Page 117 of Mountain Daddy

That's when I see it.

A flash of metal embedded in a tree trunk just off the path. Right at eye level.

I stop. “Chleo, tie your shoe.”

“But it's not?—”

“Tie it,” I repeat, voice firm.

He kneels, confused but obedient. While he's distracted, I step to the tree. Examine what I already know I'll find.

A hunting knife. Buried two inches deep in the wood. A scrap of paper pinned beneath it. Three words scrawled in black ink.

We see you.

I pull the knife free. Fold the paper. Slip both into my pocket before Chleo looks up.

“All done!” he announces.

“Good job,” I say, voice steady despite the rage building inside me. “Race you to the car?”

His face lights up at the challenge. He takes off running, and I follow close behind. Let him win by half a step.

“I beat you!” he crows, bouncing on his toes beside my SUV.

“You did,” I agree, unlocking the doors. “You're fast.”

I scan the area one last time as I help him into his booster seat. No movement. No watchers. But I know they're there. Know they're waiting.

“Did you have fun?” I ask as I start the engine.

“Yeah!” he grins, all teeth and innocence. “Can we come back tomorrow?”

“We'll see,” I say, noncommittal. Knowing we might not be here tomorrow. Might be running by then.

I drive slowly down the mountain road. Careful. Checking the mirrors every few seconds for tails.

Chleo chatters on.

I make the right noises. Ask the right questions. Play the role of engaged father while my mind races.

The knife in my pocket feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. The note burns against my thigh.

We see you.

Not a threat.

A statement.

A fact.

They've found us. Tracked us to the cabin. Been watching long enough to know our routines. Our weak spots.

My grip tightens on the wheel. The past, it seems, is finally here.

27

LILLY

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