Page 73 of Craving

Fred loomed above him, eyes like thunder. “The police on the way, St. James?”

Marlon glanced at the two security guards, who nodded. “Yes. It’s under control, Mr. Goodhew. You and your guests should go back and enjoy the rest of your day.”

Fred held the thief’s gaze for a long moment, then swung around to face Marlon. A heavy hand landed on Marlon’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Good work, son,” he said, then turned to his butler.

Percival unlocked the case to show Fred the cake topper. After a thorough check, Fred placed it back into its protective case and locked it up. Percival clutched the case to his chest, nodding to Cormac and Luke. Fred herded the crowd back toward the reception hall, and in the distance, the music started up again. Marlon followed the security team to their office, where they waited for the police to arrive.

Just like that, the crowd was dispersed, the wedding was back in full swing, and disaster had been averted. Marlon let out a breath.

While they were waiting for the cops, Marlon sat on the edge of the desk and watched the thief. “What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” he spat.

Anger rose inside Marlon’s throat, hot and acrid. “You break Camilla’s windows too? The ovens?”

For a moment, confusion flitted over the man’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“At the bakery. Are you the one who broke her windows?”

“Are you stupid? Why would I break the windows? I was checking the bakery out that day because I heard the Goodhews were going to hire her for their wedding cake. The last thing I would do is vandalize the place while I’m trying to case it.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “What kind of amateur do you think I am?”

Marlon crossed his arms, humming. If he hadn’t broken the windows, who had? He nodded to the security guards and stepped out of the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Camilla’s number, but there was no response. He tried her once more then settled for a text outlining what had just happened.

She’d be glad to know they’d discovered who had broken in. Hopefully she’d be able to sleep easier tonight knowing her bakery wasn’t being targeted.

But while he stared at his screen for a few moments, the little blue ticks that told him the message was read never lit up. He sighed and put his phone away, glancing up in time to see a police cruiser stop outside the lobby doors.

Vick arched a brow when he saw Marlon waiting. “You always seem to be where the action is, St. James,” he said, then shook Marlon’s hand.

By the time they’d interviewed Marlon and everyone else involved, then taken the thief away, night had fallen. The wedding had wound down, though the guests had been abuzz with the excitement and gossip that followed the cake cutting.

Marlon found Cormac eating dinner in the kitchen, a plate cobbled together from the caterers’ leftovers. Cormac lifted his chin, then dipped his head toward the food.

Marlon grunted, suddenly realizing he was starving. He glanced at his phone for the thousandth time, but there was still no word from Camilla. By then, it had been hours. She must’ve been asleep; otherwise, she would’ve replied, even if she was still angry with him. Right?

Unless she was angrier than he’d anticipated? Unless there was no hope of her ever accepting his apology?

“So he’s the one who broke into the bakery last night?” Cormac asked, biting into a chicken leg.

Marlon nodded. “Yeah. He thought the topper was being kept there.”

“Not a very bright assumption.”

“Nope.”

“He break in the first time, too? The office?”

“Yeah. Trying to find a safe.” The police had got that out of him within a couple of minutes.

“Did he do the window?”

Marlon shook his head, frowning. “No.”

“Probably just some kids.” Cormac wiped his fingers on a napkin.

Marlon chewed his food, mulling over the problem. It probably was just some kids causing trouble, but he didn’t like it. He checked his phone again, thinking he felt it vibrate, but the screen was blank. Camilla still hadn’t read the message.

Then Marlon remembered the other reason he’d been so angry the night before: He was sure she’d been hiding something from him. Was that true? Why wasn’t she answering?

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