Page 68 of Bear and Order

"You're staring again," Helena says without looking up.

"I prefer observing," Theo replies, completely unbothered.

"That's just staring with better marketing."

Juniper laughs. Theo places a hand over his chest. "I am wounded."

"No," Helena tells him. "You're dramatic." His grin only widens, and the exchange somehow continues while she reviews evidence without breaking focus — an impressive skill, and one I suspect she developed specifically for dealing with him. I turn back to the files. Safer. Much safer.

Juniper sits beside me, close enough that our shoulders occasionally touch when we reach for the same paperwork. Neither of us comments on it. The contact feels natural now, dangerously natural, and I've stopped pretending I don't notice.

Theo leans back in his chair. "I still think we're missing something." Helena looks up, which immediately captures his attention in a way he makes no effort to conceal. "If Marissa realizes we're moving, she runs." He taps several witness statements. "She has money, connections, resources — and if law enforcement is compromised, somebody warns her before we get close."

The room grows quieter. Juniper's attention sharpens, and so does mine, because Theo isn't wrong.

Helena studies him, then slowly shakes her head. "I disagree."

He raises an eyebrow. "That's because you enjoy chaos."

"I enjoy evidence." The answer arrives immediately. "Those are not mutually exclusive," Theo replies, and Helena looks remarkably close to throwing a folder at him. The possibility seems to delight him, which is unfortunately consistent with everything I've observed about the man.

Daisy clears her throat from the corner, and the sound draws everyone's attention. She lowers her cup with a deliberate calm.

"What if you're both overthinking it?" She points toward Juniper before anyone can answer. "Reveal her publicly."

The room falls silent.

Juniper looks up. "What?"

Daisy shrugs. "Everybody knows who Marissa trusts, everybody knows who she talks to, everybody knows she's involved in business all over this town. If people learn the truth publicly, she loses the advantage before she can use it." Theo's eyes narrow, thinking. Helena's attention sharpens, thinking. Neither of them dismisses it, which tells me more than agreement would.

The discussion begins immediately — different approaches, different risks, different outcomes, strategies overlapping, arguments surfacing, counterarguments following close behind. Exactly the sort of planning session that Helena seems to find genuinely enjoyable. Then someone knocks on the bakery door and the room goes quiet, immediately, everybody turning at once.

Gavin stands outside. His expression is serious — more serious than I have ever seen it, and the distinction matters because this isn't the awkwardness from the festival or the discomfort of a man caught in the wrong conversation. This is something else.

Juniper sees it first. "Gavin?"

I rise automatically — habit, instinct, the line between those things increasingly blurry at this point in the investigation. Gavin enters slowly, his attention moving around the room before settling on Juniper. "I need to talk to you." His gaze shifts toward me. "And Brock."

Theo becomes immediately and visibly interested. Juniper catches it before it goes further. "Privately." Theo looks deeply offended. Helena doesn't bother hiding her amusement. A few moments later the three of us are in the office behind the bakery with the door closed behind us.

Gavin looks nervous. Not awkward, not uncomfortable — nervous, and the distinction matters because nervousness like this comes from somewhere specific. Juniper notices it too.

"What happened?" she asks.

He exhales slowly, then reaches into his briefcase, and my attention sharpens before the first folder even hits the desk. Documents emerge — several folders, several reports, several account summaries — and I don't like surprises, and this already qualifies as one. Gavin spreads everything across the surface and looks at Juniper with an expression that carries the specific weight of someone about to say something they've been rehearsing alone.

"I think I helped her."

Juniper goes still. "What?"

"I didn't know." His voice cracks slightly at the edges. "I swear I didn't know."

I step closer to the desk. "What are you talking about?"

Gavin opens the first folder, then another. Business records, account statements, transaction reports — and my pulse quickens almost immediately, because I recognize some of the names. The same names appearing throughout the investigation. The same businesses, the same shell companies, the same financial network we have been tracing for weeks.

He points toward one section. "Marissa handled portions of my business consulting. Said it would simplify things." The anger underneath his voice is quiet but unmistakable. "I believed her."