Page 69 of Obscurity
White tents had been set up there—a whole army of them.
There were too many for that to be where the staff was staying. And if it wasn’t from this angle and her second-story position, she would have never seen those tents.
She stepped closer.
It was more than just tents.
There were two other buildings over there. They’d been painted an olive-green color and nearly blended in with the trees.
What in the world was going on here?
Making her way carefully toward the stairs, Olive paused at the top to listen for voices from below. The house seemed quiet, but she could see light coming from what appeared to be a living room area.
She descended slowly, testing each step to avoid creaking. Her shoes were graciously silent on the hardwood.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, voices became audible from the front room.
Two men were engaged in what sounded like a heated discussion.
Moving carefully toward the kitchen and her planned exit route, Olive paused when she recognized one of the voices. Max—the muscle-bound security guard with the aggressive attitude and expensive hiking boots.
“I’m telling you, the timeline’s too aggressive.” Max’s voice carried the frustrated tone of someone arguing a losing battle. “We’re not ready for Phase Three.”
“Orders came from the top,” replied another voice—one Olive didn’t immediately recognize. “The parameters have to be maintained regardless of readiness levels.”
Olive crept closer to the living room entrance, hoping to get a better view of who Max was talking to and to hear more of their conversation. The hallway provided some cover, allowing her to position herself where she could see into the room without being immediately visible.
Max stood with his back to her, his bulky frame tense with agitation. Across from him sat a thin man in his fifties with silver hair and an expensive suit—definitely not festival staff. He looked like government or corporate management, someone who made decisions from behind a desk rather than implementing them in the field.
“I don’t know how you think this is going to work,” Max continued. “People are asking questions. They want to leave.”
“We need to keep them here,” the silver-haired man replied dismissively. “Do whatever it takes.”
Olive leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better angle to photograph the unknown man.
If he was running this operation, his identity could be crucial evidence.
But as she shifted her weight, the old floorboard beneath her feet let out a loud creak.
CHAPTER 46
Both men stopped talking immediately.
“What was that?” the silver-haired man snapped.
Max was already moving toward the hallway, his hand reaching for something at his belt—probably a weapon. “Sounded like it came from the stairs.”
Olive’s mind raced through her options.
The back door was still her best exit route, but reaching it required crossing Max’s line of sight.
The front door was closer but would put her in direct view of both men.
And hiding was no longer an option—they were actively searching for the source of the noise.
“Check upstairs,” the silver-haired man ordered. “I’ll search down here.”
As Max’s heavy footsteps headed toward the staircase, Olive realized she had seconds to make her move before the hallway became a trap with no escape routes.
