Page 16 of Riptide
Cara sat in the sudden silence, Wade's words echoing.
I know who you are now. That's enough.
But was it? Would it still be enough when Blaire posted everything? When the team discovered Cara wasn't just someone with a questionable inheritance, but a federal fugitive with seven years of prison time hanging over her head?
She looked at her phone. Silent for once. No texts from Blaire.
Even predators had to sleep sometime.
But for the first time since this nightmare started, Cara didn't feel completely alone.
She had until seven PM to decide.
Ask the team for help and risk exposing everything.
Or face Blaire alone and watch it all burn anyway.
UNTITLED
You're right—let's keep Gabe completely clean. He only investigates Blaire, never Cara. And the strategic angle of WHY Blaire approached Gabe is a great tension-builder. Here's the full revised chapter:
5
Gabe had beenPolice Chief of Haven Cove for exactly three weeks, and he was beginning to suspect the job description had been intentionally misleading.
He sat in a corner booth at the Salt Water Grill—red vinyl, checkered floor, coffee that could strip paint—reviewing his morning's accomplishments: one noise complaint (Harold Bianchi's roosters), one parking dispute (two tourists arguing over a spot that could've fit three cars), and a very serious report about Mrs. Sanderson’s suspicion that her neighbor was "up to something" because he'd bought mulch at 0800 on a Tuesday.
The mulch turned out to be for his garden.
Gabe stabbed his burger, remembering the last case he'd worked in Philadelphia. A mole inside the Bureau selling classified intel to foreign agents. Three months of surveillance, dead drops, encrypted communications. He'd identified the leak, built the case, watched them lead the agent out in handcuffs.
High stakes. Clear mission. Actual criminals.
Now he investigated mulch.
The truth was, he'd wanted this. After David's kidnapping, after realizing how close he'd come to losing his brother, Gabehad re-evaluated everything. The FBI had been his life for fifteen years. But what kind of life was it when you were too busy chasing traitors to notice your own brother was in danger?
As his friend Tyler Price had said, "It's an interim position. Slip in, catch your breath, and decide what life after the Bureau means."
Smaller pond. Quieter life. Time to actually be present for the people he cared about.
People like Cara.
He took a long sip of coffee, trying not to think about the way she'd looked at him yesterday morning. That mix of want and fear in her eyes. The careful distance she maintained despite the obvious attraction between them.
She was hiding something. Whatever it was, she deserved a chance to?—
"Chief Sawyer, right?"
A woman materialized beside his booth, all bright smiles and designer athleisure. Early thirties, perfect highlights, phone already in her hand like it was a natural extension of her arm.
"Mind if I sit?" She didn't wait for an answer, sliding into the opposite seat. "I'm Blaire Mitchell. I was hoping to run into you."
Gabe's cop instincts pinged. Too friendly. Too eager.
He lowered his burger. "Can I help you with something, Ms. Mitchell?"
"It's Blaire." She set her phone on the table, screen-down but positioned like she could grab it quickly. "I'm actually in town visiting an old friend and thought I should introduce myself to the new police chief. You know, just to be neighborly."
