Page 20 of Matthew
It was the Taylor brothers and all their talk about their Texas hometown that had eventually nudged Matthew toward Harland after active duty. He hadn’t had a plan. No family left. Only a vague idea of wide skies and maybe a place that didn’t feel like a waystation. So far, Harland hadn’t disappointed.
“Garage still smells of grease and testosterone,” Matthew said, stepping past a tool cart with a busted drill charger and a half-eaten protein bar.
Caspian tossed him a look. “You want aromatherapy, try the bakery in the strip mall next door.”
“Maybe later,” Matthew muttered, but a corner of his mouth tugged.
For now, this place felt solid.
“So, Herb Boy has moves,” Caspian said, not even trying to be subtle.
There it was.
He was surprised the guy had waited until their job was done to tease him about last night.
Matthew didn’t take the bait.
He walked around to the back of the vehicle, popped the hatch, and grabbed his gear from the short recon job they’d just finished in the adjacent town. Easy in, easy out. Nothing high risk, but apparently not easy enough to avoid post-mission ribbing.
“Dancing, huh?” Caspian pressed, shouldering his gear. “Two-stepping with a certain nursery owner? I mean, we all thought you were too serious for rhythm, but turns out you’re full of surprises.”
Matthew slammed the hatch closed and locked it. “I have range,” he said dryly.
Caspian let out a laugh. “You sure do. That girl looked like she was trying real hard not to notice you while simultaneously setting you on fire.”
He bit back a grin but didn’t deny it. Callie had a stare sharp enough to cut through Kevlar and a smile that stuck longer than it should have. Not that he was doing anything about it.
Yet.
“Anything else you want to discuss?” he asked as they entered the hallway on the way to the locker room.
“Only that if this turns into some kind ofRomeo and Julietgarden plot, I want zero involvement.”
Before Matthew could fire back, Mac appeared and waved them into the meeting room with Gabe on his heels.
“This can’t be good,” Caspian muttered under his breath. “The sheriff cometh.”
Gabe followed Mac with his usual clipped stride, and something small glinting between his fingers. A flash drive. Matthew frowned, his body already shifting into alert mode before his boss even spoke.
“Gabe has something for Carter,” Mac informed as they stood around the table.
The sheriff nodded. “Security footage from Morgan Creek. Callie had an unmarked delivery this morning that didn’t pass the sniff test.”
Matthew stilled, the echo of her name flipping something low in his gut. “What kind of delivery?”
“Two plastic bins. No markings. No documentation.” Gabe’s expression was tight. “Driver said it came from a third-party supplier in Houston, but Callie never ordered anything. Chemical smell was strong enough to make her back off before opening them.”
Mac glanced up from his notes, brows drawing together. “You see the containers?”
“No,” Gabe replied. “Truck was gone by the time I got there. Driver took off when she called me.”
Matthew’s jaw tensed. He could picture it clearly. Callie standing in the yard of her nursery, arms crossed, trying to stay cool while every instinct in her told her something was wrong. She wouldn’t rattle easily. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t shaken now.
Caspian let out a soft whistle beside him. “She get a plate?”
“Partial,” Gabe said. “She was smart about it. Snapped a picture while he drove off. I told her I’d have Carter enhance it. Also have a copy of her camera feed. Not the best angle, but let’s see what we can pull.”
Matthew shifted, the weight of the moment settling into his shoulders. The floor felt colder beneath his boots. The last time he’d seen something like that—unmarked containers, vague paperwork—it had ended with accusations and fallout he hadn’t seen coming.
