Chapter 8 - Somebody Entered the Diner
The break-in happened after midnight.
No one hurt.
No one present.
June called at 5:48 a.m.
“They took nothing.”
That was worse.
Cash drawer untouched.
Tablet untouched.
Alcohol locked cabinet untouched.
Someone opened storage boxes.
My old locker.
Office files.
The kitchen junk box where Ranger’s tag had been.
Sheriff Avery preserved the scene.
Federal investigators arrived.
No Hollywood clues.
Gloves meant no obvious prints.
Camera footage showed one masked person entering through a rear door using a copied key.
June changed locks every few years.
Who had access?
Employees.
Former employees.
Maintenance.
Delivery contractors.
The list was long.
Then Noah asked:
“Did they know the tag was already taken?”
Good question.
If not, they had searched for it.
That supported the idea Sloane wanted the 9174 record.
Laura moved me to a secure hotel two counties away.
This time I did not argue.
Evidence of intrusion changed risk.
June remained at the diner.
Under local patrol.
She called me that evening.
“I hate your life.”
“So do I sometimes.”
“Your brother still rich?”
“Yes.”
“Make him buy me a new back door.”
I laughed.
Then she became quiet.
“Hannah.”
“Yes?”
“Come back.”
My throat tightened.
“I’m trying.”
“No.”
She corrected herself.
“I mean when this is over.”
I closed my eyes.
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“Okay.”
For the first time, I allowed myself to imagine Cedar Falls as a future rather than cover.
