Just for a second.
Then he smiles.
“Sometimes,” he says, “the right people find us exactly when we need them.”
Boone doesn’t move.
Doesn’t react.
But I can feel the tension in him.
Pastor Eli just confirmed it.
This isn’t just a volunteer network.
It’s a pipeline.
And Boone Grant, the man who destroyed the last one, just walked straight into the middle of it.
I lean toward him.
“Please tell me you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”
He doesn’t look at me.
“Yeah.”
“What?”
He watches the room carefully.
“I think they’re about to try to recruit me.”
And for the first time since we arrived in Montana—
I’m not sure if that’s the worst thing that could happen.
Or the best.
Because if they want Boone inside their network, we might finally learn who’s really running it.
7
Boone
The meeting breaks up slowly.
People linger in the aisles talking about flood season and volunteer schedules. Someone brings out coffee or sweet tea and homemade cookies like this is just another church gathering on a quiet Montana afternoon.
Which is exactly what it’s supposed to look like.
Wren and I stay seated near the back.
Watching.
Listening.
Learning.
