Page 37 of Protector of Talon Mountain

“Doesn’t matter. She’s being watched.” He sets the logbook down and leans forward, elbows braced on his knees. “If it’s this Adam guy—or whoever he’s working for—they’re trying to send a message. Proximity’s deliberate.”

I pace to the window, arms crossed, watching the dark curl of mist off the pines beyond town. “They’re getting too close. First the notes. Then the print behind her place. Now surveillance gaps that line up to the minute.”

“You think she’s in the center,” Caleb says, not asking.

“I know she is.” I turn back, tone flat. “And if they keep circling, it will not be a warning next time. It’s going to be a test. See how far they can push before I push back.”

Caleb doesn’t blink. “Then you better be ready to break something when they do.”

He means it. And I already am.

I grab my phone, pull up the feed from the backup camera I installed across from Sadie’s back fence—discreet, hidden under a gutted power box. This one stayed online the night the others blacked out. And sure enough, there’s a flicker of movement just before the time stamps disappear. A green blur. A vehicle.

“Green truck,” I say, showing him the footage. “Adam or someone driving for him. Circles once, then gone.”

Caleb’s voice is low, but sharp. “This has the feel of someone establishing dominance. Not an attack—yet. But close.”

“He left a mark on her wrist,” I say. “That was the first move. That was personal.”

“And the last one he’s going to get.”

We lock eyes. It’s not a threat. It’s a statement. Caleb nods once, then picks up the burner phones. “I’ll take these back to my place. See if I can pull anything from the logs. Most guys who think they’re smart still forget Bluetooth syncs and cached text. I’ll gut ’em and call you in twenty-four.”

“You good staying in the trees?”

“I was born in the trees,” he mutters.

And with that, he’s gone—silent as ever, leaving nothing behind but tension and the sharp bite of cold air through the open door. I close it behind him, lock it, then grab my coat and gun. If Sadie’s in the crosshairs, then I’m going hunting.

And I’m not coming back empty-handed.

* * *

The next morning, I don’t give myself time to think or to stew. I take the stairs two at a time, give Sadie a quick kiss, throw on my jacket, and head straight for Hal Burton’s office before I can talk myself out of it.

The mayor’s building sits just off Main, tucked between the post office and an antique shop that only opens for four hours a day and never on Tuesdays. No one’s in the lobby, but I hear voices drifting from Hal’s office. I don’t knock. He ends the speaker call and looks up fast when I push the door open. His expression shifts from annoyed to rattled in under a second, and I know I’ve already got him.

“Sheriff,” he says, trying for breezy. “You could have called.”

“And you could’ve told me the truth,” I reply, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click that sounds a hell of a lot louder in the tight room. I move to his desk and drop the printed copies of the encrypted GPS logs between us. Pages scatter slightly—Caleb’s markings highlighted in red, my annotations boxed in black. Hal blinks, then glances down at the pages like they might catch fire.

“What is this?” he asks, voice tight.

“You tell me.”

I stay standing. Arms crossed. Silent.

Hal wets his lips. His hands go to the papers, but he doesn’t touch them. Just stares. “Look, Zeke, you know I hired you, and I’ve got your back… I’ve got the whole town’s best interest in mind…”

I cut him off. “Spare me the politics. You knew someone was using Glacier Hollow as a transit point. You took money. I’m betting under the table. And I’m betting you didn’t ask too many questions about where it came from or what they were moving through that trail.”

Hal flinches. Just a hair. Then the crack widens.

“I thought it was just smuggling,” he says. “Backwoods crap. Cigarettes, maybe liquor. Nothing major. I didn’t ask for details.”

“You didn’t ask because you didn’t want to know. That’s not the same thing.”

He sinks back into his chair like I just punched him in the gut. “They came to me during the budget freeze last winter. Said they’d help fund emergency road repair for keeping my eyes off some old trails. That’s it. Said it was just short-term. Just ‘off-the-grid’ logistics.”

---