Izzy forced herself forward, deliberately not looking at Fraser's table. "Morning, José. The usual, please.
"Coming right up." José's smile was warm enough to thaw permafrost. "Eating in today?"
"Actually, make it to go. I need to?—"
"She'll eat here."
The words cut through the café's comfortable chatter like a blade. Cory's voice carried that particular tone of authority that made Izzy's hackles rise instantly. Who did he think he was, deciding where she'd eat her breakfast?
José's eyes darted between them, his smile faltering as he sensed the sudden tension. The entire café seemed to pause, waiting.
Izzy weighed her options. She could cause a scene. But that would make waves, draw attention. She thought of Chantal, probably driving her mom to distraction with her boundless morning energy.
As often happened in her life, she imagined making headlines. Imagined Chantal’s deadbeat dad getting ideas…. Thoughts of custody hearings and legal complications and all the reasons she needed to stay off law enforcement's radar.
"Fine." The word came out through gritted teeth. "I'll eat here."
Cory gestured to the chair across from him, all business, like he was conducting an interview instead of ruining her morning. Izzy grabbed her coffee from José—who gave her a sympathetic look—and stalked over, dropping into the seat with perhaps more force than necessary.
Up close, she could see the faint lines around his eyes, the precise part in his Nordic-blond hair. Even hours into his shift, his uniform looked like it had just come from the dry cleaner.
Without preamble, he slid a printed photo across the table. Security footage, grainy but clear enough—a figure in dark clothing near Town Hall's entrance, face obscured by a hood, towing a schlubby-looking guy by the arm.
"Funny how our cameras malfunctioned right before Spike Jenks appeared gift-wrapped on our doorstep," he said, those ice-blue eyes never leaving her face.
Izzy took her time adding sugar to her coffee, stirring with deliberate slowness. "Maybe you should upgrade your system. I hear the new firmware patches are much more reliable."
His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. "This isn't a game."
"No?" She met his gaze steadily. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like someone finally did your job for you. Spike Jenks has been selling to middle schoolers for months. Everyone knows it."
"Alleged dealer," Cory corrected, though something flickered in his expression—frustration, maybe. "And even if he were dealing—which hasn't been proven in court—vigilante justice isn’t the answer."
"Right." Izzy leaned back, cradling her coffee mug. "Due process. Rights. All those things that protect dealers while kids get hooked on whatever garbage they're pushing."
"The law exists for a reason?—"
"Does it?" The words came out sharper than intended. "Because I've got a six-year-old daughter who'll be at that middle school in a few years, and I'd really like to know the system's going to protect her from people like Jenks."
Cory's expression shifted slightly, something almost human flickering through the professional mask. "So we should just let anyone who thinks they know better take justice into their own hands? Where does that end?"
"When the system fails?" Izzy set her mug down harder than necessary. "Maybe someone should."
She was getting too heated, too invested. This wasn't her fight—it was Axel's crusade, his way of dealing with whatever demons followed him home from Afghanistan. She needed to remember that.
José appeared with her burrito, setting it down with a concerned glance at both of them before retreating quickly. The interruption gave them both a moment to regroup.
Cory leaned back in his chair, studying her with those analytical eyes that probably saw too much. "Knight Tactical has been a good partner to this town. The Admiral, Jack Reese's team—we've worked together for years without incident."
The implication hung heavy between them:Until you and your crew showed up.
Izzy straightened her spine. "Knight Tactical has nothing to do with this."
"Really?" His tone suggested deep skepticism. "Because someone with serious technical skills hacked those cameras. The kind of skills your team is known for."
She met his gaze without flinching. "Knight Tactical is not involved in vigilante justice. We have no intention of being."
Technically true. The organization wasn't involved. What certain members did in their off-hours was another matter entirely.
