Chapter Text
It was a hot summer day, with the sea lying still like a giant mirror, reflecting the blue sky that stretched into the distance without a single cloud. The sun shone brightly, its rays reflecting off the sand, and everything around them was bathed in warm, golden light. On a bench placed near the beach, John B and Kiara sat, their bodies leaning against the backrests, their eyes closed, in quiet harmony with the surrounding world. It seemed as though even time had slowed its pace, as if it had momentarily stopped and forgotten how quickly it passes.
Everything around them seemed distant, nonexistent. A few people walked by, their voices muffled and not urgent. Occasionally, the sound of a passing car could be heard. At that moment, it was just the two of them, in their own world, where everything seemed to be in balance, and nothing was more important than the peace that reigned between them.
But as it often happens, moments of silence don’t last long. Their peaceful moment was interrupted by a loud conversation approaching them. It was JJ and Pope, walking with laughing faces straight toward them.
JJ and Pope were talking loudly as they walked toward the benches, their voices cutting through the quiet air.
“If I see one more person wearing a suit that tight, I might lose it.” JJ said with a laugh. "Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d think they were giving away free booze or something."
Kiara and John B were sitting on a bench, watching their friends approach. Kiara raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “So, what’s the verdict? Did you guys figure out anything?”
Pope was the first to answer. “Well, the verdict is that we’re not getting in anytime soon. It’s basically just a big Kook gathering, and I don’t think they’ll let anyone else through the door.”
JJ, clearly frustrated, shook his head and adjusted his cap. “Exactly. It’s like they think they’re royalty or something. You know those Kooks—they probably don’t even care what’s actually in the museum, it’s just a reason to dress up and act all high and mighty.”
John B raised his eyebrows. He knew that was the case, and he said, “Yeah, it’s obvious. Slowly but surely, they won’t let anyone anywhere.”
JJ seemed angry, pacing a few steps away from the bench and standing in front of a large sign on the grass. The sign had an image of the local museum and read:
JJ didn’t read it aloud, but leaned in to read the “Co-funded by” part. His face twisted with frustration as he turned around, glaring at the others. “Well, now we know why they won’t let us inside,” he spat, “Fucking Camerons are in on it.”
But then Pope frowned, craning his neck to the other side of the street. He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand as he squinted through the trees. John B noticed and glanced at him. “Pope, what’s up?” he asked, following his gaze.
Pope stared for a moment longer before speaking. “Did they move the party outside, or is that just me?” He motioned toward the crowd that was now filtering out of the big double doors of the museum, making their way down the stone steps.
John B didn’t wait for an answer. He looked both ways down the street before muttering a quick, “Let’s go.” Without wasting another second, he started walking toward the trees, and the rest of the group quickly followed. They crouched down behind a stone wall next to a set of posters—more of the same, touting the grand opening of the French section at the museum.
JJ peered around the corner from behind the wall, his eyes scanning the crowd. The others gathered behind him, waiting for a report. “What do you see?” Pope asked, his voice low.
JJ was quiet for a moment, clearly processing. Then, Kiara nudged him impatiently. “Well, what is it?”
He turned his head toward them, still keeping his distance from the corner. “It’s just a bunch of people in suits or something walking outside. But... it seems like they’re waiting for something.”
John B shifted, holding the edge of the wall and leaning around it to get a better look. There was a small park with benches, and at the end of it was the museum, its back part facing the ocean.
Kiara leaned in closer to the group, trying to get a better look. “We can move closer,” she suggested, pointing to some bushes nearby. “We can use those to hide and get a better view.”
John B looked at her and then at the others, considering the idea. Before he could make a move, JJ was already on his way. Crouching low, he darted toward the bushes, pausing mid-step to glance back at the others. He tilted his head, signaling for them to follow. When they all shook their heads in exasperation, he motioned more insistently before diving into the grass behind the bushes. He landed on his stomach, peeking through a small gap in the foliage to get a better view of the scene in front of the museum.
The building itself was a grand structure, overlooking the ocean. Its architecture was a mix of classic and modern, with tall columns framing the entrance and sleek glass panels reflecting the sunlight. Posters lined the walls on either side of the double doors, their bold fonts advertising the new French section and its collection of 18th-century paintings. A red carpet stretched down the stone steps, leading to the small crowd gathered outside.
John B and Pope slid into position on either side of JJ, both lying flat on the grass, while Kiara crouched next to Pope, carefully parting the bush to see through.
“Do you see anything weird?” JJ whispered.
Pope shook his head, staying quiet. The crowd outside the museum looked like what they expected—rich, polished, typical Kooks. Women in designer dresses and men in sharp suits mingled under the high afternoon sun, their conversations blending into a hum.
It wasn’t until the museum’s double doors opened that Kiara frowned and quietly commented, “Someone’s coming out.”
The group shifted their attention to the steps as Ward Cameron appeared in the doorway, wearing a sharp grey suit with a red tie. He had his trademark confident grin plastered across his face as he led a small group of men out behind him.
Ward’s companions were tall and well-dressed, younger than him except for one man who stood out. This man’s suit jacket was draped casually over his shoulders, his hair dark brown streaked with grey. Slim black sunglasses perched on his nose gave him an air of aloofness.
JJ scoffed, leaning closer to the bush. “Only assholes wear sunglasses like that,” he muttered.
John B, still flat on the ground, pointed behind Ward and the man in sunglasses. “There’s Rafe,” he said quietly.
Sure enough, Rafe Cameron stood a few steps back, dressed in a dark suit. Behind him was a tall blonde woman, regal in her posture, and two younger girls. One was short, with brown hair and glasses, looking utterly bored. The other was unmistakable.
“That’s Sarah,” Kiara murmured, her tone laced with recognition. “Full family gathering. All the Camerons are here.”
JJ’s jaw tightened as he glared at the scene. He’d always hated the Kooks, but the Camerons were in a league of their own. “The royal family,” he muttered bitterly.
The group descended the museum steps, Ward and the man in sunglasses at the front, their conversation animated. Rafe followed behind, flanked by the rest of his family.
Pope, still lying on the grass, narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t this a bit much for just a museum?” he asked, voice skeptical.
JJ turned to the others, his expression dark. “Whatever they’re up to, it’s not just about some stupid paintings.”
Ward Cameron stepped confidently to the forefront, his polished grin beaming across the gathering. The polite claps subsided as he raised his hands in a welcoming gesture, his voice smooth and commanding as it carried over the assembled crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for joining us on this truly remarkable day. It’s a pleasure to stand before you at the grand opening of the Outer Banks Museum’s newest section, celebrating the artistry and history of 18th-century French paintings. This event marks yet another milestone for our community, and it wouldn’t have been possible without the incredible support and collaboration we’ve received.”
He turned toward Mr. Picard, who stood tall and composed beside him, and extended his hand. The two men shared a firm handshake, Ward’s smile unwavering.
“First and foremost, I’d like to give a special thanks to Mr. Gabriel Picard. Your generosity and vision have played a vital role in making today’s opening a reality. Your donation is not just a gift to the museum but to the entire Outer Banks community.”
The crowd offered a warm round of applause as Ward released Mr. Picard’s hand and stepped aside, gesturing for him to speak.
Mr. Picard adjusted his sunglasses slightly and gave a gracious nod before addressing the crowd.
“Thank you, Ward, and thank you to the Cameron family for giving me the opportunity to be part of something so meaningful. It has been an honor to work alongside such a passionate and dedicated family, who share my love for history and the arts. Together, we’ve created a space that will inspire not only the locals but also visitors from far and wide to explore the stories behind these extraordinary pieces.”
He paused, a smile touching his lips as his gaze swept over the attentive audience.
“I hope this new section will bring more hungry minds to the Outer Banks—eager to learn, eager to experience, and eager to connect with the rich tapestry of history we’ve brought here. My family worked tirelessly to gather these paintings, and it brings me great joy to share them with all of you. I also want to thank the Cameron family for their warm welcome during my time here. It’s been years since I’ve traveled so far, but every moment here reminds me why I never sold my property.”
The crowd chuckled softly at his jest, his charm breaking through the formal atmosphere. Ward nodded in agreement, his smile widening as he clapped Mr. Picard on the back.
“Gabriel, your words and your efforts mean so much to us. It’s partnerships like this that keep the Outer Banks vibrant and growing. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give one more round of applause to Mr. Picard for his incredible contributions!”
The crowd responded enthusiastically, clapping and murmuring their appreciation. Ward turned his attention back to the audience, his tone lighter but still commanding.
“Now, let’s enjoy this beautiful day and celebrate the fusion of history and community. Thank you all for being here.”
Another round of applause broke out as Ward stepped back and his family joined him. Exchanging smiles and nodds.
JJ frowned, tilting his head at everyone. "What the fuck was that about?"
"I don't know, but I’ve never seen so many fake smiles.” John B shook his head, his disbelief evident.
Pope and Kiara exchanged glances before turning their attention back to John B. He wasn’t watching the crowd but had his eyes locked on Ward Cameron and Gabriel Picard. The two men seemed engrossed in a lively conversation, their smiles far too genuine for John B’s liking.
Kiara leaned in slightly, trying to make sense of his unease. "It could just be about the new museum section. Is that really so weird?"
John B and JJ exchanged a knowing look, one that screamed distrust. JJ was the first to voice it. "Nothing the Camerons touch is ever normal or good. You know that."
Before anyone could respond, Pope suddenly whispered, "Look." He nodded toward Ward, who had just placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. Ward was steering him away from the other tall men and even from his family, their expressions noticeably more serious now.
JJ squinted, his tone laced with suspicion. "See? Told you. It's already suspicious. Look at them!"
Kiara narrowed her eyes, tracking their movements. "Where do you think they’re going?"
Ward and Gabriel continued to the far side of the crowd, weaving through the suits and dresses until they reached another path leading deeper into the park. They stopped by a small stone fountain that stood just before a beautifully crafted iron gate, intricate designs snaking through its structure.
Pope craned his neck, his voice still low. "They’re talking about something, but it’s impossible to hear from here."
John B was already on the move, crouching low as he retreated backward. "Let’s go. We can circle around and get a better view."
JJ immediately followed, not asking a single question, his mistrust of the Camerons driving him forward. Pope and Kiara hesitated, their eyes flicking back to the rest of the crowd. Ward’s family remained near the museum steps, chatting with guests—except for the youngest one, who was clearly bored, her gaze wandering everywhere but the conversation.
Kiara nudged Pope, breaking him out of his observation. Without a word, they both started moving, trailing John B and JJ.
***
There they stood. Ward and Gabriel faced each other, the polished, public smiles they wore earlier replaced by tension and thinly veiled hostility.
JJ and Kiara pressed themselves tightly against one side of the wall, just where the iron gate began, while John B and Pope mirrored them on the opposite side. They couldn’t see them but their voices were low, carrying enough to be overheard.
Pope’s expression was serious, his brows furrowed as he tried to piece together what was being said. John B glanced over at JJ, raising a finger to his lips in a stern warning to stay quiet. It was clear to everyone that if anyone was going to blow their cover, it would be JJ. Kiara crouched low, nearly pressed against the ground, her head tilted as she strained to catch every word.
Gabriel’s voice broke through the muted sounds of the crowd, his tone sharp and no longer friendly. “Did you find it yet?”
There was a brief pause before Ward responded, his tone measured but defensive. “I told you on the phone already—I’ve got people all over the island, and nobody’s seen anything.”
Gabriel’s voice raised slightly, laced with urgency. “We had a deal, Ward. You get 80% of that donation, those paintings that were in my family for generations, and you let me bring it as well. Now you're telling me you can’t find the rest?”
“I told you, I’m working on it. It’s not like I’m sitting around doing nothing all day.”
A heavy silence hung between them for a moment, the only sounds the rustle of leaves and faint murmurs from the crowd beyond. Then Gabriel spoke again, his tone cold and resolute. “Tonight. You just keep doing what we agreed on, and I’ll handle what I came here to do.”
The words sent a chill through the group hiding behind the wall. John B exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Pope, who mouthed, What the hell is that supposed to mean? Kiara stayed frozen, her gaze locked on the ground.
JJ, on the other hand, was bristling with tension, his fingers gripping the edge of the wall as if ready to leap into action. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just about paintings—it was bigger.