Chapter 34
Gabe spent most of the drive to the inn rehearsing what he'd say and wondering how quickly Blaire would shut him down.
He wasn't wrong.
She answered the door on the third knock, wearing a murderous expression. Behind her, an open suitcase lay on the bed, half-filled with expensive-looking items. She was clearly packing.
"Chief Sawyer." She didn't move to let him in. "I'm busy."
"This won't take long. We arrested Michael Thorne—the man who attacked Cara Sweet last night."
"Congratulations." Her voice dripped with false sweetness. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"
"You're supposed to be careful. He confessed to the assault, and admitted that you were his intended target. But he denies cutting your brake lines. Claims he wasn't even in town when it happened."
Something flickered across Blaire's face. Surprise? Fear? It was gone before Gabe could read it.
"And you believe him?"
"He says he’s got proof he wasn’t in the area at the time. I'm verifying his story. But until I do, I can't rule out that someone else tampered with your car. Someone who might still be out there."
Blaire laughed—a sharp, brittle sound. "How touching. The small-town police chief, worried about little old me."
"I'm doing my job, Ms. Mitchell."
"Your job." She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, studying him like he was something mildly amusing. "Is that what you were doing when you warned me to stay away from Cara Sweet? When you threatened me at the diner?"
"I'm not here to rehash old arguments. I'm here to tell you that you may still be in danger."
"I can take care of myself."
"I'm sure you think so."
Her eyes narrowed. For a moment, the Instagram mask slipped, and Gabe saw something cold and hard underneath.
"You know what, Chief? I appreciate the warning. I really do." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But I've got a busy night ahead of me. Lots to do before I put this place in my rear view."
"You're leaving?"
"ASAP." Her smile sharpened. "I assume Cara told you about our little deadline? Midnight tonight. I hope she's using her last few hours wisely."
Gabe's jaw tightened. "Whatever you think you have on her—"
"What I think I have?" Blaire laughed. "Oh, Gabe. So naive. I know what I have." She tilted her head, eyes glittering with malice. "You might want to prepare yourself. The woman you've been protecting? She's not who you think she is."
"You don't know anything about her."
"I know more than you do. That's the sad part." Blaire stepped back, hand on the door. "Bye bye now. I have packing to finish. And emails to schedule. It's going to be a big night."
The door closed in his face.
Gabe stood there for a long moment, fists clenched at his sides. Six hours until Blaire blew up Cara's life, and there wasn't a single legal thing he could do to stop it.
He'd thought about it all afternoon. Arresting Blaire for blackmail—but Cara would have to press charges, and that meant exposing whatever Blaire had on her.
Seizing her devices—but he had no probable cause, and any evidence would be thrown out.
Warning her off—but threats from a small-town police chief meant nothing to a woman who'd built an empire on other people's secrets.
He was outgunned. Outmaneuvered. And Cara was going to pay the price.