My stomach dipped. “About Olivier and Nico?”
She nodded. “He caught them near the old mechanic shop. The one that used to handle town repairs before it shut down. Said it’s the same place that worked on Maggie Chabot’s car before the crash.”
I froze, the coffee cooling in my hand. Elyna had been a couple of years ahead of me in school, but I remembered when she lost her mom. We’d grown close after that, two girls finding comfort in shared hurt. I saw what Maggie’s death did to her. “You’re saying Becket thinks it’s all connected?”
“He didn’t give me details,” she said carefully, “but he’s not convinced last week’s incident at the shop was just two angry men trying to scare you. He thinks it’s tied to something bigger.”
I glanced toward the cracked latch on our front door. The repairman was supposed to come tomorrow, but for now, the metal sat bent and bruised, like a reminder of how close danger could get.
“They didn’t have to break in,” I murmured. “They just wanted me to know they could.”
Sandy’s voice softened. “They’re angry you testified against Marcel. Becket said as much. They think you turned on family.”
“They’re right,” I said quietly. “I did.”
She touched my arm. “You did the right thing, Harmony.”
“Tell that to them.”
Her hand dropped away. “Becket thinks that old mechanic shop might be their front now. He’s looking into who bought it. Said the paperwork traces back to a holding company in Sherbrooke.”
A chill moved through me. “You think Marcel’s still running things from inside?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Across the street, the sound of hammering drew my attention. Eric was outside the bakery, helping repair a fence that had blown down in the storm. His sleeves were rolled, forearms streaked with sawdust, his baseball cap sat backward on his head. He moved with purpose.
When he caught me watching, he gave a small nod. A second later, he crossed the street.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag.
“I don’t do resting well.”
“Apparently not.” His gaze flicked toward the door. “Have you received more messages?”
I nodded. “Yes, I’m guessing it’s Olivier since Nico knows better than to stalk me.”
His jaw tensed. I had dated Nico before Eric, and I could tell he still didn’t like the mention of his name. I was selfishly hoping he was jealous but that wouldn’t be fair of me, so I dropped the thought.
“I ignore his messages. I don’t think he’ll ever leave me be. Not after what I did to our father,” I said, trying for lightness I didn’t feel.
He took a deep breath. “That’s why you shouldn’t be here alone.”
“I’m fine.”
His eyes softened. “You keep saying that.”
He looked past me, toward the bent latch. “Becket caught them near the old repair shop, you know. Same one that worked on Maggie Chabot’s car before the crash. Turns out it changed ownership twice, but the most recent buyer is a holding company out of Sherbrooke. Beck’s pretty sure that company’s tied to Marcel.”
The breath left my chest. “Sandy just told me about Becket’s theory. I don’t know what to think. I tried to run away and it didn’t work so I came back. It seems like I can never rid myself of the Bellerose curse.”
“Sorry,” he sighed. “I can’t imagine how hard it is for you. It’s just that my brother is kind of obsessed with what happened to Maggie Chabot.”
“I remember when she died. It was pretty close to the time I lost. . .” the words clogged in my throat.
“Your mom,” Eric said softly.
I nodded.
