“They do,” I said.

My voice felt stronger now.

I held the phone up so they could see the glowing screen, though I kept it out of their reach.

“They figured out the recipe,” I said. “They know about the cabin. They know about you, Harris.”

Harris’s face went from angry to pale in a second.

“What do you mean they know about me?” he asked.

“I put your badge number in the prep time,” I said. “And the county name in the crust instructions.”

Harris turned to Julian, his hands shaking.

“You said she was locked in,” Harris hissed. “You said she couldn’t get a signal in here.”

“She shouldn’t have,” Julian said, his eyes darting to the ceiling. “The repeater is off. The main router is disabled.”

“Well, she did,” Harris said.

He stepped out of the pantry and looked at the kitchen counter.

“The gun,” Harris said suddenly.

He remembered.

I watched him turn his head toward the counter next to the pantry door.

The black metal of the semi-automatic pistol was resting right next to a canister of flour.