Page 38 of Crosscurrent

Then he walked away.

Gabe rewound the footage and watched the head tilt again.

Cold recognition slid through him. “This guy was in the alley last night.”

Cara nodded immediately. “That’s what I think too.”

Gabe handed back the phone. “We need to get downstairs.”

They headed down the outer stairs to the back door. The door released with a soft hydraulic click after Cara pressed her thumb to the scanner.

Wade stood near the monitor wall with one hand braced against the table, broad shoulders tense beneath a dark thermal henley. He looked like he’d come up hard from dead sleep and gone straight into operational mode.

“Same guy from the alley,” Wade said. “I’d bet my next catch on it.”

Tom’s face filled one of the wall monitors from his home setup, expression tight as footage rolled across his screen. “You’re gonna win that bed, big guy. We’ve got the same gait. Same height. Same boots.” Tom enlarged the still frame. “I’m officially calling it.”

Skye occupied the far workbench with her knees drawn up against her chest, a yoga mat propped behind her like she’d tried and failed to convince herself to rest.

Owen sat beside Tom’s empty workstation in yesterday’s cardigan with Agent sprawled across his lap, tablet forgotten in one hand.

Nobody looked rested.

Wade’s jaw tightened slightly as he studied the footage. “He got bolder.”

Footsteps sounded overhead. Then the basement stair door opened, and Diane descended carrying a wet dish towel over one arm as if she’d simply stepped away from the ovens for a moment. “He wore the same shoes,” she said.

Everybody looked at her.

“The man this morning and the one in the alley.” Diane’s voice stayed calm. Steadier than most people’s would’ve been. “I noticed it from the video you showed me this morning. It’s the same tread pattern. Same heavy sole.”

She glanced toward Cara. “I don’t think he expected me to notice.”

The room went quiet.

Then Diane added, with sudden iron underneath the softness, “I will not let these people take my mornings.”

Something about the statement hit Gabe harder than the surveillance footage had.

Not fear. Defiance.

Cara’s expression softened. “I agree. No way that happens.”

Diane nodded once and headed back upstairs toward the sound of customers and espresso steam and Saturday pastries.

Gabe stayed standing, staring at the frozen image on the monitor. The fleece jacket.

The lug-sole boots. The deliberate stillness outside Sugar & Salt.

This was escalation.

Nobody spoke for several seconds.

Above them, faint through the ceiling, the bakery bell chimed again. Normal life continuing overhead.

Skye finally broke the silence. “They are tightening the perimeter.”

Gabe looked back at the frozen image on the monitor—the man standing motionless outside Sugar & Salt like he already knew the layout inside.