Page 63 of Craving
“The cake. The Goodhew cake.” Her hand moved to her mouth.
“What about it?”
“It’s ruined. Oh!” She flinched. “He wrecked it. The wedding is tomorrow. What am I going to do? Why—” She flipped the phone over and covered her face.
Panic clawed at Marlon. He was powerless. Useless. “Who is it? Do you recognize him?”
After a long moment, Camilla turned the phone over and watched the video again. She shook her head. “I didn’t get a clear view, but I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
“Okay.” His phone rang, and he answered it through the car’s Bluetooth. “Yeah?”
“Perp ran when he heard the cops’ sirens. Chatter says he got away.”
“Why the hell did they have their sirens on in the first place?”
“Festival traffic, probably. Downtown’s a mess.”
Marlon had to slow when they hit another knot of traffic, and he resisted the urge to rip the steering wheel off. “Okay. We’ll be there in five.”
“Copy.”
The call ended. Beside him, Camilla was stone-still, staring out the windshield with a blank look on her face.
Marlon felt like he was being slowly fed through a paper shredder, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He needed to fix this. Needed to stop this from ever happening again. “Can you think of anything that might help, Camilla? Sweetheart? Someone acting strange? Any customers give you a bad feeling? Anything?”
Camilla let out a sigh, her breath sounding thin and reedy. She gulped and shook her head. “No.”
It sounded like a lie.
Marlon frowned.
They pulled up outside her bakery, the police cruiser’s blue-and-red lights reflecting in the front windows. Camilla stepped out of the car as Marlon jogged around to join her on the sidewalk.
“St. James,” Vick said, nodding to him, then glanced at Camilla. “Ms. Fox, will you follow me inside, please?”
“Of course.” Camilla glanced at Marlon, but he couldn’t read her expression. Had she lied? Was she hiding something from him? But…why?
She followed the police officer, and Marlon went to talk to Vick’s partner. He needed to figure out what was going on, and fast.
They’d spent four weeks together now, and life had been bliss. But what if none of that was true? What if he’d opened his home, his life, his heart to her…and none of it was real?
Had he been a fool to fall for her?
Camilla stared at the smashed wedding cake on the floor and felt tears gather behind her lids. The back of her throat felt hot and tight, and she couldn’t make out a word of what the police officers were saying. She was grateful Marlon had come with her because her mind was utterly blank.
All she could do was look at the cake and watch her future slip through her fingers.
Fred Goodhew had sent the payment today, but he would want a refund immediately. So she’d have to choose between his wrath—and the damage to her reputation for ruining the Goodhew wedding—or the wrath of Frankie Smith. She could only pay one of them. Either way, Camilla would lose her business—lose everything.
The banging of the back door made Camilla jerk up, and she realized the cops had left. A blast of cool air blew over her skin, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“Let’s get this cleaned up, and then I’ll take you home, okay?” Marlon came closer and brushed his fingers over her arm.
Suddenly, Camilla straightened. She frowned at Marlon, then at the cake. “No,” she blurted. “I can’t go home. I have to make the cake again. The wedding is tomorrow.”
“Camilla, it isn’t safe. What if he comes back? Until we know why someone is targeting your business, the priority is to keep you safe. You should shut the bakery down until we have this figured out.” He frowned at her, eyes intent. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”
Her heart hammered. There were a lot of things she wasn’t telling him. But—