The rain had just stopped when Liam saw the car again.

It was parked in the same spot across the street from Navarro Coffee—black, silent, engine off. Its tinted windows reflected the soft gray of the morning sky. He always saw it from a distance, and today, the sight made something twist in his gut.

He slowed his pace, pulling his sketch case tighter against his shoulder. A coincidence, he told himself. Except coincidences don’t stare back.

A man stepped out of the car, phone to his ear, ...