Piper stood at the front window with a piece of poster board and a handful of markers, tongue stuck out in concentration.
"What are you doing?" Cara asked.
"Making a sign. For the door." Piper didn't look up. "Can't have people showing up expecting muffins when we're clearly in crisis mode."
Five minutes later, she held up her masterpiece.
CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS(and by renovations we mean cleaning up after rude people who don't understand the concept of knocking)
We'll be back soon with:
Better locks
The same great pastries
Possibly a guard dog
Definitely more flour
In the meantime, try not to break into anything.
- Management(and Piper, who is absolutely management material)
Reagan burst out laughing. Tom shook his head with a grin. Even Wade cracked a smile.
Cara’s throat tightened for an entirely different reason. "It's perfect," she managed.
Piper taped it to the front door with excessive amounts of tape, then stepped back to admire her work. "You're welcome."
The afternoon stretched into a rhythm of hammering and sweeping. Tom measured and cut replacement shelving with the ease of someone who'd spent a lifetime making things fit. Reagan's supply list grew to three pages. Wade installed a deadbolt on the back door that looked like it could withstand a battering ram. Piper documented everything with running commentary about disaster recovery and the importance of community support.
Cara moved between them, handing tools and holding boards steady and trying not to think about what she'd dragged them into.
But the thoughts came anyway. Her friends had walked through that door this morning without hesitation, showing up with toolbelts and coffee and righteous anger on her behalf. They'd tied themselves to her now. To whatever mess she'd landed in. To the danger circling closer with every passing hour.
And they had absolutely no training for what was coming.
Reagan owned a coffee shop. Tom fixed computers or created software or something. Piper was seventeen. Wade might have military experience, but he was one man against organized professionals.
None of them were equipped for men who killed private investigators and kidnapped journalists.
But Gabe was.
