Page 24 of Matthew
The farther they got from the nursery buildings, the quieter it became. Gravel gave way to packed dirt, then to scrubbypatches of grass near the far fence. A few wind chimes stirred on a shepherd’s hook, the soft metallic clinks oddly soothing against the distant drone of cicadas.
Callie walked ahead of him, her ponytail swaying with each step, boots scuffing enough to kick up dust. She pointed out the key markers—property line here, drainage ditch there, an old oak stump that marked the boundary before the land sloped toward the creek.
Matthew’s gaze swept the edges as they moved, cataloging everything—shifts in terrain, possible blind spots, where someone might slip through unnoticed. The fencing back here wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t new either. A determined idiot could cut through it without breaking a sweat.
Sammy slowed near the back corner, nose twitching. He sniffed at the base of the post, then let out a low whuff before circling back to Callie’s side.
“Ever had trouble out this way?” he asked, slowing as they reached the far corner of the property.
Callie stopped beside him, her hand resting on the worn wood post. “Not like this. We’ve had a couple of petty thefts over the years. Someone grabbed a hanging basket once. Another time, it was a few flats of pansies.” She glanced at him, one brow lifting. “But this wasn’t some bored teenager trying to impress a girl.”
“No,” Matthew said. “It wasn’t.”
He crouched down and brushed his fingers lightly over the ground beyond the fence. The grass was flattened in a few spots—recent, maybe from deer or a dog, maybe not. A faint scuff of black near the post caught his eye. Rubber, maybe. Boot tread or tire spin. Hard to say.
But this spot had also caught Sammy’s attention.
He angled his head, squinting at the mark. Not sharp enough for a clear print. But something or someone had been here.
He shifted slightly to one side, then pulled out his phone and took a quick wide shot. Then a few close-ups from different angles.
“You think it’s connected?” she asked, crouching next to him.
He turned his head to meet her gaze. “I think someone stood here recently. That’s enough for now.”
He rose, flicking his gaze across the surrounding terrain.
She watched him closely. “You think whoever sent that truck came through here first?”
“Could’ve. Or they could’ve scoped it out another day. If this was a test run, they’ll try again.”
“Why here, though?” Her tone sharpened. “It’s a nursery. A bunch of plants and sunburned employees. What makes us a target?”
Matthew shrugged. “Because you’re off the beaten path. Quiet. Rural. Good visibility. Easy access, not a lot of oversight.” He paused, holding her gaze. “And because someone thought you’d ignore your gut. Sign for the shipment. Let it sit until it disappeared.”
Her jaw tightened, and her gaze flared. “They picked the wrong woman.”
“Yeah.” A smiled tugged at his lips. “They certainly did.”
They stood there a second longer, silence settling between them. Not uncomfortable, just aware.
Callie turned her head, her gaze skimming across the path toward one of the landscaped showcase spots. A wide arc of flowering ground cover and ornamental grasses flanked by a curved trellis and low stone wall. It no doubt was meant to givecustomers inspiration for their own yards. A live catalog. Clean. Serene.
But something wasn’t right.
Her eyes narrowed. “That sensor light is off.”
Matthew followed her gaze to the slender pole near the stone edge, where a small motion-activated floodlight was mounted. It was turned almost completely to the side, aimed out toward the trees instead of the demo area it was meant to cover.
“It’s not solar,” she said, stepping closer, Sammy by her side. “It’s wired. We had them installed to cover the more remote corners out here.”
Matthew moved in beside her and examined the fixture. “Still operational. But someone turned it. Deliberately.”
She stared at it, hands on her hips. “That light hasn’t been touched since we put it in. I’d have seen that during watering checks.”
He knelt to examine the base. No signs of damage, no loosened hardware. Only a simple, quiet shift. Enough to create a blind spot.
“They came through here,” she said softly. “Under cover of dark. Shifted the light and slipped through.”
