“Becca,” Matt said.
“Travis knew it,” I said as it dawned on me. My voice came out flat. The way it got when I was processing something I didn’t want to be true. “I never changed it.”
Matt’s expression didn’t change. That was somehow worse than if it had. “Okay,” he said. Just okay. Nothing else.
I thought about the night by the river. The figure with his arms crossed, weight shifted back, the posture I’d seen a thousand times. The thought I’d pushed away before I could finish it. I thought about Travis at Holloway’s.How are things by the river?Said twice. Casually. Like small talk. I hadn’t told him I’d seen anything by the river. I hadn’t told anyone except the podcast. The podcast that had been live for four minutes before I deleted it. The podcast that was gone from my laptop the next morning.
“Matt,” I said.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m working on it. Don’t say anything to him. Avoid him.”
“You think this is all connected? Am I being paranoid?”
“No. Always trust your gut. Always err on the side of caution. Never hesitate to tell me anything.”
“Thanks, Matt.”
He nodded once, then looked past me toward the store. Elizabeth moved behind the counter, coffee already made, two cups set out. She glanced between us, reading the room the way she always did, quickly and accurately. She didn’t say anything yet.
“Aunt Donna’s on a bathroom break,” she said, sliding takeout coffee cups across the counter. “So you’ve got a few minutes.” She looked at Matt, then at me, then back at Matt. “I’m guessing you’ll want this.”
Matt accepted the coffee without comment. Something in his expression acknowledged the efficiency of it without making a thing of it. “Thanks,” he said. She nodded once and moved to thefar end of the counter, busying herself with the coffee machine in a way that made clear she was giving us space while remaining exactly where she could see everything.
“Elizabeth,” Matt said. “Do you have exterior security cameras on this lot?”
She set down the coffee pot. “One. Mounted above the entrance, covers most of the parking area.” She glanced between us. “You need the footage?”
“If you can get it, yes.”
“I don’t have direct access. It runs through the security company.” She was already moving toward the counter, pulling her phone out. “But I can email them right now and have them send it over. Shouldn’t take long if I tell them it’s a police matter.”
Matt’s expression didn’t change, but something in it settled. “I’d appreciate that.”
“Consider it done.” She looked at me briefly, with sympathetic understanding, then stepped away, toward the back room, and put the phone to her ear.
Matt watched her go, then turned back to me, lowering his voice. “I’m talking to Levi tonight,” I said before he could speak. “I’m going to tell him everything.”
His expression softened just a fraction. “Good. I’ll feel better if he’s aware.” He glanced once more toward the road, jaw working slightly. “You’re not driving yourself home,” he said. It wasn’t controlling. It was practical.
“My car’s fine,” I said.
“I know.” His gaze flicked toward the road and back. “Still, humor me.”
I hesitated, then nodded.
Elizabeth came back, phone call done, and leaned her hip against the counter with her arms folded. She looked at me for a long moment. “So,” she said. “I’m not asking questions.”
“Elizabeth—”
“I’m not,” she said again, pleasantly. “But I do expect a full, extremely informative explanation at some point in the very near future.” She pointed a finger at me. “And if this turns into some kind of dramatic small-town scandal, or epic woman-in-jeopardy scenario, I want first-round drinks at Holloway’s where we can go over it in explicit detail.”
“There is no scandal,” I said.
“Yet?” she replied calmly.
Matt’s lips twitched as he fought a smile.
Elizabeth softened just a fraction and stepped closer, squeezing my arm. “Leave the car tonight. It’s in view of the cameras, and I’ll be here until late. If anything looks weird, I’ll call. Or I’ll hit it with a broom. Either works.”
