Helena goes still. "You think?—"
"I think he moves like someone who's done this before. And people who move like that don't just look up at the sky. Theyassess." I close the footage. "Maybe I'm reading too much into body language. But combined with everything else? He's not just asking questions."
"Zeke's already increased patrols. Rhys is coordinating with his department. But Eli, if they're willing to canvas businesses in broad daylight, they're planning something."
"Then we make sure we're ready when they make their move."
Helena hesitates. Then reaches into her desk, pulls out something I recognize. Handgun. Glock 19. She sets it on the desk between us.
"I'm armed," she says quietly. "Zeke upgraded my clinic security after a trafficking witness was targeted here last year. I know how to use this and I will if necessary."
Her tone's matter-of-fact. No bravado. Just capability and willingness clearly stated.
"Good. Network comes at you, don't hesitate."
"I won't." She slides the weapon back into the drawer. "But they're not coming for me. They're coming for Traci. Which means they're coming for you."
"Let them try."
They won't like what they find. I've spent the time planning for every contingency. Every approach vector. Every possible assault pattern. They come for Traci, they're walking into a kill zone designed by someone who's been running these scenarios since before most of them learned which end of a gun to point.
"Eli." She stops me before I can leave. "Traci's making real progress. The stability you're providing is working. Don't let the threat change that. She needs consistency right now more than anything."
"She needs to stay alive."
"She needs both. And the only way she gets both is if you hold the line without showing her how scared you are."
"I'm not scared."
Helena's look says she knows that's not entirely true. "You're tactical enough to recognize the threat. That's smart. But Traci picks up on tension. If you start treating every shadow like an enemy, she'll regress. Keep the routine. Keep the stability. Handle the threat without making it her problem."
What Helena's really saying: don't let Traci see the predator. She's seen enough violence. Doesn't need to see mine until it's absolutely necessary.
"Understood," I say.
We head back to the waiting room. Traci's exactly where we left her, backpack on lap, watching the door. She stands when she sees us.
"Ready?" I ask.
She nods.
The drive home feels different. Can't shake the surveillance footage. That man wasn't just asking questions—he was mapping the town. That level of confidence suggests either backup close by or timeline pressure.
I vary the route. Take the long way, double back once, check mirrors at every turn. Sedan three cars back stays consistent for a few blocks, then turns off. Probably nothing. Probably civilian traffic.
I log it anyway. Silver sedan. Couldn't get plates from this angle.
Traci notices the different route. Glances at me, question in her eyes, but doesn't pull out her notebook. Accepts it without demanding explanation.
I pass a blue pickup parked near the intersection. Driver's looking at his phone. Texting, or coordinating. I note the vehicle, keep moving.
Every car becomes a potential threat. Every parked vehicle a possible staging point. Hypervigilance ramping up exactly likeHelena warned against. But the alternative is missing something that gets us killed.
I need to find the balance. Stay alert without broadcasting tension.
When we pull into the cabin's driveway, I do one more mirror check. Road behind us empty. Forest quiet. Perimeter undisturbed.
Traci doesn't immediately get out. She sits there looking at the structure.
