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When we walked into Amy May’s Bakery, she was standing behind the counter, looking much better than she had in weeks.

“Hey, you look like you’re feeling better,” I said as I stepped up to the delicious display.

Amy May rubbed her belly absently and smiled.

“Yes, thank goodness, I think the morning sickness has finally passed. How are you two doing? Did anything good come from the towing place?” she asked.

“Holy crap, it’s been such a crazy twenty-four hours, that I didn’t even tell you,” I said, slapping myself on the forehead. “Cade’s back.”

“What? That’s great,” she replied, clapping her hands together. “Tell me everything.”

“Let’s grab some cupcakes and head to your office,” I suggested, and Carmen seconded.

Before we could do just that, the door jingled as it opened and we all turned.

Bea stood at the entrance, tapping her foot and glaring at me.

Shit, I’m in trouble.

“HEY, BEA,” I said brightly, thinking she looked like a cute, angry little pixie in her police uniform.

Probably not the right time to say that, though . . .

“I like your haircut,” I said instead, but she still glared.

“One thing,” Bea chided. “I asked you for one thing, and you couldn’t do it.”

“Now, Bea,” I started, trying to back up as she stalked toward me, but my back hit the display. “How about we grab some cupcakes and go talk . . .”

“You can shove your cupcake up your . . .”

“Hey,” Amy May interrupted, trying to stop us before things got ugly. “Let’s not say something we’ll regret.”

Bea turned her glare on Amy May and asked, “Really, Amy May, you really have something to say right now?”

Amy May snapped her mouth shut, probably thinking about how she’d blown up at Bea and Carmen a few weeks ago.

Carmen remained uncharacteristically silent.

She was probably afraid of Bea, who now resembled a supremely pissed off pixie.

“Let’s go in the back and I’ll explain everything, okay?” I asked, looking meaningfully around the bakery and hoping Bea would get what I was saying.

Bea nodded sharply, and we all headed into the back.

Amy May, queen that she was, grabbed some cupcakes and followed.

Once we were in Amy May’s office, Amy May, Carmen, and I took a seat, while Bea remained standing.

“How about you start about the time you told me you’d trust me to handle things and go from there.”

Yikes.

I cleared my throat, dug deep for my courage, and told her everything.

She already knew about the accident and what Junior had shown me, but I recapped that, and went on to tell her about going back in search of Scam. Then about us missing the pickup, about Bubba being taken. About Amy May getting the address of the tow truck.

Amy May received a Bea glare for that.

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