Page 7 of Obscurity
There was no movement in the trees that pressed close against the back of the building. No other buildings where someone could be watching from cover.
The narrow mountain road stretched empty in both directions, disappearing around curves that could hide approaching vehicles but showed no signs of current traffic.
Only when she was back inside her Wagoneer and on the gravel road did she allow herself to relax.
That encounter had lasted less than ten minutes, but it had shaken her and had left her feeling off her game.
If she hadn’t had the skills she did . . . she didn’t want to think about what that man might have done.
The reality also remained that she may have blown her cover. She’d had no choice, however. Now she only prayed those men didn’t have any connection to the festival.
She backtracked to County Road 15—the same direction she’d initially come from.
But as she eased onto the road, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched.
She knew men with egos didn’t appreciate being put in their place and might want vengeance. Had one of the men from the gas station followed her?
Every time she checked her rearview mirror, an empty road stretched behind her. But the sensation of being watched persisted like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
She’d need to keep her eyes wide open.
Those men and the trouble they brought with them were a distraction she couldn’t afford. Because with every passing second, Chloe Kingston could be getting farther and farther away.
Olive prayed Chloe hadn’t encountered any men like those at the gas station.
As Olive drove toward the lodge, Miles Kingston’s voice played in her memory: “Any word? It’s been a week since we heard from Chloe. Please, tell me you’ve found something.”
The man had been calling her every day, ever since he’d hired Aegis four days ago.
The tech billionaire’s twenty-four-year-old daughter had vanished while helping to plan and set up the inaugural Grayfall Music Festival in the abandoned mining settlement of Grayfall.
Chloe had been one of the lead organizers, hired to handle logistics and artist relations for what was supposed to be an intimate weekend of underground music.
The last communication anyone had received from her was a text that made Olive’s skin crawl every time she read it.
There’s more to Grayfall than you think. The trees are watching.
The trees are watching? What did that mean?
Olive couldn’t stop asking herself that question ever since she’d seen the text.
Local authorities had insisted Chloe was an adult who’d simply decided to skip town after the stress of organizing such an ambitious event.
But Chloe’s family knew better.
Chloe wouldn’t just vanish into thin air, leaving behind her responsibilities and her entire life.
For the past three days, Olive had immersed herself in research about the Grayfall festival and everyone connected to it. What she’d discovered had only deepened her concerns about what Chloe might have stumbled into.
Grayfall was the brainchild of Brad Kellerman, a man whose entrepreneurial history read like a cautionary tale of failed ventures and questionable business practices.
His previous attempts at event management had left a trail of unpaid vendors, disappointed investors, and mysteriously canceled performances. Yet somehow, he’d managed to secure funding for an ambitious three-day festival featuring twenty fringe bands in one of the most remote locations in West Virginia.
The festival promised an authentic experience for a cozy group of five hundred music enthusiasts willing to pay premium prices—nearly five thousand dollars per ticket—for the privilegeof camping in an abandoned mining town and listening to live music.
Food vendors, craft booths, and “immersive historical experiences” were all part of the package, along with performances by bands Olive had vaguely heard of in underground music circles. The event was adult-only and promised to be unforgettable.
What made her most suspicious was the logistics.
