Wade joined her. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know.” But would she?
She’d gone from wanting him out of town as fast as possible to wanting… what, exactly? A future built on lies and distance with the man she was falling in love with?
That would work out well.
Lord, keep him safe. Bring him back in one piece. Help him find his brother.
And if he needs help out there—show me.
She rested her forehead against the cold glass, watching the empty street where his headlights had disappeared.
She hadn’t given him the promise he wanted—but she’d made one to herself.
No way she was letting the man she loved walk into a hostile situation blind.
29
Ten minutes after Gabe left,Cara stood at her apartment window, watching Wade pace the bakery’s tight perimeter. He moved with the restless vigilance of someone trained to guard—to notice the smallest change, the wrong sound, the absence where something should be.
He was thorough.
Which meant her window was closing.
When Wade disappeared inside for another interior security sweep, Cara didn’t hesitate. She changed quickly, pulling dark jeans and a black hoodie from the top of her laundry hamper. Running shoes with soft soles. The black knit beanie went into her pocket—too suspicious to wear outright, too useful to leave behind.
The outfit felt uncomfortably familiar.
Muscle memory stirred—old habits rising to meet a familiar kind of night. She pushed the thought aside and focused on the task.
The burner phone hidden inside her flour canister felt heavier than it should as she slid it into her pocket. Cash followed. Then the lock-pick set she’d sworn she was donewith, tucked into the small of her back where it wouldn’t shift. If she needed to bypass a lock, she wasn’t trusting flimsy tools.
All the pieces of Carly Reid she hadn’t quite managed to bury.
Lord, I know this is wrong,she prayed silently.But Gabe’s walking into danger alone. I can’t sit here and pretend I don’t know how this ends.
The prayer felt less like asking permission and more like admitting the truth.
She checked her phone. Tom had shared Gabe’s GPS with the team—standard safety protocol. The blue dot moved steadily north along the coastal highway, nearly to Granger Point.
She did the math automatically.
If she left now, she’d trail him by about fifteen minutes.
Cara cracked her apartment door and froze, listening. The bakery below was quiet. No footsteps. No voices. She slipped outside and pulled the door closed without a sound.
Her heart pounded as she descended the stairs, moving fast but controlled. Panic made mistakes. She couldn’t afford mistakes.
The alley behind the bakery was dark, cold, and empty. The fog hadn’t rolled in tonight, leaving the sky sharp and black above her. Her Subaru sat exactly where she’d left it—but starting the engine would bring Wade running in seconds.
She kept walking.
The church vans were parked where they always were, wedged into the back corner of the oversized lot. The middle one unlocked easily. If borrowing church property could be considered remotely righteous under the circumstances, she’d take it.
She slid behind the wheel and opened the pocketknifeshe’d slipped into her pocket, prying the ignition mechanism apart. Less than two minutes later, the engine turned over, muffled by the vans flanking her.
She pulled out slowly and headed north.
