Page 51 of Bear and Order

"You literally just laughed."

"I laugh at many things." His gaze flicks between us and the grin grows wider, and I decide not to help because some battles should be fought alone. Eventually Theo relents and motions us toward the desk. "Come look at this."

The amusement drops from his expression entirely as we gather around the files. "Things are moving quickly."

"How quickly?"

He points toward two separate reports. "These warehouses are closed." Juniper studies them. "When?"

"Very recently." Theo taps the pages. "Records are disappearing, businesses are dissolving, assets are moving." The pattern becomes obvious — someone is cleaning house, fast, too fast. "They know we're getting close," Juniper says quietly, and Theo nods. So do I.

Every road keeps leading back to the same place. The same consulting company, the same connections, the same name. Marissa. The thought settles heavily. The evidence still isn't complete, yet every new discovery pulls the circle tighter, and if she's involved she's becoming desperate. Desperate people make mistakes — the challenge is surviving long enough to catch them.

I find Juniper on the balcony later. The evening air is cool and the town stretches below us, lights glowing from homes and storefronts. There was silence for a while, then Juniper leans against the railing and points toward a distant building. "See that?"

"The apartment?"

She smiles. "My apartment."

"It's nice."

"It has terrible plumbing." I chuckle, and she glances sideways. "I believe in honesty."

The smile stays on her face, and I find I can't stop looking at her — the wind catching her hair, the town lights reflecting in her eyes, the easy way she carries herself even after everything the past weeks have cost her. Something inside me settles at the sight of it. Quiet, unexpected and dangerously comforting.

For years I've lived out of suitcases and moved from assignment to assignment, never staying and never belonging anywhere long enough to want to. Yet standing here beside Juniper, something different takes shape — a home, a routine, a future. Not somewhere else.

Here. In this town. With her.

The feeling should unsettle me. Instead I watch her smile and discover that staying, the thing I've spent years avoiding without once examining why, suddenly feels exactly right.

23

JUNIPER

Icatch myself smiling at absolutely nothing, the realization arriving halfway through arranging pastries in the display case. Actually, that isn't true — I'm not smiling at nothing. I'm smiling because I'm thinking about Brock. His face when the Town Hall secretary accidentally became a witness to our morning, the way he looked at me on the balcony, the peace that seemed to settle over him when we stood together. My smile grows, and then I immediately force it away, because smiling at pastries is embarrassing enough. Smiling at the thoughts of Brock is significantly worse.

The front door bursts open and the bell rattles violently. Daisy storms inside, and one look at her face tells me the cheerful mood is over. Immediately. "What happened?"

She drops several newspapers onto the counter. "Apparently we're today's entertainment."

My stomach tightens. I pick up the first paper, then the second, then the third. The headlines vary. The accusations don't.

Community Concerns Continue Over Sweetbell Bakery. Questions Remain About Local Business Practices. Residents Demand Accountability.

Different headlines, same message, same poison. Daisy points toward one article. "This one quotes anonymous sources."

I skim the paragraph and my jaw tightens. "They're lying."

"I know." The accusations worsen with every line — unsafe products, questionable practices, hidden violations, and not a single claim supported by evidence. That doesn't stop them, because rumors don't need evidence. They only need an audience. Ollie approaches from the counter, his look reflecting my mood.

The front door opens again and a customer enters. Hope flickers immediately. The woman walks halfway toward the counter, notices the newspapers, and her expression changes. The hesitation lasts only a moment before she turns around and leaves, and the bell rings again and the bakery becomes silent. Nobody says anything, because there isn't anything to say.

Soon a regular steps in. Even through the accusations she remains faithful to my brand.

“Hi Natalie,” I fix my countenance to attend to her but the weary look on her face throws me off.

“You are not here for a friendly visit, are you?”