He moved to a corner table. Sat with his back to the wall. Positioned where he could see both exits and everyone in the room.
Cara forced herself to breathe. To smile at Pearl. To wrap the sourdough in paper that crinkled too loud in her shaking hands.
"That'll be twelve-fifty."
Pearl handed over exact change. Her weathered face showed concern, but she didn't ask. Small-town courtesy. Mind your business until someone asks for help.
Cara appreciated it more than she could say.
The Hendersons took longer. Debating. Discussing. Finally settling on six blueberry and six cranberry because they couldn't agree. Cara boxed up their purchases with numb fingers.
The tourists left without buying anything. Probably sensing the tension radiating off her like heat waves.
The bakery emptied until it was just her and Gabe and the hum of the refrigerator case.
"Piper," Cara called toward the kitchen. "Can you watch the front for a few minutes?"
Piper's head appeared around the doorframe. Her eyeswent wide when she saw Gabe still sitting there. "Yeah. Sure. Absolutely."
Cara moved to the back room. Gabe followed.
The space was small. Cluttered with supplies. Bags of flour stacked against one wall. Industrial mixer in the corner. Shelving units holding baking sheets and pans. The smell of yeast and cinnamon.
No windows. One door. Nowhere to run.
Cara turned to face him.
Gabe closed the door. The click sounded final.
"Give me whatever you took from that nightstand."
Her throat went dry, the lie she’d prepared sticking to the roof of her mouth.
"Why were you there?" He took a step closer. "A PI is murdered. His room gets tossed, and you show up in the middle of the night with lockpicks. Not a great look."
The room felt too small. Too warm. Her pulse hammered in her ears.
"I was trying to help."
His laugh was bitter. "You broke into a crime scene. Stole evidence I need to find my brother. Ran from a federal agent. That's obstruction."
"I didn't know what was in the notebook when I took it."
"Then why take it at all?" His voice was hard. Unforgiving. "Why risk federal charges? Why were you even there?"
Here it was. The moment she'd been dreading.
Cara forced herself to meet his gaze. "I have a bad ex. Controlling. Dangerous. The kind who tracks me down every time I think I've gotten away." Her voice shook. Not hard to fake when the alternative was so much worse. "That’s how I ended up all the way out here in Have Cove. When I heard a PI had been asking questions around town, I panicked. I thought he was working for my ex. Thought he'd found me again."
Gabe's expression didn't change. "So you broke into his room."
"I needed to know if there was anything about me in his files. Any evidence my ex had hired him to find me." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I know it was wrong. I know it was illegal. But I was scared. And when I got there and found the notebook, I took it because I didn't know what was in it. I thought it might have information about me."
"And does it?"
"No. I read it last night. It's all about your brother's investigation. Meeting times. Locations. Everything Ruiz documented for David."
The silence stretched.
