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She caught hold of my arm. “Be careful with this one, Joey. Melissa Andoine is a well-known mystery author. She could be taking her business to some big corporation, but she likes to support her local town.”

“Got it.”

Her hand tightened. “No drifting into la-la land today.”

I stared at her long pink nails—clearly some sort of fake tips—and then glanced up at her lined face. Molly was a woman who tried her best to hide signs of aging, but in her mid-fifties, they were inescapable. She wore foundation, mascara, and a thick layer of lipstick, despite standing in a dreary print shop all day.

“Message received. I’ll be careful.”

She released me, finally, and I walked across the workroom to the paper guillotine and stack of bookmarks. There were six per sheet of thick, glossy cardstock. The artwork was fun. A pink cupcake with sprinkles—and a butcher knife stabbed into the top. A fluffy white cat licked a drop of frosting from the edge of the knife.

I slid the first page into the guillotine, lined up the edges so that there would be no white trim, then slammed the handle down with a satisfying thwack.

I slid the sheet to the left. Thwack. Slid the sheet to the left. Thwack. Slid the sheet up—oh, the excitement!—thwack. Slid the sheet to the left…

My mind drifted back to the letter. Maybe the problem was that I was focusing on my guilt instead of Dakota’s feelings. I ran through my words, of what more I could offer.

I finished the first sheet of bookmarks and moved on to the second. To the third.

On the tenth, a customer walked in.

“Hey, Jake!” Molly’s bright customer service voice—and maybe also her flirty lady voice—rang across the shop. “How can we help you today?”

“Just picking up the postcards for the real estate firm. You know how it is.”

Molly giggled as if he’d said something that wasn’t cliché. “I do. I really do.” She turned. “Joey, grab the postcards.”

I paused mid-slice. “Uh, okay.”

“Hurry up.” She widened her eyes at me. “Jake is a busy man. We can’t have him standing around here all day.” She gave a false little laugh and turned back to him. “Although it’s such a pleasure to see you. Maybe I should ask Joey to drag his feet more.”

Jake laughed. “You’re bad, aren’t you?”

Pretty sure I threw up in my mouth a little at that.

I went to the shelf where finished projects waited for pickup, approximately one foot from Molly. She could have retrieved them quicker than me. I assumed she wanted an excuse to keep flirting.

I checked through the labels until I found the envelope with Axios Real Estate printed on it. I brought it to the counter.

Jake’s eyes narrowed on me suddenly. “Joey.”

I kept my head down. “Yes?”

“What’s your last name?”

Here it comes. My throat tightened.

“Whittaker,” I said.

“No fucking way. You’re that guy. I thought you went to prison.”

“I did.” I slid the envelope forward. “Have a good day.”

I turned and headed back to the paper guillotine at the back counter.

“Hey, I wasn’t done talking to you,” Jake said. “I knew Dakota Willis. She was my little brother’s prom date, you fucking asshole.”

I slid a sheet of bookmarks into the guillotine and pulled down the handle. Thwack. Damn, my slice was uneven. I adjusted the sheet, trying to get the trim just right, while the voices at the front counter continued.