Carter grinned. “You mean immortality or getting to start over whenever life sucks?”
“Both,” Matthew said. “Preferably with better knees.”
All three of the guys nodded in agreement.
The door swung open, and Rylee strolled in, a large white bakery box in her hands, and a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
“Delivery,” she announced. “Courtesy of Champion Bakery. The twins said to tell you it’s a peace offering for a crap week.”
Laurel laughed as Rylee set the box on the counter and popped the lid open. The scent of fresh-baked pastries wafted out—glazed twists, bear claws, raspberry danishes, and their famous cinnamon buns.
“You’re officially my favorite person today,” Laurel said, already reaching for a twist.
“They were baking before dawn,” Rylee said, sliding onto a stool and grabbing a croissant for herself. “RJ and Dean are still out on assignment, so Loni and Lori insisted I bring reinforcements.”
Laurel smiled, vaguely amused at how everyone in Harland seemed to be either married to an ESI guy, cooking for one, or investigating something alongside them. It was like a small-town version of Six Degrees of Special Forces.
Bennett, still hovering nearby, cracked a reluctant smile. “That bakery’s dangerous.”
“Dangerously good,” Tyler added, already chewing.
“You got another fact for us?” Carter prompted again.
Laurel tilted her head thoughtfully. “Bananas are technically berries, but strawberries aren’t.”
Matthew blinked. “Wait…what?”
“Botanically speaking. It’s all in the seeds and how they develop. Google it,” she said, before taking a triumphant bite of her twist.
“Next time you’re in danger,” Carter said around a mouthful of danish, “I’m gonna throw that fact at your attacker and see what happens.”
“Could work.” Matthew smirked. “They’d be too confused to attack.”
Before the laughter could settle, Rylee’s tone shifted slightly. “Hey, on my way here, I noticed a guy walking past the alley. Ballcap, hunched over, muttering something under his breath.”
Bennett straightened. “You get a good look at him?”
“Not really. He didn’t stop, but he looked…off. Like he was irritated about something. Glanced toward the building a few times.”
Carter was already reaching for the tablet. “I’ll check the alley cam. Maybe we caught him.”
Brandi, who’d returned with her design team and had been loading dishes into Laurel’s upper cabinets, turned at the mention of a man near the alley, her brows knitting.
“Could’ve been Troy,” she said, frowning. “He was let go from the framing team two weeks ago. Wasn’t thrilled about it.”
Laurel looked over. “Why was he fired?”
“Late. Sloppy. And someone caught him pocketing tools,” Brandi said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Kade told me to let him go, so I did. The guy just stared at me and walked out. Didn’t say a word.”
Kade, her husband, used to be Harland’s sheriff. Now he ran the animal shelter where Tyler volunteered.
Bennett jotted the name down. “You think he’d sabotage the place?”
Brandi didn’t answer right away. “He had that quiet anger. The kind that simmers.”
“I’ll run the footage through facial recognition,” Carter said. “If it’s him, we’ll pull more.”
Laurel clutched her mug a little tighter and tried to smile. “Someone needs to tell him this isn’t how you get a good reference.”
