Chapter 19
Mitch sat in front of his laptop, arms crossed, watching the security footage from Petal Pushers for the third time. Jayson was on a video call, his face tense, lit by the blue glow of multiple monitors in front of him.
“There,” Jayson said, pausing the feed. “That’s your intruder.”
The frame showed a figure in a green delivery vest, carrying a clipboard and a box marked Clearway Supply . He moved fast, confident, head down to obscure the camera angle.
“Pause it,” Mitch said. “Zoom on the box.”
Jayson did as asked. The logo was clean, too clean. Not a smudge or a dent on the cardboard. Mitch leaned closer.
“That box is empty,” he muttered. “Look at the bottom. No sag. No weight shift. And the angle at which he carries it is a tell. His fingers don't look tight like they would if there was weight in that box.”
Jayson nodded. “It's a prop.”
“Go back,” Mitch said. “I want to see how he got in.”
Jayson moved the slider back five minutes in the video. The side alley camera caught the moment the back door clicked open. No break-in. No forced entry.
“He had a key.” Mitch’s voice went quiet. “Or a copy.”
Jayson whistled low. “That narrows the pool.”
Mitch’s stomach turned. “Ms. Jillie, Izzy, Sadie, Travis…” He trailed off. Ms. Jillie certainly wouldn't do something like this. Sadie wouldn’t, at least, he didn’t want to believe she would. But Travis?
Jayson kept working. “Want me to cross-reference the footage with the hotel exterior cams?”
“Yeah. He left through the alley. If we’re lucky, the hotel caught him heading north. Then cross-reference it with the security cams on the courthouse. We may see which way he heads on Main Square.”
While Jayson tapped away, Mitch’s eyes drifted to the forged slip resting on the table beside him. His thumb brushed over the edge. Whoever had done this wasn’t just playing games; they’d walked into Izzy’s sanctuary. Left a fake trace. Threatened her livelihood and her life.
His jaw clenched.
“Got something,” Jayson said. “He left the alley, walked past the post office, then turned into the lot behind Mae's Bakery. Out of view after that, but wait, hold on.”
Jayson flipped to a new angle, caught by the camera in the back of Mae's.
“There. Boom. Tan SUV. No plates on the front, but we’ll get the rear. Zooming now.”
Mitch’s pulse quickened. “Can you run it?”
“Already doing it. Give me an hour.”
Mitch nodded and leaned back, exhaling slowly.
It was happening. They were closing in. And it was time to get serious.
He turned his head to see Izzy staring at the screen from the kitchen. Her eyes moved to his, and they stared for a moment. He loved looking into her eyes. He'd prefer to do it on a date or while they spent time together, not looking for criminals.
"Did you hear all of that?"
"Yeah."
"We're narrowing it down."
She nodded in reply, her eyes leaving his and staring at the computer screen in front of him. "I know."
Just two words, but they told him everything. She looked into his eyes again. "I trust you. I know you're doing everything you can."
His heart swelled with pride and the newfound trust she'd bestowed on him.
To have her trust meant the world to him.
He'd work day and night to make sure that trust wasn't misplaced.
For the first time in years, he wanted to get to know a woman more.
No one had piqued his interest in a long time.
But he felt a pull to Izzy, and he wanted to know everything about her.
He wanted to have dinner with her and wake up in the morning with her.
He liked being in her presence. He liked having her in his space.
All of this made him a bit scared and excited all at once.
He needed to wrap this up to protect her so she could be in his life in a real way, not as protector and client.
Whoever was behind this had made a mistake.
They came after the wrong woman.
He stood and sauntered to where Izzy stood a few feet away.
The instant he was close, she leaned into him and her arms wrapped around his waist. His arms pulled her into his body and held her close.
He rested his head on hers, inhaling her sweet scent, enjoying how she felt pulled tightly against him.
She felt as if she were made for him. A feeling he'd never felt before rushed through him at the speed of light.
A calm came over him as thoughts settled in his mind. She was brought here for him.
Later that evening, after dinner, dishes, and time spent together watching some silly romantic comedy which made Izzy laugh more than him, Mitch stood on his patio, the night thick around him, phone pressed to his ear as he waited for Jayson to answer.
The moonlight cast long shadows across the parking lot, but Mitch wasn’t watching the trees or the sidewalk.
His focus was razor-sharp, his body still riding the electric current of adrenaline that shot through him every time he thought about someone hurting Izzy.
Finally, the line clicked. “Got a hit,” Jayson said, his voice clipped and focused. “Ran the rear plate. It’s registered to a Samuel Briggs, P.O. Box in Bowling Green. That’s a dead-end shell if I’ve ever seen one.”
Mitch swore under his breath. “What about the vehicle?”
“Tan, ‘09 Trailblazer. No traffic violations, no service records under that tag for the past three years. Either someone’s keeping a low profile, or it’s a burner.”
“Anyone local tied to it?”
“Working on it, but here's the thing,” Jayson said. “I pulled old footage from around Petal Pushers the day of the fire. The same SUV was parked across from the alley. Just sitting there for about twenty minutes. Engine running. Someone was watching her even then.”
Mitch’s hand curled into a fist. “Is it possible to get hotel camera footage for the alley for the thirty days prior to the first break-in? I'd like to see how long this asshole has been stalking her. Watching her patterns. And if he has ties to Delilah or anyone else we're suspicious of.”
“I'll see what I can do on that front. So far, the Hotel has been great to work with. They don't like the idea of someone out there hurting Izzy or anyone else.” Jayson said.
Mitch’s blood turned cold.
He hung up and walked back inside. Securing the locks on the door and pushing the stop down to ensure no one entered.
He paused to look at Izzy asleep on the couch.
She’d dozed off under a throw blanket, her face soft in the low light, the crease between her brows finally relaxed.
Seeing her like that, safe, for now, burned into him.
It made everything else background noise.
He wasn't sure when this had changed from a mission to a personal matter, but it was that now and so much more.
He crossed the room quietly, sat in the armchair across from her, and opened his laptop.
He reviewed every note he and Jayson had compiled.
Every time stamp. Every event. The explosion.
The fake delivery. The floral sabotage. The threat in the alley.
Someone was getting closer and bolder. They now entered the building.
Whoever it was knew her schedule, her habits, even how to manipulate the people around her. And they weren’t finished.
His eyes landed on the digital image of the Clearway Supply slip again.
The handwriting was messy. Not panicked. Just rushed.
He leaned in closer. Something about the slant of the letters tugged at a memory. He’d seen handwriting like that on something. He closed his eyes for a moment trying to drag the memory from the depths of his mind. Ah, finally, he recalled. It was a witness statement.
He opened his archived files, cross-referenced the loops in the capital letters. The slant of the lowercase ‘t.’ The angular hook on the ‘y.’
Then it hit him like a gut punch.
The handwriting matched an old report from Travis Fielder’s past, back when he’d been caught forging documents at his father’s garage to pocket extra cash. The charges had been dropped, but Mitch had remembered it because Travis had been arrogant and smug, even under pressure.
And the writing? It was now burned into Mitch’s brain.
He copied both images and texted Jayson:
Pull Travis’s employment records. I think we’ve got a match.
Then he stood, quietly turning off the lamp. He walked to the couch and gently shifted Izzy’s blanket so it covered her better. Her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake. He lingered for a long second, hand hovering near her cheek but not quite touching.
She was the strongest person he knew, and still, someone had tried to break her.
He wouldn’t let it happen.