The weight of that settled between them. A private investigator murdered for asking the wrong questions. A journalist dead, or in hiding. A twenty-year-old cover-up still claiming victims.
Hand on the butt of his weapon, Gabe led the way out of the old annex. From across the property, she could see the church buzzing with ordinary Saturday activity. Volunteers set up for the food pantry. Children raced through the fellowship hall.
They stepped into the parking lot. Cold air hit her face. She scanned the area automatically.
The dark sedan was gone. "That’s a good thing, right?"
"Maybe." Gabe's tone carried zero relief. His eyes swept the lot, the street, the tree line. "Or they're repositioning. Waiting to see where we go next."
"Or they already know what we found." The words came out quieter than she intended.
The possibility hung between them as they climbed into his SUV.
Gabe started the engine but didn't move. Just sat there staring at the flash drive now resting in the cup holder.
"I need to access this." His voice was steady now, controlled, the federal agent reasserting dominance over the grieving son and terrified brother. "But if it's encrypted beyond the password, I'll need help."
"Tom." The name came to her automatically. "Tom Nakamura. Piper's dad. He used to be some kind of tech genius. Freelance cybersecurity consultant."
Gabe's eyes sharpened. "You trust him?"
Did she? Tom had shown up at her bakery before dawn with his toolbelt and quiet competence. He helped without asking questions, and she caught the look he and Wade exchanged, the kind of recognition that suggested shared history neither acknowledged.
"I don't trust anyone completely." The honesty felt dangerous. "But Tom's solid. If anyone can help you access that drive securely, it's him."
Gabe studied her for a long moment, reading things she tried not to show.
"All right." He pulled out of the parking lot. "Let's see what my father, and probably my brother, died to hide."
The words landed like a punch.
"David's not dead." Cara meant it, needed it to be true. "He went dark to stay alive. This proves he's careful and smart."
Gabe's hands tightened on the wheel. "You don't know that."
"No. But I believe it."
Something shifted in his expression. Not quite hope. Not quite belief. But maybe the willingness to consider the possibility.
They drove back toward town in silence. Cara watched the trees blur past and tried not to think about what mightbe on the drive, about how accessing it would pull her deeper into an investigation she should be running from, about how every step closer to the truth brought her one step closer to losing everything she'd built here.
Lord, I don't know what's on that drive. But whatever it is, please let it lead us to David. Please let Gabe find his brother alive. And please, somehow, let the truth about his father finally come to light.
The prayer felt more fervent than any she'd offered in months.
Because somewhere between the overlook and the church annex, between the destroyed bakery and the flash drive hidden in a metal box, Cara had stopped wanting Gabe Sawyer to leave Haven Cove.
She'd started wanting to help him find the answers that had haunted his family for two decades.
Started wanting things she had no right to want from a man who would destroy her the moment he learned the truth.
And that was the most dangerous thing of all.
20
The afternoon lightslanting through the bakery's broken windows did nothing to soften the destruction. Gabe stood in the middle of flour-coated chaos and watched Tom Nakamura reattach a shelf.
Wade worked near the back door, installing a new deadbolt. The teen, Piper, swept flour into dramatic piles while providing running commentary to her phone about proper disaster cleanup techniques.
