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I analyze the paperwork. "That somebody wants us looking somewhere."

His eyebrows rise. "You think it's a setup?"

"I think it's possible." The answer comes too easily, and I'm aware of that. Suspicion isn't evidence — I know that better than most. Theo studies me before he nods slowly.

"Good."

"What?"

"Most people would've already made up their minds." He returns to the files without elaborating.

The truth is simpler than he makes it sound. Making up my mind would be easier. Investigations aren't built on easy, though. They're built on facts, and facts remain frustratingly incomplete.

Sweetbell Bakery is quiet when I arrive. The front lights are on, a few chairs stacked, several trays sitting behind the counter waiting to be cleaned. The familiar scent of vanilla lingers in the air. I step inside, the bell rings overhead, and then I stop.

Juniper isn't alone.

Marissa sits at one of the tables near the window, a cup of tea resting between her hands, Juniper's ledger open nearby. The two women appear to be mid-conversation. Marissa notices me first, and a warm smile appears immediately. "Inspector."

I nod. "Marissa."

Juniper rises from her chair. Relief flashes briefly across her face, and the sight settles somewhere uncomfortable in my chest. "You're back."

I glance toward the paperwork spread across the table. "Looks like I interrupted."

"Not at all," Marissa says smoothly, her smile never wavering. "Join us." The invitation sounds polite, natural. I take the empty chair anyway.

Marissa studies me carefully — not obviously, but subtly, the way people do when they're trying not to appear curious. Juniper closes her ledger. "We were discussing insurance."

"Insurance?"

"Bakery insurance." Before she can continue, Marissa answers.

"The current policy covers operational interruptions and equipment damage." Her tone is easy, comfortable, and professional.

My gaze shifts toward her. "You handle that?"

"I oversee several business accounts." Nothing about the conversation feels unusual, which somehow makes me pay even closer attention. "Have there been any claims?" I ask.

"A few."

"Related to fraud?"

The question lands softly, yet something changes — only slightly, but it's there. Marissa's smile remains. Her eyes sharpen. Interesting.

"Why would you ask that?" she replies, the words arriving pleasantly. Almost.

"Routine question."

"Routine for an inspector?" Her tone stays calm. Juniper glances between us, confusion beginning to cross her face. Marissa sets down her cup. "Are you investigating my clients now?"

I hold her gaze. "No." The answer is true. Technically.

Marissa watches me for another moment, then smiles again, the expression returning perfectly controlled. "I was beginning to feel interrogated." The words sound playful. The atmosphere says otherwise. Tension settles quietly between us, neither of us reaching for an easy exit from the conversation.

Then Juniper steps back inside carrying a supply box — apparently she'd slipped into storage without either of us noticing. Her gaze moves between us immediately. "What's happening?"

Marissa rises before I can answer. "Nothing. We were talking." She gathers her things with the ease of someone entirely unbothered, though the efficiency of the movement tells a different story. She walks over and wraps her arms around Juniper. The hug appears perfectly normal — friendly, familiar — yet something inside me stays restless. My attention never leaves Marissa. Not for a second.