Page 59 of Riptide
A few minutes later, her phone rang. Reagan.
"How did it go?"
"She's hooked." Reagan's voice carried satisfaction. "Completely bought Lisa Ross as the vengeful business partner. I played desperate but professional—gave her enough details to keep investigating but held back the really juicy stuff."
"What did you tell her?"
"That Miranda and I started the company together. That I trusted her completely. That when the SEC came sniffing around, I discovered she'd been embezzling for two years." Reagan paused. "I made it personal. Told Blaire that Miranda wasn't just my business partner—she was my friend. The betrayal hurt more than the money."
"Did Blaire buy it?"
"Completely. She actually sounded sympathetic. Said she understood how painful betrayal was." Reagan's laugh was bitter. "The irony."
"What did she ask for?"
"Access to Miranda's personnel files. Her last known addresses. Any communication I had with her after she disappeared." Reagan rattled off the list. "I told her I'd send everything by end of day. That I wanted her to find Miranda fast—before the feds did."
"That'll keep her motivated."
"That's the idea. She's scheduled another call for tomorrow. Wants to update me on her progress." Reagan paused. "Cara, she's really good at this. The way she built rapport, made me feel heard, promised results. If I didn't know what she was, I'd trust her completely."
"That's how she gets them," Cara said quietly.
Silence on the line.
"We're going to stop her," Reagan said finally. "Tom's almost in."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur.
Cara worked beside Diane, making lattes, boxing pastries and smiling at customers, all of it on autopilot.
What would they find in Blaire's system? How many victims? How much evidence of illegal database access?
Would it be enough to stop her?
Finally, she flipped the sign to "Closed" and locked the door.
Diane was counting the register. "Good day. Better than yesterday."
"Thanks to you."
"We make a good team." Diane bagged the day's earnings. "You heading out?"
"Meeting with friends. You?"
"Home. Hot bath. Terrible reality TV." Diane smiled. "The glamorous life."
After Diane left, Cara stood alone in the darkened bakery.
She pulled out her phone, looked at Blaire's latest text.
Don't forget your check-in tomorrow, sweetie! And don't stress too much about the money. I'm sure your friend will come through.
The casual cruelty of it. The performative sweetness masking the threat.
Cara locked the register, turned off the lights, and headed for the basement stairs.
The team was already gathered when she descended.
