Page 121 of No White Knight


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I go still.

Wearing black with ski masks.

That sounds too familiar.

But I keep my mouth shut, letting Fel talk. Blake and Holt walk by, heads together and deep in conversation. I catch Holt’s eye.

He slows, lifting his head, glancing toward my friend.

“Most of them just seemed ordinary, but the one in charge, or at least I think he was…he was big,” Felicity says. “Real huge. This brick of a build, even had a square head.”

I stare at Holt.

Jesus. I don’t want to say anything out loud here, but…

Who the hell do we know that’s built like a tank and prone to violence?

He’s giving me the same look.

Declan Eckhard.

But why would he target Felicity to get at me?

Or was it not about me at all, and he was just looking for another way to get some dirty cash?

If those other truckers were getting impatient, ready to kick his ass…he could’ve muscled them into helping with a break-in. Felicity wouldn’t have had a fortune in the register, but probably a couple thousand or so after a solid day’s work.

All gone now.

Along with the hellish amount of work she put into keeping this place afloat, from fundraisers to bake sales to anything and everything else she could ever think of.

It makes me so stinkin’ mad.

When I find that prick, I’m gonna make him eat a mouthful of my fist as an appetizer for the teeth I’ll shove down his throat.

I just hang on to Fel while she gives Langley a few more details.

I can’t help but notice how tense she gets when Langley looks at her again.

“Can you think of anyone who might’ve had a motive to do this, instead of just a crime of greed or opportunity?” Langley asks.

Remember how I said Felicity never gets shaken by anything?

She looks pretty damn shook right now.

It’s just for a second.

Her face goes blank, her eyes dull.

Hugging her is like hugging a steel mannequin.

Then she just shrugs it off like nothing and smiles, tucking her hair back again. “Unless I ever served a cup of coffee that bad, no, not really.”

Langley gives a little chuckle, scribbling something else down in his notepad, then flips it closed and tucks it in his breast pocket.

“All right then,” he says. “I’ll get some police tape up to cordon this place off, and in the morning we’ll take some photos once we’ve got better light. You gonna want them for insurance purposes?”

“Yes, please.” Felicity flashes him a grateful smile. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“Not tonight.” He shakes his head, hooking his thumbs in his belt and hitching it up a little. “You should go on home, get some rest. If you don’t feel safe, call a friend. If you remember anything else, you know how to reach me.”

“Only one who ever answers 9-1-1,” Felicity teases, earning another laugh—more of a guffaw—from him.

She’s the only girl I know who could keep laughing in a situation like this.

Langley shakes her hand, then drops into the driver’s seat of his patrol car, immediately picking up the radio on the dash and muttering into it.

I let out a long sigh.

Our town’s so small we don’t even have a proper dispatch officer. But we sure do have our fair share of trouble.

I look up at Felicity. She’s looking over my head, her eyes misty as she stares at the wreckage of her coffee shop.

“Hey,” I say, bumping my head against her shoulder. “You okay? You want to scream? Break something?”

“Nothing left to break,” she says wryly. “Looks like they got it all.”

“Rat bastards,” I hiss. “I don’t know how you can be so calm.”

“I guess because getting angry won’t undo it,” she says.

“No, but getting angry feels real good sometimes.” I search her face. “You really don’t have a clue who did this?”

There’s a pause, giving something away, before she shakes her head. “Nah. Probably some assholes joyriding through town, thinking I’d be easy pickings.”

Assholes joyriding through town don’t come prepared with ski masks and crowbars, though—but I keep that part to myself.

I can’t help watching her, wondering what she’s not saying.

“You sure?” I ask. “You went kinda funny back there. Is something up, Fel?”

She gives me a strange look, like she has no idea what I’m talking about—but then looks past me and arches a brow. “Your boyfriend’s looking at you.”

I actually flinch. More out of surprise than anything else, hearing it out loud.

Boyfriend.

Holy crap.

I know what we are, technically. I just feel like the town’s latest soap opera after that dramatic scene with Sally Jenkins. Now everyone’s waiting for the drama that’ll break us up.

I look over my shoulder.

I can’t help it.

I know Felicity’s diverting me like she always does. She doesn’t let people get past the surface.

But bring up Holt, and it’s second nature to look.

He’s standing under the café’s outside canopy in one of the few areas that isn’t covered with broken glass.

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