Page 26 of Smoldering Nights
Noah emerged from the building, holding what looked like a plastic tote in both hands.Not flowers.No logo.He carried it like it had weight.He opened the back of the SUV, stashed the container inside, and exchanged a few words with the driver, a man Mitch couldn’t identify in the dark.They didn’t shake hands.No smiles.Strictly business.
Mitch reached for his phone and sent a silent text to Jayson.
Noah just transferred something from Delilah’s to a gray SUV.No visible tags.Getting footage.
Then another photo, zoomed in.Fuzzy, but legible enough.
A second tote appeared.Another quiet exchange.Then both men climbed into their respective vehicles.The SUV turned out first, heading east on Main Street.Mitch slid down in his seat as the SUV passed his parking spot near the Craft Mall.The SUV then turned left onto Hospital Road and a quick right on First Street, before disappearing into the night.
Noah lingered.
That’s when Mitch saw it.
Noah stepped back toward the door, unlocked it, and went inside.
Why go back in?And he had a key?
Mitch’s instincts kicked in harder now.He watched, waited, and prepared to follow if needed.He’d already memorized multiple exit routes, and the tiny camera suctioned to his dash was recording every frame.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
Finally, Noah reappeared, locking the door behind him.He glanced up and down the alley, once, twice, then he looked down Main Street before he climbed into his truck and pulled out, heading east out of town.
Mitch let a beat pass, then started his truck and followed.
Noah didn’t drive like someone being followed, steady speed, full stops, no glances in the mirror.Mitch stayed back several car lengths, using side streets and a quick turn to cut through a vacant lot and meet him on the next stretch of road.
He trailed him all the way to an industrial strip just outside of Summerville.Noah pulled into a warehouse with no markings, backed into the side of a corrugated steel building, and killed the lights.He didn’t unload anything.Just sat there.
Waiting.
Another car pulled up.This one Mitch didn’t recognize, a beat-up sedan with tinted windows and a rattling muffler.
This wasn’t a floral delivery.This was a drop zone.
And Mitch had just confirmed Noah Grady was more than a delivery guy.
He picked up his phone again.
Got footage.Multiple transfers.Suspected product drop at warehouse off Route 12.I’m staying put until I ID the buyer.
He thought about Izzy again.Her smile.The way her voice wavered when she said she didn’t want to believe Noah was involved.
Neither did Mitch.For her sake.
But belief had nothing to do with facts.And tonight, the facts were stacking up in all the wrong directions.
He settled back in his seat, camera in hand.
He’d stay until he had answers.
Or until someone gave him a reason to act.
Chapter12
Izzy curled her legs beneath her on the sofa, her fingers loosely wrapped around a mug of tea she hadn’t touched in over twenty minutes.The condo was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the air conditioning kicking on.Too quiet.Too still.It only made her thoughts louder.
