Graham glared at Alden, his grip tightening on the flashlight.

“You talk too much, Alden,” Graham said.

“I told you what would happen if you opened your mouth.”

“She’s partnering with him,” Alden blurted out, a sudden burst of panic taking over.

“Marisol’s family trust owns the shell company that is funding Cypress Meridian,” Alden said.

“They are the ones providing the capital for the buyout.”

“The equestrian estate was just a cover,” I realized.

“Yes,” Alden said. “She wanted the lower pasture to connect the development to the highway.”

“Without it, the project is landlocked.”

Graham reached for the door handle and pulled on it, but the lock held.

He rattled the handle violently, the metal clicking against the latch.

“Shut up, Alden!” Graham yelled.

“Get out of the car!”

He began to slam his shoulder against the passenger side door.

“Alden, put it in reverse,” I said.

“We need to get back to the house.”

Alden didn’t move, frozen as he watched Graham’s furious face through the glass.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my lap.

The screen illuminated the dark interior of the car with a bright white light.