Page 60 of Once Hidden
“Route’s confirmed,” he said without preamble, spreading a map across the table.“Six scheduled deliveries along Highway 29, then branching onto Talomaska Creek Road.Fifteen miles total.”He traced the route, pausing at certain points.“These three locations are the most isolated.If I were setting an ambush, that’s where I’d do it.”
Riley studied the map, memorizing the curves and straightaways, the houses and turnoffs.“What about the trailing vehicle?”
“Ford Explorer, unmarked, civilian plates.We’ll stay at least a quarter-mile back most of the time.”
“And if we lose you?”Riley asked.
“You won’t,” the sheriff assured her, though his eyes betrayed some concern.“But if communication drops, we come in hot.No hesitation.”
Riley met the sheriff’s gaze.They both understood what was at stake.
Ann Marie checked her watch.“We should move.The real Dana would start her route right now.”
As they walked toward the garage, Riley felt a familiar tension—the blend of focus and fear that preceded every dangerous operation.The sheriff and his deputy peeled off toward their unmarked SUV, leaving Riley and Ann Marie with the SwiftUnified Parcels delivery truck.
“I don’t love you being back there alone,” Riley murmured as Ann Marie prepared to climb into the cargo area.
“You need backup,” Ann Marie replied, checking her weapon one last time.“And I’m wearing a vest too.”She hesitated, then added more softly, “Besides, you’re the one he’ll be watching.”
“Remember,” Sheriff Rich said, approaching them for a final word, “radio checks every five minutes.If you spot anything—a car following too close, someone watching from a driveway, anything that triggers your instincts—call it in immediately.”
“Understood,” Riley said.
Ann Marie climbed into the back of the truck, positioning herself behind a stack of parcels where she could maintain a clear line of sight to the rear doors while remaining hidden.
Riley settled into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and familiarizing herself with the controls.The truck felt bulky and unwieldy compared to her own vehicle, the sight lines restricted.A disadvantage if Tony decided to strike.
The delivery manifest was clipped to the dashboard, showing the same route Dana Beaufort was supposed to take today.
“Radio check,” came the sheriff’s voice in her ear.
“Clear,” Riley responded.
“Clear,” echoed Ann Marie from the back.
Riley turned the key, and the engine rumbled to life.She pulled out of the sheriff’s station.The weight of the Glock against her ankle was reassuring, though she hoped she wouldn’t need it.
“First checkpoint in three minutes,” the sheriff’s voice crackled in her ear.“We’re maintaining distance.”
“Copy,” Riley said, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.The Explorer was nowhere in sight, exactly as planned.
Riley merged onto the highway, settling into the right lane.The two-lane road stretched ahead, cutting through fields and woodland.Isolated.Exposed.Perfect for an ambush.
She exhaled slowly, steadying her nerves.The operation had begun.
The first delivery went smoothly—a cardboard box no larger than a shoebox, handed to an elderly woman who barely glanced at Riley’s face before signing the electronic pad.Riley maintained a pleasant, forgettable smile as she returned to the truck, her eyes never stopping their constant scan of the surroundings.The two-lane highway stretched before her, bordered by tall pines that cast dappled shadows across the asphalt.Perfect cover for someone watching, waiting.She adjusted her cap and pulled back onto the empty road, feeling exposed in the bright midday sun.
“One down,” Riley murmured into her mic.“Nothing unusual.”
“Copy that,” came Ann Marie’s soft reply from the back of the truck.“No movement on my end.”
“We’re holding position,” Sheriff Rich added.“Still clear.”
Riley settled into the rhythm of driving, but alert and ready to react.The truck hummed along the empty stretch of highway, passing old mailboxes and gravel driveways that disappeared into the woods.Each could hide a vehicle, a vantage point, a trap.
The phone on the passenger seat—Dana Beaufort’s work phone—buzzed with a notification.Riley glanced at it, then back to the road, before reaching for it.
“Got a message on Dana’s phone,” she said, keeping her voice low.
