“Five dollars,” she bit off, rolling her eyes so hard he thought she might pull something.
Smallwood continued to circle the vehicle while the other one scribbled a few notes.
“That’s all we need for now. We’ll be in touch with you.” The officers climbed back into the cruiser. As soon as they were out of earshot, Felicity rounded on Gabe with a groan.
“They didn’t do anything! They didn’t—”
Suddenly, a woman appeared, crossing the parking lot wearing loose pants and a top with the sleeves rolled to her elbows with an apron over it.
He placed a hand on Felicity’s arm and nodded toward the woman. Her mouth snapped shut.
“Vera.” The way she said the name made Gabe’s neck prickle as they both swung to face the woman.
“Who’s Vera?” he murmured from the corner of his mouth.
“She owns the bakery.”
The woman’s graying hair swirled in the breeze, lifting the short strands around her face. Gabe studied the expression of concern that was a bit too practiced and the way she drew one corner of her mouth downward.
“Oh my dear Felicity. Is everything all right? I saw the police pull in. Was your shop broken into again?” She clutched a brown paper bag in her hand with the bakery’s logo on the front.
Felicity visibly composed herself, dropping her shoulders and replacing the fuming look on her face with one that was more neutral. “No. My shop is the same.”
“Oh. Well.” She lifted the bag. “I brought you a brownie.” Her attention darted to Gabe. “If I’d known someone else washere, I’d have brought two.” Her gaze slid over him like she was measuring him for gossip fodder.
Felicity accepted the bag with a strained smile. “Thank you. We’ll split it.”
Vera stood there, looking between them as if waiting for introductions. Gabe didn’t offer his name.
She waved a hand toward the bag. “And there’s a flyer for Mayfest inside. Are you doing it this year? Your shop doesn’t look like it’s doing very well.”
Gabe’s muscles locked, and he felt Felicity pull in a breath. Then felt the bigger effort it took her to smile.
“I’ve got a plan in the works.”
The woman’s nod had a touch of sympathy, but her eyes gleamed in a way that made Gabe spit nails.
He knew the type. Town gossip snooping under the guise of concern.
Vera continued, “Everyone’s struggling since the exit closed. And I heard you let your employees go. Made me wonder if you were closing. I’ve been thinking of moving my bakery somewhere more prominent.” She twisted, sweeping her gaze over the store.
Prominent.
Like here.
“Good luck to you, Vera.” Felicity’s tone finally gave the woman the shove she needed to be on her way.
She stood there for a beat, unsure how to respond. Then with a small wave, she walked off, shoes scraping on the pavement.
The second she rounded the corner out of sight, Gabe moved closer to Felicity. “I don’t like her.”
“Nobody does.”
He stared at the alley where Vera disappeared. “She’s sniffing around this place for a reason.”
Felicity exhaled but didn’t argue. The tiny lines of strain around her beautiful eyes revealed the hurt she felt from both the cops’ lack of concern and then the bakery owner showing up like a hawk ready to feed on prey.
Someone had taken the journal Henry left her. Someone was watching her business, her house and knew how to use a jammer to block the camera signal so they could search her car.
