No warrant. No legal authority to search. No backup.
But whatever Ruiz had left in that room could vanish at any moment. Files. Notes. Evidence. The name of whoever hired him. Maybe even information about David.
The manager's fear wasn't random. Someone with power had made sure this place stayed locked down. The same someone who'd convinced an entire town to develop selective amnesia about a dead PI asking questions.
Gabe checked his watch. Four-thirty. Still light for another few hours.
He'd come back tonight. After dark. When the manager was asleep and the other guests were locked in their rooms. He'd break in, search the room, find whatever Ruiz had left behind.
And if he found information about David, nothing else mattered.
God, if he's alive, help me get to him in time. Please.
The prayer was raw. Desperate. The kind of bargaining he'd done every night since David stopped answering his phone.
Gabe started the engine and pulled out of the lot. Gravel pinged against the undercarriage as he headed back toward Haven Cove, a checklist for tonight already forming in his mind. Morrison would fire him for sure if he found out.
The thought didn't bother him as much as it should.
He passed through Haven Cove's main street as the late afternoon sun painted everything gold and amber. Shadows stretched long across the pavement. The bakery sat dark andclosed, its windows reflecting the ocean beyond in sheets of orange fire.
Cara Sweet had IDed the victim before he’d even had a chance to interview the people in town. Gabe filed that away with all the other inconsistencies that didn't add up. Tonight, he'd find out what Marco Ruiz had been investigating.
He couldn’t help wondering if it was Cara Sweet.
7
Cara lockedthe bakery door at 11:47 PM and climbed the stairs to her apartment. Main Street below was dark except for a single streetlight near Pearl's Mercantile casting long shadows across empty pavement. The kind of small-town quiet that would have felt peaceful a few days ago.
Inside, she moved quickly. Dark jeans. Black hoodie. Running shoes with soft soles. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun and grabbed the lockpick set from behind the winter coats in her closet.
The weight of the leather case was all too familiar, even after all this time. She could picture the picks inside, knew exactly which worked best on cheap motel locks.
Lord, I know this isn't exactly righteous behavior. But I'm trying to help someone find his brother. That counts for something, right?
The prayer felt like negotiation. Again.
She added a small flashlight to her jacket pocket. Gloves. A bobby pin as backup. The supplies of someone who'd done this all too many times.
Her reflection in the bathroom mirror looked wrong. Theneat baker's bun. The careful neutral clothes. The face of Cara Sweet preparing to become Carly Reid again.
She touched the silver cross at her throat.
Just this once. Then I go back to being boring.
The lie tasted familiar.
Twenty minutes later, her bakery's rusting Subaru coughed to life in the alley behind the building. She pulled onto Main Street, drove past the darkened shops, and turned north onto Highway 101.
The forest was pitch black this time of night. No moon. Towering pines blocked out the stars. Her headlights carved twin tunnels through the darkness, revealing nothing but pavement and the occasional reflective eyes of wildlife watching from the tree line.
She checked her mirrors. Adjusted her grip on the steering wheel. Tried to ignore the way her pulse had kicked up three notches.
This was stupid. Breaking into a crime scene. Tampering with evidence. All the things that could send her back to prison if Gabe Sawyer caught her. But if this PI had info on her past, she was going back anyway. Not much of a choice.
Fifteen miles had never felt longer.
The turnoff was easy to miss - just a gap in the trees with a weathered sign that read "Seafoam Lodge" in peeling letters. Cara slowed and turned onto the narrow access road. Gravel crunched under her tires, loud in the forest silence. No streetlights. No security cameras she could see. Just darkness and towering pines pressing in from both sides.
