5. Chapter 5 The Walk to Her Car
Suzanne
The note is waiting for me when I unlock Butter & Bean's back door at six a.m.
White paper. Folded once. Tucked under the door like someone slid it there in the dark while I was sleeping twenty feet above in my apartment.
I pick it up with shaking fingers.
You can't hide in Whiskey Bend.
No signature. No return address. Just those five words in neat, printed letters that make my hands go cold before my brain catches up.
I crumple it fast, shoving it deep in my apron pocket like that'll make it disappear. My hands won't stop trembling as I flip on the lights, start the espresso machine, and arrange pastries I baked yesterday when I couldn't sleep.
The morning rush helps. Old Mr. Peterson wants his usual black coffee. Two moms from the elementary school order lattes and gossip about the upcoming fundraiser. I smile. I chat. I lie through every minute of it.
By noon, my face hurts from faking it.
I'm running low on milk. The grocery order I placed yesterday was delayed, so I need to make a run to the store before tomorrow morning's rush. Just one more thing on a day that already feels like too much.
General Tso struts through the front door when a customer leaves it propped open, his beady eyes scanning for crumbs like he owns the place. He pecks at a scone crumb near the counter, then hops onto the windowsill and crows loud enough to rattle glass.
"You're a menace," I tell him.
He ruffles his feathers like he's proud of it.
The bell over the door chimes. I glance up, ready with my customer-service smile.
Cole Harper fills the doorway.
He's not in his turnout gear today. Just jeans, a black T-shirt stretched across shoulders that seem broader every time I see him, and boots that have seen some miles. His dark hair is slightly mussed, like he ran his hands through it too many times.
His eyes find mine immediately.
"Afternoon, Suzanne."
My name in his low, rough voice does something to my pulse that I refuse to examine.
"Afternoon, Firefighter Harper." I keep my tone light. Breezy. "Here for another safety inspection?"
"Something like that."
He moves through the shop like he's cataloging exits and weak points. General Tso watches him from the windowsill, head cocked like he's deciding whether Cole's a threat or an ally.
"Everything checked out?" I ask when Cole finishes his circuit and plants himself at the counter.
"You tell me."
"Everything's fine."
"You're a terrible liar."
I'm busy wiping down the espresso machine for the third time today. "I don't know what you mean."
"Suzanne." Just my name. That's all he says. But the way he says it makes my hands still on the towel.
I look up. Cole's watching me with those sharp, assessing eyes that see too much. "What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Try again."
"I'm serious. It's just been a long day."
"The note in your pocket says otherwise."
My breath catches. "How did you…"
"You keep touching it. Right here." He taps his own hip where my apron pocket sits. "You've done it six times since I walked in."
Heat floods my face. I hate that he noticed. I hate that I'm that obvious.
"It's nothing," I say quietly.
"Show me."
It's not a request. It's a command delivered in that calm, steady voice that probably works wonders at fire scenes. My body wants to obey before my brain catches up.
I pull the crumpled note from my pocket and smooth it on the counter between us.
Cole reads it in one glance. His jaw ticks. That's the only outward sign, but I feel the shift in him like a storm rolling in.
"When did you find this?"
"This morning. Under the back door."
"Did you touch anything else? The door handle? The frame?"
"I... yes. I unlocked the door. Why?"
He pulls out his phone and takes a photo of the note. "I'm sending this to my brother, Beau. He's got a PI looking into things."
"Cole, it's probably just…"
"Don't." His gaze snaps to mine. "Don't downplay this. Someone knows where you live. Someone wants to scare you."
"Well, it's working."
The admission slips out before I can stop it. Cole's expression softens just slightly, enough that I see the man underneath the protector.
"What time do you close tonight?" he asks.
"Six. But I need to run to the grocery store after. The delivery didn't come through, and I'm almost out of milk."
Something shifts in his expression. "Where's your car?"
"Out back. There's a small lot behind the building."
"I'll be here at six. I'm walking you to it."
"That's not necessary."
"It is."
"Cole."
"Suzanne." He leans forward, forearms bracing on the counter, bringing us almost eye-level. "I'm walking you to your car. You can argue if it makes you feel better, but I'm still doing it."
I should push back. But the truth is, I'm tired of being scared.
"Fine," I say.
"Good."
He straightens, and I already miss the warmth of him being close. General Tso crows again from the window, as if commenting on the whole exchange.
Cole glances at the rooster. "Does he always hang around?"
"Pretty much. I think he's adopted me."
"Smart bird."
Something in the way he says it makes my cheeks warm. I turn away, fussing with the pastry case to hide my reaction.
"I'll see you at six," Cole says.
"Okay."
He pauses at the door, looking back. "Lock this behind me."
I do.
The afternoon drags. Every customer who walks in makes me flinch. Every car that slows outside the window sets my nerves jangling.
By the time six o'clock rolls around, I'm wound so tight I might snap.
Cole appears exactly on time, because of course he does. He waits while I count the register, wipe down tables, and turn off lights. He doesn't rush me. Doesn't hover. Just stands near the door like a wall between me and everything outside.
"Ready?" he asks when I grab my keys and purse.
"Yeah."
We head through the back hallway, past the stairs that lead up to my apartment. The parking lot behind Butter & Bean is small, just enough space for my beat-up Honda and a few customer spots. The sun's starting to dip, painting everything in orange and gold.
Cole walks beside me, not touching. Near enough that I feel the warmth of him. Near enough to catch me if I fell.
"Tell me what you're not telling me," he says quietly.
I laugh. It comes out wrong.
"That's a pretty broad question."
"Suzanne."
"I'm fine, Cole. Really."
"You're terrified."
"I'm handling it."
"You shouldn't have to handle it alone."
We reach my car. I fumble with my keys, dropping them once before managing to unlock the door. Cole picks them up, his fingers brushing mine as he hands them back.
He's standing close enough that I can feel the warmth coming off him. Not touching. Just present. Like a wall between me and the whole parking lot.
I look up. He's already looking at me.
His hand settles on my elbow. Big. Warm. Steadying in a way that makes my throat tight.
"Whatever this is," he says, voice low and rough, "whatever you're running from... You don't have to do it alone. Not anymore."
I want to believe him. I almost do. My hand tightens around my keys.
"I should go," I say instead.
Cole's thumb sweeps once across the inside of my elbow, a touch so gentle it nearly undoes me. Then he steps back.
"Text me when you get back."
"Cole…"
"Text me, Suzanne."
I nod. Slide into the driver's seat. Fit the key into the ignition.
The engine turns over, coughs, and dies.
I try again. Same result.
"What the hell?" I mutter, checking the dashboard.
That's when I see it. A warning light I've never seen before, flashing angrily red next to the check engine symbol.
Cole's already moving, pulling open my door. "Pop the hood."
I do. He disappears around the front of the car while I sit frozen, heart hammering.
This isn't a coincidence. It can't be. A moment later, Cole reappears at my window, his expression carved from stone.
"Get out of the car," he says quietly.
"What? Why?"
"Now, Suzanne."
The tone leaves no room for argument. I climb out on shaking legs. I already know what he's going to say before he says it.
Cole pulls out his phone, already dialing. "Nash? Yeah, it's me. I need you at Butter & Bean. Now." He listens for a beat, then: "Someone tampered with Suzanne's car."