Page 151 of Sugar & Shadows

“It was him,” I said. It was sloppy, emotional, and intentional. Almost as if he wanted to be caught. “I don’t know why he did it, but the evidence is solid.”

She stared at her hands. “He was so scared. And he’d been acting strange for months. He must have felt so trapped.”

My heart broke for her. On the surface, she was this fierce, aggressive beast. But that façade masked the deep love and devotion she had for her siblings.

I believed her. And I wanted to help.

“We’re not stopping,” I assured them. “But given how messy this could get, as well as the money and power involved, you two need to stay quiet publicly.”

Frankie grunted, but I glared, shutting her down.

“No public arguments with the police chief, no more op-eds in the paper.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, her head down.

“We can’t arouse suspicion,” I said. “That’s the fastest way to bury Caleb.”

The room went silent.

Outside, the gray skies cast the entire town in shadows. The long, drawn-out end of winter was crushing. But not as crushing as the pressure of all the parts of my life pressing down on me all at once. The town, TAP, the Maplewood Games proposal, the pregnancy, my relationship—or lack thereof—with Gabe. And this town—a place I’d come to love, hanging on by the barest of threads.

It all depended on me. I could not fall down this rabbit hole. Maplewood needed me functional and focused.

“Thank you,” Nina said softly. “You’ve already done so much.”

“Not enough yet,” I said, looking at her pretty face, trying to hold all the broken pieces together. “But some things do not add up.”

Frankie’s eyebrows rose. “And eventually, we will figure it all out.”

Chapter 39

Sabrina

“You ready?” Gabe stood at my front door, wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots. His hair was covered by a Lawrence farm hat, and he hadn’t shaved.

His stubble alone made my stomach flip.

“You said we weren’t going to the farm.”

“We’re not. I told you, this is a secret date.”

“Normally when I go on dates, it’s at least closer to evening, and I’m wearing nicer clothes,” I explained.

He’d been adamant that I should wear casual clothes and be “incognito,” whatever that meant.

He gave me that cocky, crooked smile. “You’ve never been on a date with me. Get ready to have your mind blown.”

As I was settling in the passenger seat of his Jeep, I discovered a stainless-steel mug of my favorite ginger tea in the cupholder and a variety of my favorite snacks in a small bag.

“You going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked as he merged onto 89, headed north.

“Birch Hollow,” he said.

Shock hit me like a physical blow, and I pushed back into my seat.

“The local maple producers are meeting today to discuss regional tourism.”

“And we’re crashing it?” I said, rubbing my hands together.