Chapter 18 #2
Mary Bustier sat near the back, her hands folded neatly in her lap, nodding along with each point I made.
Joyce Milburn chewed her bottom lip, her eyes darting to the exits.
Ava watched, her camera bag propped beside her chair.
As a tourist in town, she hadn’t been invited; but she’d arrived with the other two women.
Maybe they were just friends.
Or maybe they were allies in a plot to steal luminooks.
“Additionally, we’re implementing an enhanced check-in system for all staff and visitors.
” I advanced to the next slide showing the new badges and verification process.
“Each employee will receive an updated ID card with encoded security features. These must be worn at all times while on the property.”
As I continued outlining the new procedures, I found my gaze returning repeatedly to Riley.
She fit so naturally into this setting, offering nods of encouragement when my gaze met hers, and asking insightful questions that helped clarify points for others.
The community had already begun to accept her as one of their own and as my mate, though we hadn’t made any public declarations.
Jessi had saved a seat beside Riley, and the two of them exchanged whispered comments. Holly had brought Riley coffee in one of the special mugs she used only for family members. Even Allie had greeted her with the traditional orc way, nudging her shoulder with her knuckles.
They recognized what I already knew with absolute certainty: Riley James belonged here.
After concluding the presentation and answering questions, I dismissed the gathering with instructions to collect new ID badges from Aunt Inla at the general store. As people filed out, Riley approached me.
“Well done,” she said. “Thorough but not alarming.”
“Thank you.” I resisted the urge to pull her close. Everything in me wanted to claim her openly. “Did you notice anything suspicious?”
“Joyce seemed nervous. Mary was a little too agreeable. But nothing definitive.” She glanced toward where Ava was looping her camera bag strap over her shoulder and filing out with the other women. “I’ll follow Mary after this. You should talk to Ava about her blog.”
I nodded. “Meet me back at the office after?”
“Perfect.” She squeezed my arm briefly before slipping away.
I approached Ava. “Do you have a moment?”
“Sheriff.” Her face brightened. “Of course. That was an excellent presentation. So well-organized.”
“Thank you.” I gestured to her camera. “I’ve been meaning to ask about your work. I understand you maintain a blog about your wildlife photography.”
“Oh yes, I do. That’s actually why I came to Lonesome Creek. The opportunity to photograph orc creatures in their new habitat is unprecedented. Scientists are fascinated by how they’re adapting to surface conditions.”
Her genuine excitement didn’t fit with someone eager to exploit our creatures.
“What drew you to luminooks in particular?” I asked.
“Their bioluminescence is unique in the natural world.” She pulled out her tablet, swiping to show me close-up images of glowing luminook spines.
“Each pattern is like a language, a form of communication we’re only beginning to understand.
I’m documenting their behavior shifts as they acclimate to surface light cycles. ”
The images appeared respectful, captured from observation areas without disturbing the creatures. Her explanations matched what legitimate researchers would focus on.
“Your photos are remarkable,” I said. “Have you noticed any unusual behavior among the luminooks recently?”
“They’ve been more vocal at night,” she said, frowning. “More agitated. I assumed it was seasonal changes affecting them, but maybe there’s something else going on?”
Her question seemed genuine, her concern authentic. Either she was a great actress, or Ava might not be involved.
After answering a few more of her questions about luminook habits, I excused myself, making a mental note to cross-reference her blog posts with the times of known disturbances. Something still felt off, but I couldn’t pinpoint what.
Near the exit, Aunt Inla snagged my attention, her silver-streaked hair tucked beneath her customary bonnet. “There you are, nephew.”
“Yes, here I am.”
She latched onto my arm and drew me to a quiet corner, where she fixed me with the penetrating stare that had intimidated me since childhood. “When do you plan to perform the formal mating ritual with Riley?”
Heat crawled up my neck. “I licked her palms already.”
“She does not display her own mark.”
I’d noted that.
“You care for her.”
“I do, but it’s complicated.” I shifted my weight, resisting the urge to straighten the already-perfect alignment of chairs beside us. “Riley’s been through a lot. I don’t want to pressure her.”
“Hmph. When an orc finds his mate, he claims her. There’s nothing else to it.”
“She’s human, not orc.”
“So I’ve seen, but look at your brothers’ mates. They had no problem claiming them.”
Yet they had. None had slipped seamlessly into a relationship, and that was expected when two differing species came together.
“I’m sure things will work out as they should,” I said, watching as Joyce slipped out the back door, not the front like everyone else.
I needed to follow her.
“Thanks for the advice,” I said, scooting away from my aunt, ignoring her calling out that she had more to say.
I caught up with Joyce as she rounded the back of the Function Hall, her pace brisk but not quite hurried enough to seem suspicious to a casual observer. To my trained eye, however, the tension in her shoulders and the way she kept glancing around told me everything I needed to know.
I stayed back, using the skills I’d perfected through years of tracking within the orc kingdom. Our ancestors had been hunters long before we became builders and traders. I kept to the shadows, my footsteps matching the rhythm of the breeze through the grass so they’d be indistinguishable.
Joyce stopped near the edge of town where the maintained grounds gave way to wild prairie grass. She pulled out her phone, looked around once more, then dialed.
I positioned myself behind the maintenance shed, close enough to hear but not be seen.
From this angle, I could observe her without risking detection.
Her posture changed as soon as the call connected, her spine straightening, her voice dropping to a more professional register than I’d ever heard her use in the saloon.
“It’s me,” she said. “Yes, everything’s proceeding as planned.” She listened for a moment, turning away from town to face the mountains. “Tomorrow night is our best window. But we need to act now.”
She ended the call and strode toward the center of town.