She huffed. “That’s nothing more than business. Am I thrilled about it? No, but I have plenty of clients.”
Caleb studied her. Annoyed, yes. Defensive, maybe. But not afraid.
“What about Dana Cole?”
“Dana?” Her brow lifted. “She lost clients too. Took it harder than I did.”
“Well, thanks for the information.” He started to leave but turned around. “Do you know Roy Spencer?”
Her lips pursed. “Roy? No. I believe he’s Dana’s boyfriend.”
That stopped Caleb cold.
“Boyfriend?” he repeated.
She nodded. “At least that’s what I heard. Oh,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “You might want to speak with Heather Pierce. She writes theTaste of Haywoodblog. She’s plugged into everyone.”
“Thanks,” Caleb said. “Any idea how I can reach her?”
Sabrina gave him a suggestion. He thanked her and stepped back.
Every new detail made the fear settle deeper instead of easing.
“One more stop,” he said, getting into the truck.
They found Heather Pierce in front of her laptop at Greens & Grounds in town. He’d never been there before.
The café occupied a converted warehouse, all exposed brick and beams softened by an abundance of green plants. The space was broken into smaller, more intimate seating areas. The low hum of conversation blended with the hiss of the espresso machine.
Near one exposed brick wall, a woman similar to Sabrina’s description of Heather was furiously typing on her laptop. Behind her, metal shelves held books and small antique coffeepots arranged with care.
Caleb stopped a few feet away. “Heather?”
She looked up, puzzled for a second, then smiled. “Yes.”
“Caleb Jennings,” he said. “Sabrina suggested I talk to you. I’m trying to find Mia.”
Heather’s smile faded immediately. “What do you mean, trying to find her?”
“She’s missing.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
She studied his face, then slowly closed her laptop. “Sit.”
Caleb slid into the chair across from her. Finn and Titus lingered near the counter, close enough to hear if things went sideways, far enough not to hover.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Caleb asked.
“Sunday,” Heather said without hesitation. “I stopped by her kitchen barn to show her something.”
Caleb’s chest tightened. “Show her what?”
“An anonymous blog post,” Heather said, irritation flashing across her face. “Claims about cancellations. Accusations that Mia was undercutting competitors. All bullshit if you ask me.”
“Was Mia upset?”
