Chapter 32
The first rays of morning light barely crept through the narrow windows, but Izzy had given up pretending to sleep hours ago.
She sat at the small kitchen table, cradling a mug of lukewarm coffee between her hands.
It was her third cup. Maybe fourth. She’d stopped counting sometime after three in the morning when the silence inside the cabin grew louder than the wind, and her swirling thoughts of just how she had gotten into something like this.
She was an average girl, woman, trying to earn a living with a small-town flower shop.
Granted, she didn't have a mortgage to worry about; she'd inherited the shop from her father when he passed.
And she lived upstairs, planning to one day earn enough money to buy a little farm outside of town where she could grow a lot of her flowers.
The greenhouse worked for now, but she had big plans.
Now, she was being hunted by a man with delusions, her greenhouse was damaged, and she'd need to pay for repairs.
She lived like a nomad on the run, her clientele was scattered, and her life seemed too chaotic to ever put back together.
And, Sadie. They were okay after a spat.
But they hadn't gotten to the point where it was like it was before, and her life was a mess right now, too.
Mitch paced quietly in the living room, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other holding his phone to his ear. It was his third call to Jayson since midnight.
She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but this cabin was small, and the stillness made everything sound closer.
“Any activity?” Mitch’s voice was a low rasp.
A pause.
Izzy strained to hear Jayson’s reply.
“Nothing on Noah,” Mitch said, his jaw tightening. “Still off-grid.”
Another pause, then Mitch gave a short nod. “Understood. Send me the file.”
He hung up and turned toward her. Their eyes met, and she tried to offer a small smile. It didn’t quite land.
“You should be resting,” he said softly, moving to refill her cup.
“I tried,” she replied. “My brain’s not cooperating.”
He poured the coffee and slid it across the table, then settled across from her. “Mine either.”
They sat in silence for a beat before he spoke again. “Jayson had something on Travis. Thought you’d want to know.”
Her pulse ticked up. “Go on.”
“They found texts between Travis and Delilah. More than just flirty crap. It looks like she was paying him for cash drops. Possibly using his night job as cover for it. And she’s been threatening to go public with the affair and his illegal activity if he backs out.”
Izzy’s brows lifted. “So he’s being blackmailed?”
Mitch nodded. “Which might explain why he stuck around even after things started heating up. Jayson’s digging deeper into the payments. If they can trace anything back to the drugs found in Delilah’s salon, Travis could be looking at serious time.”
"But Delilah will be as well."
"Yes. They'll both be in jail."
Izzy exhaled slowly. “Sadie’s going to be heartbroken.”
“Yeah. But she deserves to know the truth.”
They sat in silence again. The soft hum of wildlife had returned outside, a squirrel darted past the window, a bird chirped from the tree line, and a chipmunk chattered to its family.
“Think he’s gone?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Mitch shook his head. “I think he’s regrouping. He made a move last night that didn’t land. Now he’ll adjust.”
She wrapped her hands tighter around her mug. “Then we’ll be ready.”
He gave a small smile. “That’s my girl.”
She barely smiled, but his calling her "my girl" sent a shiver through her body. She looked into his eyes, "What was in the envelope Noah left?"
Mitch shook his head slightly. "I haven't heard from Trey yet. I imagine they have their protocols to follow before information can be exchanged. He's good though, and always lets me know when he can."
Despite the exhaustion, despite the weight in her chest, warmth bloomed at those words. She wasn’t just being protected. She was part of this. Part of him.
Mitch’s phone buzzed again, and he rose to check it. “Jayson’s sending security footage from last night. Something about a figure near the shop after hours. He wants me to review it before looping in Fielding.”
Izzy stood too, shaky but steady. “Then let’s take a look. I might recognize something.”
Mitch’s eyes softened. “You sure?”
She nodded. “I didn’t come all this way just to hide.”
As they moved toward the laptop together, Izzy felt something else: resolve.
She might be exhausted. She might still be scared. But she wasn’t powerless. And she was going to stop this asshole before he did anything else to her or her shop. Then she'd work on rebuilding everything. From the ground up, if she had to, but she'd do it.
The laptop screen flickered to life as Mitch loaded the footage Jayson had just sent.
Izzy leaned in beside him, their shoulders touching, the scent of fresh coffee and tension filling the small cabin.
The footage was grainy, a wide-angle from the alley behind Petal Pushers, timestamped just past midnight.
“There,” Mitch pointed.
A figure moved at the edge of the frame, lanky, slow, deliberate. It sure looked like Noah.
He didn’t rush. Didn’t sneak. He walked like he owned the place.
Izzy’s stomach turned as he stopped near the back door of the shop, crouched, and appeared to take something from his pocket.
He slipped it into the slot of the utility box affixed to the brick wall, something small and pale, maybe another note, and then stood still for several seconds, just staring at the back door.
Izzy could almost feel his eyes on her, even through the screen. Like he thought she might open it. Like he was waiting.
“Creepy bastard,” Mitch muttered.
They watched in silence as Noah stepped away, disappearing into the shadows again without looking back.
Mitch paused the video. “He’s still circling. Testing boundaries.”
Izzy folded her arms, gripping her elbows. “He doesn't act afraid. He's so bold, as if he knows where everything is and owns it.”
“No, he doesn't act scared at all.” Mitch agreed. “But he’s slipping. This kind of behavior, leaving notes, watching from outside, it escalates. And it leaves a trail.”
His phone buzzed again. This time it was Fielding.
Mitch answered, switching to speaker. “Go ahead, Trey.”
“We processed the envelope,” Fielding said without preamble. “It’s handwritten, ballpoint pen, shaky lines, likely written in haste. No fingerprints. No postal service involvement. Just one sheet of paper.”
Izzy’s heart thumped harder.
“What did it say?” Mitch asked.
Fielding hesitated. “It’s a love note. At least that’s how it reads.
He talks about watching Izzy, protecting her from the people who ‘don’t deserve her,’ and how they’ll be together, ‘when the time is right.’ Mentions her favorite flowers.
A specific mug from the shop. Things only someone who’s been watching closely would know. ”
Izzy sucked in a breath. Her throat tightened.
“It’s delusional,” Fielding continued. “But it’s not overtly threatening. Not enough to charge him with anything direct yet. We’re forwarding a copy to Jayson. You’ll want to see it.”
Mitch’s jaw flexed. “Understood. Thanks, Trey.”
Fielding’s voice softened. “We’ll get him, Mitch. Just need a little more. He’s close to cracking. He always seems to be just a step ahead of us. We're calling in the Summerville police so we have more manpower.”
Mitch nodded, and Izzy stared at his profile. His jaw was tight, and his shoulders raised slightly.
The line went dead.
Izzy stood still for a long moment, then turned to Mitch. “He knows about the mug. That’s not on display. It’s under the counter. I use it every day.”
“He’s been inside,” Mitch said. “And not just the shop. He’s been studying you. Obsessing.”
The nausea rose again, hot and heavy, but Izzy pushed it down. “We need to find him before this escalates. If he thinks we’re a couple, what happens if he decides you’re in the way?”
Mitch stepped close, bracing her arms. “He won’t touch you. I swear it.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But that note proves we’re out of time. He’s not just watching anymore. He’s fantasizing. And if you weren’t in the picture...”
“Don’t finish that thought,” Mitch said. “Because I am in the picture. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Her hands shook, but not from fear. From adrenaline. Resolve. “Then let’s catch him, Mitch. Let’s end this.”
Mitch nodded, his gaze burning with the same purpose she felt igniting inside her.
And for the first time since the sabotage started, Izzy wasn’t just reacting.
She was ready to fight back.