June looked at the badges in the men's hands. The metal glinted in the morning light. She looked at the door Silas had just walked through. She felt a cold sensation in her chest. It was the feeling of a dream being interrupted by a hard, loud reality.
"He is in the shower," June said. Her voice was steady, but her hands were clenched at her sides. "What exactly is this about? He told me the Thorne Holdings situation was handled."
"The corporate part is handled," the lead investigator said. He had a gray face and eyes that didn't blink. "The criminal part is just beginning. We have evidence that funds from Vane-Corp were moved through several offshore accounts before they reached the county clerk here. We need to know if Mr. Vane authorized those transfers before he left New York."
"He wouldn't do that," June said.
"That is what we are here to determine," the man replied.
The bathroom door opened. Silas stepped out into the hallway. He was drying his hair with a towel. He wore a clean shirt and old jeans. He stopped when he saw the men standing in the living room. He didn't look surprised. He looked resigned. It was the look of a man who knew his past was a shadow that grew longer as the sun went down.
"Agents," Silas said. He draped the towel over the back of a chair. "I assumed I would be hearing from you. I didn't think you would drive all the way to Oakhaven."
"We wanted to ensure you were still in the country, Mr. Vane," the agent said. "There were reports you had vanished. Julian Thorne's lawyers are claiming you orchestrated the fraud to tank the company's value so you could buy it back at a discount. They are calling you the mastermind."
Silas let out a dry, sharp laugh. He walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. "Julian was always good at spinning a story. I am the one who gave you the thumb drive. I am the one who found the bribes."
"That could be seen as a way to silence a partner who knew too much," the agent said. "We need you in the city for a formal deposition. The grand jury is convening on Tuesday. If you don't come voluntarily, we have a warrant."
Silas looked at June. He saw the fear in her eyes. He saw the way she was looking at him, searching for a sign of the truth. He realized that every step he took toward her was being pulled back by the gravity of his old life.
"I'll go," Silas said.
"Silas, no," June said. She stepped toward him. "The harvest. We have the south grove to finish. You said you weren't leaving."
"I have to clear my name, June," Silas said. He put the glass down. "If I don't go, Julian wins. He will make sure I spend the next ten years in a courtroom. I can't protect this place from a prison cell."
"How long?" June asked.
"Three days," Silas said. "Maybe four. I will take the train. I will be back before the final crates are loaded."
"That is what you said ten years ago," June whispered.
The silence in the room was heavy. The agents stood like statues. Bea appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. She looked at the agents and then at Silas. She didn't say anything. She just gripped the back of a chair until her knuckles turned white. She knew the look of a man who was about to disappear.
"I am not that man anymore, June," Silas said. He walked over to her. He reached out to touch her arm, but he stopped himself. He was covered in the dust of the orchard. He felt like he was polluting her world just by standing there. "I will call you every night. I will be back."
Silas went to the guest cottage and packed a small bag. He didn't take the SUV. He didn't want the reminder of the wealth that had brought the agents to his door. He walked back to the driveway where the government sedan was waiting.
Miller Reed was still there, leaning against his truck. He watched Silas get into the back seat of the black car. Miller didn't wave. He didn't nod. He just watched. He looked like a man who had seen this movie before and knew how it ended.
The car pulled away. Silas looked out the rear window. He saw June standing on the porch. She looked small against the backdrop of the massive, ancient trees. He watched her until the dust from the road obscured her view.
The drive to the city was silent. Silas watched the scenery change. The pine trees turned into concrete. The open sky turned into a maze of steel. By the time they reached Manhattan, the sun was obscured by the height of the buildings. The air felt thin and processed.
He spent the first night in a sterile holding room in a federal building. They didn't arrest him, but they didn't let him leave. He sat at a metal table and answered questions for six hours. He explained the software. He explained the accounts. He explained Julian's obsession with the merger.
"Why the orchard, Mr. Vane?" the prosecutor asked. She was a sharp woman with a voice like a paper cut. "Why would a man with your net worth spend three weeks picking apples in the mud? It looks like a hiding spot."
"It was a home," Silas said.
"You haven't lived there in a decade," she countered. "You have no legal ties to the property. Your marriage was a DIY mistake. You had every reason to stay away. Unless you needed a place where the paper trail ended."
"I went back to fix a mistake," Silas said. "The only crime I committed in Oakhaven was leaving it in the first place."
The prosecutor didn't look convinced. She closed her folder. She told him he was free to go to a hotel, but he had to surrender his passport. He was grounded in a city that felt like a cage.
Silas walked out of the federal building at midnight. He didn't go to his penthouse. He didn't want to see the marble floors and the silent, empty rooms. He walked to a small hotel near the train station. He sat on the bed and pulled out his phone.
He called June. It went to voicemail.
"June, it's me," Silas said. His voice sounded hollow in the small room. "The questioning is going slow. They are trying to connect me to Julian's offshore accounts. It is a mess, but I am fighting it. I miss the smell of the trees. I miss the quiet. I am coming back. I promise."
He hung up and stared at the wall. He felt the weight of the city pressing down on him. He realized that Julian didn't need to win the court case to destroy him. All Julian had to do was keep him away from the orchard long enough for the trust to break.
Back in Oakhaven, the rain finally arrived. It wasn't a soft mist. It was a cold, driving downpour that turned the orchard into a swamp. June stood at the kitchen window and watched the water flood the irrigation ditches.
The fungus was spreading. Without the heat of the sun, the spray Silas and Miller had applied was losing its grip. The black spots were growing.
"He's not coming back, is he?" Bea asked. She was sitting at the table, polishing silver that hadn't been used in years.
"He said three days," June said.
"Men like Silas don't survive in the mud," Bea said. She didn't sound angry. She sounded tired. "The city is a vacuum. It sucks them back in. He's probably sitting in a boardroom right now, realizing that twenty billion dollars is a lot more comfortable than a leaking barn."
June didn't answer. She grabbed her yellow slicker and walked out into the rain. She went to the barn. She found the crates they had packed before the agents arrived. She began to move them to the higher shelves, away from the rising water.
She worked until her muscles burned. She worked until the cold seeped into her bones. She reached for a heavy crate of Honeycrisps, her foot slipped in the mud near the door. She fell hard. The crate shattered. The apples rolled into the dirt, turning gray in the moonlight.
June sat in the mud and put her face in her hands. She didn't cry. She just sat there. The sound of the rain on the tin roof was deafening.
A shadow fell over her. She looked up, expecting to see Miller.
It was a man in a dark suit. He was holding a black umbrella. He wasn't one of the agents. He was younger, with a smile that was too bright for the storm.
"June Ashby?" the man asked.
"Who are you?" June asked. She wiped the mud from her face.
"I am an associate of Julian Thorne," the man said. He reached into his coat and pulled out a legal document. "He wanted me to deliver this personally. Since Silas Vane is currently under federal investigation for fraud, his assets have been frozen. That includes the 'gift' he used to settle your back taxes. The county has rescinded the payment. The auction is back on for tomorrow morning at nine."
June looked at the paper. The words blurred in the rain.
"Silas didn't tell you?" the man asked. He looked at her with fake sympathy. "He knew this was coming. He used the payment to buy himself time to get out of town. He didn't save the orchard, June. He used it as a shield. He's back in the city now. He's safe. You, on the other hand, should probably start packing."
The man turned and walked toward his car. He left June sitting in the dirt. The rain continued to fall. The apples were rotting in the mud. The empire was gone, and now, the land was slipping away with it.