Chapter 20
The afternoon light slanting 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.
Ordinary people doing extraordinary things in the aftermath of violence.
Except there was nothing ordinary about any of this. Or these people, he was coming to realize.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, saw Morrison's name, and his stomach dropped.
"I need to take this." He stepped outside before anyone could respond.
The call connected before he finished pulling the door closed.
"Where are you, Sawyer?" His supervisor’s tone could have striped paint. "And don't tell me you're still in Oregon."
"I'm following leads on my brother’s disappearance."
"You're AWOL from an active Internal Affairs investigation that you were specifically ordered to close. The Deputy Director is asking questions. I've been covering for you, but that ends now."
Gabe leaned against the bakery's exterior wall. Cold seeped through his jacket. "I need more time."
Morrison's tone shifted from fury to something harder. "Forty-eight hours. That's what you get. Wrap up whatever personal drama you're chasing and get back here, or I'm filing termination papers. Your badge, your career, your pension. All of it gone."
"My brother is missing."
"And I'm sorry about that. Genuinely. But you don't get to abandon your responsibilities because of family issues. Two days, Sawyer."
The line went dead.
Gabe stared at his phone. Forty-eight hours to find David, expose a smuggling operation, and somehow keep his career intact.
Impossible math.
He turned and saw Cara watching him through the window. When he stepped back inside, she didn't ask. Just handed him a bottle of water and returned to sweeping without a word.
The kindness of it hit him sideways.
He grabbed David's flash drive from his jacket pocket. Blue plastic. Lighter than it should be given what it contained. His brother's last insurance policy. Evidence worth killing for.
All locked behind a password he couldn't guess.
Tom glanced over from his shelf repair. "Problem?"
"Password protected. I've tried everything I can think of." Gabe turned the drive over in his palm. "David's note said it was something only I would know. A question he asked when we were kids, and I gave the worst answer possible."
"Sounds like a sibling thing." Tom set down his drill. "What kind of stuff did you argue about?"
What didn’t they argue about? Baseball teams. Video games. Whether their dad was a hero or a fool for investigating corruption.
He pulled out his laptop and set it on the least destroyed section of counter then plugged in the drive.
A password prompt appeared.
He thought for a minute, then typed.
PHILLIES
Incorrect password
MARIO
Incorrect password
HERO
Incorrect password
His jaw tightened. He tried variations. Combinations. Everything he could remember David caring about as a kid.
All failed.
"Take a break." Cara appeared beside him with coffee he didn't remember her making. "Forcing it won't help."
"I don't have time for breaks. Forty-eight hours before my supervisor files paperwork that ends my career." He heard the edge in his own voice. Couldn't stop it. "David trusted me to figure this out, but I can't even get past the first step."
She set the coffee down. Didn't argue. Didn't try to fix it.
Just stood there. Steady. Present.
The bakery door opened. Reagan bustled in carrying bags from the diner, her blonde hair escaping its bun, apron stained with evidence of the lunch rush.
"Nobody's eaten since breakfast." She started unpacking containers. "Tom, stop drilling. Wade, put down the scary tools. Piper, your hands better be clean."
"They're not," Piper called cheerfully. "But I'll wash them."
Within minutes, the destroyed bakery smelled like burgers and fries and apple pie. Reagan laid everything out on the one intact table like she was setting up for a family dinner instead of feeding people at a crime scene.
"Gabe." She pointed at a chair. "Sit. Eat. You look like you're about to fall over."
He wanted to argue, but his body made the decision for him. He sat.
Tom settled across from him. Wade took the end spot, positioning himself with clear sight lines to both doors. Piper plopped down next to Cara and immediately started talking about the structural integrity of the espresso machine.
Reagan distributed food, quietly making sure everyone had what they needed.
Gabe ate without tasting anything. But he observed Cara’s friends as they moved around each other with easy familiarity.
Piper teased her dad and Tom took it with good-natured patience.
Wade cracked exactly one joke about the difference between screws and nails, and everyone laughed because Wade making jokes was apparently noteworthy.
They all looked at Cara like she was family.
"Thank you." Cara's voice was quiet. Aimed at the table generally. "All of you. Showing up like this. Helping. I don't know how to repay this."
"You don't," Reagan said simply. "You just show up when it's your turn."
Tom nodded. "Besides, Piper needed to learn proper disaster response. Life skills."
"I'm literally documenting everything for my college applications," Piper informed them. "Community service hours count double if there's property damage involved. I checked."
That earned another laugh. Warm. Real.
Gabe's chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the food.
If I disappeared tomorrow, who'd show up?
Morrison would file paperwork. His condo neighbors might notice the mail piling up after a week. The woman at the coffee shop near his apartment might wonder why he stopped coming in.
But this? People dropping everything to help? Showing up with food and tools and time?
He didn't have this.
David was the only family he had left. The only person who'd come looking if Gabe vanished.
And it had taken Gabe three weeks to come to the rescue.
The thought must have shown on his face because Cara touched his arm lightly. Brief. Gone before anyone else noticed.
But he felt it.