Debbie appears in the doorway, pale and wringing her hands. “They said it was urgent,” she whispers.
Urgent. I reach for my phone. No signal. Or maybe my hand is shaking too badly to see clearly.
“And your grandparents’ property?” the second agent asks casually. “That’s where you’ve been conducting field documentation?”
My pulse spikes. “Yes,” I answer before I can stop myself.
He nods once. “A team’s already en route.”
The floor drops.
“You can’t?—”
“It’s already underway.”
The drive back to the ranch is a blur of dust and adrenaline. My hands shake now. Not from fear. From disbelief.
This is procedural. There’s paperwork. Oversight.
You don’t just raid private property because of rock carvings.
Unless…
Unless the carvings aren’t what triggered it. Unless the alignment did.
And the hum? It must be measurable.
No, that’s absurd.
I crest the final hill and see the black SUVs before I reach the driveway.
Two. Government plates.
The barn door stands open. Grandma is on the porch, holding back tears.
Ash stands beside her. Carrying a box. The sight hits like a slap.
He’shelpingthem. Helping them take things.
Dammit!
My car door slams harder than I intend. Grandma rushes down the stairs. “Jo, they said it’s precautionary?—”
“Where’s Grandpa?” I ask, eyes locked on Ash, my gaze fierce.
“In the house,” she says. “They’re going through your bedroom.”
Ash sets the box carefully on the hood of one SUV.
He looks at me. Not defensive. Not smug. Worried.
Which infuriates me more. “You called this in?” I demand.
His brow snaps down. “What?”
“The council meeting. The timing. You knew I was mapping alignments.”
His jaw tightens. “I didn’t call anyone.”
