The morning fog hung thick over Maplewood, muffling the usual cheerful clatter of Main Street. Hazel unlocked the café door, the brass bell jingling faintly in the damp air. Inside, the café smelled of roasted coffee and vanilla, but the usual warmth couldn't push back the chill creeping down her spine.
She set her bag down, frowning at the counter. The note from last night still burned in her mind: "Keep quiet, or you'll be next." Who would do that—and why target her?
Mia appeared from the kitchen doorway, eyes wide. "Hazel… you didn't sleep much, did you?"
"I tried," Hazel said shortly, rolling up her sleeves. "And you?"
Mia shrugged. "I kept thinking about that body in the alley. Maplewood feels… different today. Strange."
Hazel nodded. She couldn't rely entirely on the police. Someone had violated her space, sent her a warning. If she didn't act, it would only get worse.
She started with the dumpster area, inspecting it herself before the officers arrived. Broken glass, coffee grounds, the remnants of yesterday's trash—nothing that screamed clues, yet something felt off. A faint smear on the edge of the lid caught her eye. She touched it gingerly; it was dry now, dark and sticky. Blood? She wasn't sure. She made a mental note to mention it to Callum later.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the bell above the door. Hazel's stomach tightened.
Detective Callum stepped inside, coat damp from the mist, expression grave.
"You're here early," Hazel said, brushing her hands on a towel.
"I need to speak with you again," he said evenly, scanning the café. "I also want to warn you… last night wasn't random. Someone chose this dumpster—and you—deliberately."
Hazel's pulse quickened. "Do you know who?"
Callum shook his head. "Not yet. But I do know it wasn't a careless act. Whoever did this has a reason. And you might know more than you think."
Hazel opened her mouth to protest, but a soft clatter drew both their attention. A customer—a wiry man with nervous eyes—fumbled with his newspaper. "You… you might want to see this," he stammered, holding out a small notebook.
Hazel took it, flipping it open. Pages were filled with hurried, barely legible handwriting, notes about people in town, times, and locations. A name jumped out: Gerald Lacey. And beneath it, a symbol she didn't recognize—a rough circle with a jagged line through it.
Callum's eyes narrowed as he read over her shoulder. "Where did you find this?"
"Left on my doorstep this morning," Hazel said. "I—I don't know who put it there."
Callum tucked the notebook into his coat. "Good. Keep it safe. And don't show it to anyone else. It's evidence, and it could be dangerous."
Hazel's hands clenched around the counter. Dangerous. That word kept echoing in her mind.
The detective straightened. "I want to ask you something, Hazel. Did Gerald mention anything unusual recently? Meetings, disagreements, threats?y"
She shook her head. "Nothing that seemed serious. Just… small stuff. Bills, insurance policies, trivial complaints. Nothing that would make someone—"
A sudden knock at the front door made them both jump. Hazel moved to open it, heart hammering. Outside, a delivery boy held a package. No note, just a plain brown box.
Her hands trembled as she set it on the counter. Inside were a few scattered items: a coffee cup from the café, a torn page from yesterday's newspaper, and a key—small, brass, and old-fashioned.
Callum leaned closer, voice low. "Hazel… whoever's doing this knows you. They're sending messages. They want something."
Hazel's stomach dropped. "But what?"
Callum's gaze locked on hers, serious, unwavering. "That… is what we need to find out. And soon."
Hazel swallowed, feeling the weight of the investigation pressing down. The quiet café she had loved, the life she thought she controlled—it was gone. Someone had stepped into her world and turned it into a dangerous game.
And Hazel Thompson, stubborn as she was, refused to be a bystander.
She clenched her fists, determination hardening in her chest. Whoever had chosen her café as their stage, she would uncover their secrets. And she would do it before anyone else got hurt.