Chapter Five #2
She hesitated enough to confirm what he already suspected.
“I will be,” she said, lifting her chin. “It was weird, but it’s handled. Gabe was thorough. I took pictures, made a copy of the footage. You want to see it?”
“Not yet,” he said. “Walk me through it first. Show me where the truck pulled in.”
She angled her head toward the far edge of the nursery. “Back by the gravel lot near the delivery shed. He didn’t get far. I wouldn’t let him unload.”
“Good,” Caspian said. “Bad vibes in plastic tubs are never a good sign.” He nodded toward the nearest workers. “You two go ahead. I’m going to go talk to the crew, see if anyone caught more than weird vibes.”
Matthew nodded, then turned to follow Callie and Sammy across the gravel, her gaze scanning the area as she spoke.
“There was nothing marked,” she said. “No logo on the truck. No company tags. Said it was from a supplier in Houston, but we don’t work with anyone there. I tried to get a name. He didn’t give one and had no paperwork. That’s when I called Gabe.”
She stopped at a stretch of disturbed gravel and pointed. “He parked here. He got out and opened the back, but I shut it down as soon as I saw and smelled the bins.”
Matthew crouched, brushing a hand along the depression in the gravel. It was faint now, stones scattered no doubt from the crew, but they were there.
Sammy took advantage of his stance to rush close and lick his face.
He reached out to absently pet the dog’s head as he stood slowly. “You did everything right.”
Callie arched a brow. “Is that an official Navy SEAL evaluation?”
“Unofficial,” he said, allowing the corner of his mouth to lift. “But yeah. You kept your distance. Trusted your gut. That counts.”
She looked away, her gaze fixed on the lot. “I’m not used to gut feelings meaning much. This place is usually safe. Simple. Dirt and plants.”
Matthew’s throat tightened for half a second. “Until it’s not.”
He remembered a supply drop that looked routine too, until it blew half their op to hell. Simple wasn’t safe. Not anymore.
Her eyes flicked back to him. “That happen to you?”
He nodded once, jaw tight. “Overseas. Different context. Same rules. One bad delivery. One offhand comment. Next thing you know, everything’s under suspicion.”
And everyone.
Callie’s expression shifted, softening. “What happened?”
Matthew didn’t answer right away. He didn’t usually talk about it. Not the details. Not the fallout. But something about the way she asked made it feel less like a demand and more like an opening.
“I got cleared,” he said finally. “Eventually. But the damage was done.”
And the disillusionment remained.
“And now?”
He looked at her, really looked. “Now I pay attention to people who try to hide behind no labels. No names.”
She nodded slowly, lips pressed together. “Glad you’re here, then.”
Matthew didn’t say it, but he was glad too. And not just because of the mystery bins. He nodded toward the buildings. “Mind if I look at the footage now? We left ESI before Carter had a chance to review it.”
“Help yourself,” she said. “It’s in the office.”
They walked back toward the main building with the dog happily trotting between them.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t over. And as long as he was breathing, Callie Morgan wouldn’t be facing it on her own.
A few minutes later, after watching the feed, she sighed, and Sammy echoed it as he curled up by her feet. “I stopped him before he pulled the containers out. He looked annoyed but not surprised. Like he expected to get caught.”
Or like it didn’t matter , Matthew thought. Because the message wasn’t in the delivery, it was in the reaction.
“Guy didn’t argue,” she went on. “Didn’t ask me to sign anything. Just backed off and drove away.”
“That’s what bothers me,” Matthew said. “If it was a real screw-up, most delivery guys would scramble to cover their ass. This one didn’t even flinch.”
Callie crossed her arms, brow furrowed. “So, what does that mean?”
He looked out the window and across the lot, narrowing his eyes against the sun. “He wasn’t delivering product. He was testing your response. Seeing if this place would work.”
They stood in silence for a beat, each lost in their own thought.
Callie finally exhaled and headed for the door. Sammy immediately jumped to his feet and yawned. “Whatever this is, I don’t want it bleeding into my crew or my business.”
“It won’t,” he said, following her back outside. The words came low and sure, not a promise he tossed around lightly. “We’re going to find out who sent that truck. And why.”
She nodded once, her jaw tight. But her shoulders eased enough to let him know she believed him.
Matthew glanced toward the main building where he spotted Caspian still talking with the crew. “I want to walk the perimeter. You mind showing me how far your property line runs?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze lingered on the fence line, then flicked back to his face. A faint smile tugged at her mouth, dry and knowing. “You offering to do recon, Walker?”
He shrugged, letting enough of a grin slip through to meet hers. “Let’s call it…getting the lay of the land.”
Callie gave a short nod and turned down a side path lined with potted sage and creeping thyme. “Fair enough, but try to keep up. Some of us do this kind of work every day.”
He fell into step behind her, boots crunching in rhythm with hers as they moved along the edge of the property. The air smelled of sun-warmed earth and rosemary, and for the first time in a long while, Matthew didn’t feel like he was chasing ghosts.
He was walking a line with a woman who made the ground feel solid.
Sammy trotted ahead, nose down and tail flicking as he followed the edge of the grass as if it were his personal patrol route. He didn’t bark, but every so often he paused to sniff something longer than usual.
The farther they got from the nursery buildings, the quieter it became. Gravel gave way to packed dirt, then to scrubby patches of grass near the far fence. A few wind chimes stirred on a shepherd’s hook, the soft metallic clinks oddly soothing against the distant drone of cicadas.
Callie walked ahead of him, her ponytail swaying with each step, boots scuffing enough to kick up dust. She pointed out the key markers—property line here, drainage ditch there, an old oak stump that marked the boundary before the land sloped toward the creek.
Matthew’s gaze swept the edges as they moved, cataloging everything—shifts in terrain, possible blind spots, where someone might slip through unnoticed. The fencing back here wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t new either. A determined idiot could cut through it without breaking a sweat.
Sammy slowed near the back corner, nose twitching. He sniffed at the base of the post, then let out a low whuff before circling back to Callie’s side.
“Ever had trouble out this way?” he asked, slowing as they reached the far corner of the property.
Callie stopped beside him, her hand resting on the worn wood post. “Not like this. We’ve had a couple of petty thefts over the years.
Someone grabbed a hanging basket once. Another time, it was a few flats of pansies.
” She glanced at him, one brow lifting. “But this wasn’t some bored teenager trying to impress a girl. ”
“No,” Matthew said. “It wasn’t.”
He crouched down and brushed his fingers lightly over the ground beyond the fence. The grass was flattened in a few spots—recent, maybe from deer or a dog, maybe not. A faint scuff of black near the post caught his eye. Rubber, maybe. Boot tread or tire spin. Hard to say.
But this spot had also caught Sammy’s attention.
He angled his head, squinting at the mark. Not sharp enough for a clear print. But something or someone had been here.
He shifted slightly to one side, then pulled out his phone and took a quick wide shot. Then a few close-ups from different angles.
“You think it’s connected?” she asked, crouching next to him.
He turned his head to meet her gaze. “I think someone stood here recently. That’s enough for now.”
He rose, flicking his gaze across the surrounding terrain.
She watched him closely. “You think whoever sent that truck came through here first?”
“Could’ve. Or they could’ve scoped it out another day. If this was a test run, they’ll try again.”
“Why here, though?” Her tone sharpened. “It’s a nursery. A bunch of plants and sunburned employees. What makes us a target?”
Matthew shrugged. “Because you’re off the beaten path. Quiet. Rural. Good visibility. Easy access, not a lot of oversight.” He paused, holding her gaze. “And because someone thought you’d ignore your gut. Sign for the shipment. Let it sit until it disappeared.”
Her jaw tightened, and her gaze flared. “They picked the wrong woman.”
“Yeah.” A smiled tugged at his lips. “They certainly did.”
They stood there a second longer, silence settling between them. Not uncomfortable, just aware.
Callie turned her head, her gaze skimming across the path toward one of the landscaped showcase spots.
A wide arc of flowering ground cover and ornamental grasses flanked by a curved trellis and low stone wall.
It no doubt was meant to give customers inspiration for their own yards. A live catalog. Clean. Serene.
But something wasn’t right.
Her eyes narrowed. “That sensor light is off.”
Matthew followed her gaze to the slender pole near the stone edge, where a small motion-activated floodlight was mounted. It was turned almost completely to the side, aimed out toward the trees instead of the demo area it was meant to cover.
“It’s not solar,” she said, stepping closer, Sammy by her side. “It’s wired. We had them installed to cover the more remote corners out here.”
Matthew moved in beside her and examined the fixture. “Still operational. But someone turned it. Deliberately.”
She stared at it, hands on her hips. “That light hasn’t been touched since we put it in. I’d have seen that during watering checks.”
He knelt to examine the base. No signs of damage, no loosened hardware. Only a simple, quiet shift. Enough to create a blind spot.
“They came through here,” she said softly. “Under cover of dark. Shifted the light and slipped through.”
Matthew straightened. “They’re testing response times. Looking for weaknesses.”
She crossed her arms, jaw tight. “Then they found the wrong damn place to play games.”
Matthew didn’t smile this time. “Good. Because now we know where to watch.”