Chapter 15
Mitch gripped his phone tightly, Izzy’s distressed voice still ringing in his ears as he stared out the windshield of his truck.
His heart ached as he recalled the sound of her voice.
So sad. So bewildered why anyone would do this.
She hadn't done anything to anyone for all they knew.
Not willingly. But these attacks were purposeful and deliberate.
Sabotaging funeral flowers? That was a new low.
He’d been about to pull onto Travis’s street when Izzy called. The detour to Harper’s Funeral Home wasn’t optional anymore. Someone had targeted her again, publicly this time, and they weren’t just playing games. They were escalating.
He peeled away from the curb, heart hammering. His mind cataloged possibilities like a checklist: Noah, Travis, Delilah. Was one of them so petty, so calculated, they’d tamper with a grieving family’s arrangements just to ruin Izzy’s business?
Five minutes later, he pulled into the small parking lot behind the funeral home, parked close to the service entrance, and killed the engine. The place looked quiet. Too quiet. He scanned the exterior, basic security cams over the back door, and the side lot. No visible blind spots. Good.
Inside, he found Edgar Harper pacing in the hallway like a pressure cooker. The older man scowled when he spotted Mitch.
"We're not open for visitation yet."
Mitch took a deep breath. "I'm not here for visitation. I'm here to discuss Izzy Payton and the incident with the flowers."
“If you’re here to explain why that girl sabotaged the flowers, save your breath.”
Mitch bit back the urge to growl. “She didn’t. That’s why I’m here. Mind if I take a look at your security system?”
Edgar blinked. “You serious?”
“I don’t like people who hurt my friends, Mr. Harper.
And I take it personally when someone tries to smear a woman who’s done nothing but bring beauty to this town.
And frankly, your attitude is unworthy of this situation.
Did you bother to try and figure out what happened, or did you just assume, Izzy, a fellow businesswoman, would try to destroy her own reputation? ”
Harper’s scowl softened slightly. His shoulders lowered, and his mouth hung open for a moment. “Camera’s in the office. Follow me.”
Mitch followed him into the cramped space and quickly pulled up the external feeds. The time stamp on the delivery lined up with Izzy’s estimate. Ms. Jillie appeared on-screen, calm and capable, unloading the arrangements with care. A young staffer from the funeral home helped bring them inside.
No issues. The arrangements looked perfect when Ms. Jillie entered with them, and she wasn't inside long enough to alter them in any way. He saw Ms. Jillie leave a few minutes after bringing in the last arrangement.
Then, a half-hour later, there was movement.
A figure in dark clothing, hood up, back turned toward the camera. Too grainy to make out a face, but they entered through the service door. No hesitation.
“Who’s that?” Harper asked, his voice suddenly thin.
“Good question,” Mitch muttered. He rewound and slowed the footage. The person carried nothing in and nothing out. Just strolled in like they belonged. And fifteen minutes later, they left the same way. Still empty-handed.
Mitch paused the footage at the best angle and snapped a picture with his phone. The build was wrong for Noah, too slim. Possibly female. But it could’ve been Travis. He’d need clearer angles to confirm.
“You mind if I forward this clip to my tech guy?” Mitch asked.
Harper nodded. “Just find whoever did this. I've got a grieving family here. Izzy is working on the arrangements, but I don't want this to happen ever again. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Mitch turned and stared Harper in the eyes. "So does Izzy."
He felt vindicated a bit when Harper's shoulders slumped.
Back outside, Mitch stepped into the sunlight and dialed Jayson.
"I've got the footage from the funeral home for you."
“Send it,” Jayson said.
Mitch fired off the clip. “Someone snuck into Harper’s after Ms. Jillie dropped off the flowers and sabotaged them.”
“I’ll run it through filters. You want me to overlay height estimates?”
“Yeah. And compare movement patterns with Travis and Noah. The build’s smaller, but I want to be sure.”
“What about Delilah?”
“I’m wondering the same. She’s small enough to fit the profile. And it seems she may have a reason.”
He hung up, walked the perimeter, and paused by the service entrance. There was a faint scuff mark near the bottom of the frame. A pry? Maybe. Or just a boot scrape. Hard to tell. He called inside for Harper to join him.
As Harper approached, Mitch pointed to the scuff. "Is this door locked all the time?"
"No, as you saw, Ms. Jillie entered without issue. We leave it open for vendors. We've never had reason to feel as though anyone would come in here and do any damage. It's rather sacred here. If you know what I mean."
Mitch nodded. "Okay." He stood and nodded to Harper. "I suggest, for the time being, you put a note on the door for vendors to call you to be let in."
Harper nodded, turned, and went back inside.
Mitch waited until he heard the lock turn before he headed back to the truck.
The tension coiled through his body like wire.
This wasn’t about petty jealousy anymore.
Someone was systematically trying to dismantle Izzy’s life, her business, her reputation, and her confidence.
And Mitch wasn’t going to let it happen.
He started the truck and made a silent vow to find out who did this. Who was doing this to Izzy? Then he'd like to have a real relationship with Ms. Izzy Payton. That is, if she's interested too.