Chapter 71

• Isaac.
• The guy didn’t smell like he belonged. That was the first thing I noticed. Willow Creek had its usual blend of pine, wood smoke, and small-town boredom. But this one reeked of city sweat and something worse. He reeked of fear disguised as calm.
• I spotted him standing by the produce stand, pretending to be interested in heirloom tomatoes. Problem was, he hadn’t blinked in over thirty seconds, and his eyes kept darting toward Isabella, who was two stalls down talking to the lady who sells goat cheese.