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knows? Maybe he was blackmailing somebody, and that was his ill-gotten gains.”
    “If that’s true, where’s the evidence he was holding over them? It’s got to be there somewhere, too.”
    “Maybe they paid him off, he gave the evidence back, and the victim stabbed him and tried to retrieve the money, too.”
    “Hang on. That sounds kind of like a leap to me. Has he ever done anything like that before that you know of?”
    “I had my suspicions, but I could never prove anything. Grant liked to keep things close to the vest, but he did act oddly from time to time. We’d be broke one minute, and then the next we’d be flush, with absolutely no explanation from him about what had changed things. Add to it a few whispered conversations I caught him having just before we had money again, and it all makes sense.”
    “Okay, we’ll keep that possibility in mind,” I said.
    We were nearly back in Timber Ridge when my sister said, “Wow. Will you look at this.”
    “I’m trying to, but I can’t tell what it is from the way you’re holding it,” I said.
    “Sorry. Pull over for one second.”
    “We’re going to be late if we take any breaks,” I explained.
    “It’s worth it. Trust me on that.”
    I did as she asked, and once I was safely parked on the side of the road, Maddy handed something to me.
    “What’s this supposed to be?” I asked as I opened the envelope she’d given me and studied what was there. I found just one thing; there was a laundry ticket inside, and the name printed on it was Clean Break.
    Did it mean that Grant had clothes ready to be picked up at Vivian’s cleaning store, or was there another, darker reason he’d tucked it into an envelope?
    “You know, there’s a chance that this might not mean anything at all,” I said as I put the ticket back in its place.
    “Or it could be something really important,” Maddy said. “Did you see what was written on the envelope?”
    I hadn’t, so I turned it over and saw that there was an odd series of numbers written on it. There were too many digits, and they were not spaced properly for it to be a telephone number. “What does it mean?”
    “I don’t know, but I don’t think there’s a chance it’s just innocent dry cleaning, do you?”
    “We’ll look into it, I promise,” I said as I started driving again.
    We were almost at the Slice, and I was suddenly in a hurry to get back to my safe haven, the pizzeria. It was a refuge for me, something Joe and I had created out of our sweat and tears. Though Maddy and I often discussed murder there, the place still managed to hold me in its warmth, as the joyous memories I’d had there far outweighed everything else.
    We pulled up in back of the Slice, and Maddy grabbed our finds as we got out of the car. We walked through the shortcut, and I glanced over at the mural painted there. Timber Ridge had done all in its power to draw folks to the promenade, and as a business owner there, I was mighty grateful for all they’d done. We were through the passageway and on our way to the blue section of buildings where the Slice was when I heard a pounding on a window nearby. Paul, our dear friend and the best baker in our part of North Carolina, was waving frantically to us from inside his shop.
    “What do you suppose is going on with him?” I asked Maddy as we hurried to meet him at his front door.
    “I don’t know, but I’ve got a hunch that we’re about to find out.”

Chapter 6
    “P aul, what’s wrong?” I asked when he met us outside. “I’m so glad that I caught you. Somebody came by here looking for you not too long ago, and I wanted to give you a heads-up before you got to the Slice,” he said.
    “Was it Rebecca Whitmore?” Maddy asked.
    “I don’t know who that is, but no, it wasn’t her,” Paul said.
    He was about to continue when Maddy interrupted. “Believe me, you can’t miss her if you ever see her. She’s slim, nearly six feet tall, kind of pretty, if you like