Page 38 of Shadow

She probably didn’t need another cup of coffee, but the Beanery just pulled her in, and frankly, she probably needed something to keep her vertical after twenty-four hours of highway driving, an armed robbery, and her briefing with Asher. She still owed the officer the full statement—that had been pushed to the afternoon.

Just to get her equilibrium back.

The Beanery sat on Main Street, its dark-blue awning and picture windows catching late-morning light. She pushed through the door, the chime announcing her arrival.

Roasted coffee beans. Cinnamon. Something baking in back. Warm air after cold November wind. Yeah, she could live here.

Rich wood floors worn smooth stretched between small café tables and mismatched chairs. Local art hung on exposed brick walls. The espresso machine hissed behind the counter. Half a dozen customers were scattered around with laptops open and quiet conversations murmuring.

Daphne headed for the counter.

The barista looked up. Early twenties with pink hair and a nose ring. “Hey! What can I get you?”

“Large black coffee. Double shot.”

“You got it.” She grabbed a cup and moved to the espresso machine. Started pulling shots. “Rough morning?”

“Long morning.”

“I hear that.” She poured and set the cup on the counter. “Four-fifty.”

Daphne handed over a five. “Keep it.”

“Thanks!” The brightness cranked up another notch. “Holler if you need anything.”

Daphne grabbed her coffee and scanned the room.

Back corner near the exit with clear sight lines to both doors.

She was halfway there when the door chime rang again.

Cold air rushed in with laughter.

“—and then he wanted to ride bareback. I swear, that kid.”

Daphne glanced over.

Long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Jeans and flannel shirt over a pregnant belly. Light jacket. Her hand rested on a boy’s shoulder. Maybe ten years old, with a baseball cap on backward and sneakers worn through at the toes.

The woman looked up. She frowned, and Daphne offered a tentative smile.

Recognition flashed across her face, surprise melting into joy. “Daphne? After all these years? Seriously.”

“Sierra.” Daphne got up. Former best friend, and the one person she still kept in touch with—low-key, burner profile, nothing tied to her real name.

“Wow. I can’t believe it’s you!” Sierra closed the distance fast and pulled her into a hug before Daphne could brace herself.

Tight and genuine, the fifteen years between them vanishing. Sorta.

But still, a little.

Sierra pulled back. “What are you doing in Renegade?”

The boy tugged Sierra’s jacket. “Mom. Can I get hot chocolate?”

“Sure, Huck.” Sierra dug into her pocket and handed him cash. “Get me a vanilla latte too.”

“Okay.” He headed to the counter.