Chapter 1 — “If the Tracker Is Active, It Was Never in Her Bag”
Maya was searching through her black bag inside Harrison’s Bakery when employee Ryan suddenly stepped in front of her.
“What exactly are you looking for?”
Maya looked up.
“My phone charger.”
Ryan’s eyes moved toward the open bag.
“Take everything out.”
Maya stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Something disappeared from the counter.”
“And you think I took it?”
Ryan folded his arms.
“You were standing right there.”
Maya slowly zipped her bag.
“I’m not emptying my things because you decided I look suspicious.”
Ryan grabbed the bakery tablet.
“Fine.”
He opened the security footage.
The video showed the front counter earlier that morning.
Maya entered at 8:42.
She ordered coffee.
Then stood near the pastry display waiting for an employee to package several boxes.
On the far end of the counter sat a small silver case.
Ryan pointed.
“There.”
Maya frowned.
“What is that?”
“The missing item.”
“I’ve never seen it before.”
Ryan replayed the clip.
Maya stood within several feet of the case.
Then the camera angle became partially blocked when another customer walked by.
Thirty seconds later, the silver case was gone.
“It’s all on camera,” Ryan said.
Maya looked at him.
“No. What’s on camera is me buying coffee.”
At that moment, bakery owner Mr. Harrison walked in carrying a stack of inventory sheets.
He was sixty-eight.
White apron.
Reading glasses hanging from his shirt.
“Why is everyone arguing?”
Ryan immediately explained.
“The silver case is missing.”
Harrison stopped.
“Which one?”
“The Finch case.”
Harrison’s face changed.
Then he looked toward Maya.
“Did anyone actually see her take it?”
Ryan pointed toward the tablet.
“She was right beside it.”
Harrison shook his head.
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Ryan went quiet.
Harrison placed the inventory sheets on the counter.
“Activate the tracker.”
Maya frowned.
“Tracker?”
Ryan opened another app.
He selected:
F-17.
The screen flashed:
ACTIVE.
Then a location icon appeared.
Ryan stared at it.
Harrison checked the inventory sheet.
“Tracker F-17 is embedded in the silver case.”
He looked toward Maya’s bag.
Then toward the tablet.
“And the signal is forty-seven feet away.”
Ryan’s face changed.
Harrison’s voice hardened.
“If the tracker is still active…”
He pointed toward Maya.
“It was never in her bag.”
Maya slowly looked toward Ryan.
Before he could apologize, the bell above the bakery door rang.
Two figures in dark hooded raincoats stepped inside.
Both stopped when they saw Harrison.
One immediately reached into his coat.
Ryan stepped backward.
Harrison stared at them.
Then at the tracker.
The distance changed.
47 FEET.
31 FEET.
18 FEET.
The missing case was getting closer.
Harrison looked directly at the two strangers.
“Nobody leaves.”