He'd developed the habit of walking through Main Square twice a day—once at dawn, once at dusk—ostensibly for coffee at Mae's Bakery, which sat on Main Square between the post office and the library. In reality, the walks gave him regular opportunities to check the dead drop without drawing attention.
The third bench from the fountain was empty except for a few fallen leaves. He sat down, pulled out his phone like any tourist killing time, and slipped his hand beneath the seat.
Paper. Folded tightly.
He palmed it smoothly, stood, and continued toward Mae's. Didn't unfold the note until he was inside the bakery, seated at a corner table with his back to the wall and a clear view of both entrances.
Someone searched my office. Files disturbed. Nothing missing, but they know I have something. Need to meet. Tomorrow. Same place, same time.
Something behind his ribs pulled tight. He read it again, memorizing the words, then folded the paper into his coffee napkin and let it dissolve in the dregs of his cup.
Someone had searched her office. Which meant someone knew she was asking questions. Which meant the timeline had just accelerated in ways he hadn't anticipated.
He pulled out his phone and texted Caleb.
Asset compromised. Local source's office searched. Files accessed but not taken. They're watching her.
The response came in under a minute.
How compromised?
Unknown. She noticed a disturbance. Nothing missing. Could be recon or warning.
Could also be them laying groundwork. If files go missing later, she's the obvious suspect for leaking.
Ronan hadn't considered that angle. But Caleb was right. If whoever was running this operation wanted to neutralize Lila without drawing attention, framing her for document theft would be cleaner than anything more direct.
Need to increase surveillance on her. Can you get me eyes on the town hall?
Already working on it. Building has security cameras, but the system is ancient. I can access the feed, but quality is garbage. Better option: get someone inside.
I'm already inside.
You're the security consultant for an event three weeks away. You can't justify daily presence in the permits office without raising flags.
He was right about that, too. Ronan's cover gave him access to Lila, but not unlimited access. Showing up every day would draw exactly the kind of attention they were trying to avoid.
Suggestions?
The town council is bringing in additional security for the centennial. Legitimate firm right in Blossom Springs. DeMario Security. A guy named Mitch DeMario runs it.
Ronan frowned at the screen.
Competition?
Complement. He handles the visible layer—crowd control, access management, and coordination with local law enforcement. You handle the assessment side. Two consultants, different roles, neither one stepping on the other's toes.
What do we know about him?
Former military. Solid reputation. No connections to anything we're tracking. He's clean.
Clean can be useful.
Clean can also complicate things if he starts noticing inconsistencies. Keep your distance but stay aware. He's good at his job.
Ronan pocketed his phone and stared out the window at Main Square. The fountain was running, catching the early morning light. A jogger passed by. An elderly man walked a small dog. The town was waking up, oblivious to the chess game being played beneath its surface.
Lila's note had been clear and calm. No panic. No demands. Just information and a request to meet. She was handling this better than most civilians would, but that didn't mean she understood what she was dealing with.
