Page 34 of Riptide
"Ideally? We get her on camera admitting to blackmail," Cara said. "We expose her to her followers. We destroy her reputation. And we make sure she can't come back."
Probably not going to happen, but a girl could dream. Besides, there would be other ways to incinerate Blaire Mitchell.
"And if she has backup we don't know about?" Tom asked. "If there's someone bigger behind her?"
"Then we deal with that when we find it," Cara said. "But first we take her down. One predator at a time."
She capped the marker, turned to face them. "This is going to be dangerous. We're going after someone who's very good at destroying lives. If she figures out what we're doing before we're ready, she could burn us all."
"Then we don't let her figure it out," Wade said.
"We're going to need to be perfect," Tom added. "No mistakes. No traces. Nothing that leads back to us."
"Can we do that?" Piper asked quietly.
The team looked at each other. Exhausted. Scared. But determined.
"We saved David Sawyer from corrupt cops and kidnappers," Reagan said. "We can handle one overly-made up blackmailer with an Instagram addiction."
Tom closed his laptop. "I’ll dig deeper into her files and find us a couple local victims to start with. But the bigger piece is figuring out how she decides on her targets. How did she even find Cara? Something tells me that’s going to be huge.”
Piper’s face lit up. “You’re talking about software. You think she’s got some way of zeroing in on targets like Cara.”
“Exactly.” Her father grinned at her. “It’s just a hunch, but how else could she find records that don’t match? It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Super inefficient at best, almost impossible at worst.”
Cara’s confidence rose. Ever little string helped. “Shut that down and we shut down half her income stream.”
“More, likely,” Wade added.
The team started to disperse. Piper packing up her laptop. Tom saving files and shutting down monitors. Wade collecting his surveillance equipment.
Reagan pulled Cara aside. "You okay?"
"I don't know. This is—it's bigger than I thought. More complicated. I don’t want you all in danger."
Reagan squeezed her shoulder. "Not your choice to make." Her smile widened. "Fake it till you make it, sister."
Cara laughed. She couldn’t help it. Fake it had been her mantra her entire life.
For the first time since Blaire had walked into her bakery, Cara felt like maybe—just maybe—she could win this.
Not by running. Not by hiding. Not by facing it alone.
But by trusting the family she'd found in Haven Cove.
10
Cara stoodat the top of the basement stairs at four fifty-five PM, holding two boxes of day-old pastries and a thermos of coffee she'd brewed specifically for this meeting.
If they were going to keep gathering in her basement to plan felonies, they might as well have decent snacks.
She could hear voices already—Wade's low rumble, Piper's higher pitch, Tom's occasional interjection. They'd beaten her here despite the fact that she literally lived upstairs.
The day had been long. Diane had shown up at six AM sharp, exactly as promised, with her own apron and a quiet competence that made Cara want to weep with relief. By noon, Cara had made a decision that would have been unthinkable a week ago: she offered Diane a permanent position. Full-time. Competitive salary.
"Are you sure?" Diane had asked, wiping down the espresso machine. "That's a big commitment."
"I need the help," Cara had admitted. "And you're really good at this."
