Page 88 of Riptide
"You really don't know," she said finally. Something shifted in her expression—not quite belief, but uncertainty. "Or you're a better liar than I thought."
"I'm not lying."
"Everyone lies." Blaire pushed off from the car, began pacing. "Someone's been targeting me for weeks. The fake FBI investigation. My brakes. Now this." She stopped, turned to face Cara. "And you're the only person in Haven Cove with a reason to want me gone."
"I'm also the person with the least ability to do any of that." Cara let frustration creep into her voice. "I run a bakery, Blaire. I make croissants. I don't know anything about hacking computer systems or cutting brake lines."
"Then who does?"
"I don't know!" The words came out louder than Cara intended. She took a breath, steadied herself. "Look, you came to me. You've been threatening me for weeks, demanding money I don't have. And now you're accusing me of—what? Some kind of cyber attack? I don't even know what that means."
Blaire's jaw tightened. For a moment, Cara thought she'd pushed too hard.
Then Blaire laughed. A short, bitter sound.
"You know what's funny? I actually believe you." She shook her head. "You're not capable of this."
The insult stung more than it should have.
"So if it wasn't me," Cara said carefully, "who was it?"
"That's what I'm going to figure out." Blaire resumed pacing, restless energy crackling off her like static.
Time to push a little harder. “So why tell me?”
“You’re part of my plan.” Blaire stopped pacing. Something flickered across her face—surprise, maybe. Like she hadn't expected pushback.
"You know what I think?" Blaire's voice dropped. "I think we have the same enemy. Someone who wants both of us gone. Someone who's been playing us against each other while they work in the shadows."
Cara's heart quickened, but she kept her expression skeptical. This was exactly what they'd hoped for. Blaire, scared and desperate, reaching out for an ally. Opening the door just wide enough for Cara to slip through.
"That doesn't make sense," Cara said slowly. "Why would anyone target me?"
"I don't know why. I just know what's happening." Blaire stepped closer, close enough that Cara could see the fear she was trying to hide beneath the aggression. "My system is destroyed. Someone tried to kill me three days ago. And you—"She jabbed a finger at Cara. "You're the perfect scapegoat. Easy to blame. Easy to frame."
Keep talking, Cara thought.Keep letting me in.
The irony wasn't lost on her. Two con artists, each thinking they were running the game. Each convinced the other was the mark.
The words landed like stones. Because there was truth in them, twisted though it was.
"What are you suggesting?" Cara asked.
"A truce." Blaire's eyes glittered in the flickering light. "Like I told you at the lighthouse. We stop circling each other and figure out who's really behind this. Pool our information. Watch each other's backs. I don’t need your help with that stupid FBI stuff now, but you know this ridiculous town. Who’s new. Who talks to who. Stuff I can’t see."
Now was the danger time. She couldn’t appear too eager to help the woman trying to destroy her. She needed to resist, but not enough for Blaire to get impatient or angry and withdraw her offer. "Wait, what? Two seconds ago you accused me of cyber-whatever. Why would I want to help you?"
"Because you want to make it through this, obvs." Blaire's mask slipped for just a moment, showing something raw underneath. Fear. Real fear. "Someone out there is working this. They’re clearly connected. And dangerous. Two against one is the way we win this."
Time to play it slow. Keep the tension humming. "Why would I trust you?" Cara asked quietly.
"You wouldn't. You shouldn't." Blaire's smile was thin. "But I'm all you got, girl."
The streetlamp flickered again, longer this time. Shadows jumped and danced across the empty lot.
Cara pretended to wrestle with Blaire’s offer. "Okay," she agreed, feigning serious reluctance. "A truce. But I want something in return."
Blaire smirked. "Of course, you do."
