Page 53 of Warrior Security
“A few weeks ago, I was walking the property at night. Found fresh tire tracks on the back access road. Two sets, heavy, coming in from the county route. They stopped about thirty yards onto the property and turned around. Same night, a gate I’d latched was open.”
Hunter’s eyes stayed on my face, taking in each piece.
“About a week later, I was fixing a fence on the back boundary with Lark. Found a section of wire cut clean. Not broken, not sagged. Cut with a tool. Fresh tracks on the other side.”
“Where on the boundary?”
“South fence, near where the access road cuts in from the county route.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Hunter shook his head. “What else?”
“Today, I checked the old equipment shed on the back corner of the property, the one screened by the pines. Someone’s been using it. Beer cans, cigarette butts, floor space cleared out. Tire tracks behind the building where you could park out of sight.”
He was quiet for a few seconds. His fingers pressed flat against the table, the only movement in his body. “Beer cans don’t match the MO of our assholes. This sounds like kids.”
“That’s what I thought. Rural property, empty building, nobody watching. I certainly got into my share of trouble in spots like that as a teen.”
“But?”
“Kids don’t cut fences with wire cutters. Even if they were the ones in that shed, I think whoever was messing with the fence was someone else with uglier purposes in mind.”
His jaw tightened. “Where does the access road that runs along the back boundary connect?”
“County route, half a mile south. You can get onto the property from the back without ever coming near the barn or the house. The shed, the fence line where I found the cut, the tire tracks—they’re all accessible from that road.”
“And Lark doesn’t patrol back there?”
“She barely has time to keep the main operation running. The back forty might as well be another property.”
He glanced at the county map already spread between us. His finger traced the line I recognized as the route running past Pawsitive’s southern boundary.
“Beckett told you more about the operation we’ve been tracking?”
I nodded. “Yeah. That they’re moving product through rural properties. Back roads, remote structures.”
“Here’s what he might not have told you.” Hunter looked up from the map. “Lachlan got intel last week that they’re looking to set up a new staging point. They’ve burned through a couple of locations. Used them for a few weeks, cleared out before anyone caught on. Those spots are getting hot. They need somewhere fresh.”
“And Pawsitive fits the profile.”
“Big acreage. Remote structure with road access. Owner who’s too stretched to patrol her far boundary.” He paused. “Yeah. It fits.”
The office was quiet. Monitors hummed on a side table.
“I’m going to keep a more alert eye out. Especially around that area where the fence was cut.”
He nodded. “What does Lark think about all this?”
“Honestly, I haven’t mentioned it to her. She’s got a shit-ton on her plate right now.” I wanted to explain her financial problems because I knew Hunter would be the first to rally the troops to help her. But that wasn’t my decision to make, and if she didn’t want anyone to know what was going on, I would respect it. “And until we’re more sure, I’d like to shoulder this for her.”
“I respect it, but if you see escalation, you call us or the sheriff right away. Activity. People on the property. Vehicles moving.” His eyes found mine, sharp and direct. “You see that, you call me. Day or night.”
The office was quiet for a beat, then I stood and extended my hand.
“Will do. This place means everything to Lark. I’m not going to let anything happen to it.”
His grip was firm, and he held it for a beat before letting go. “Glad you’re out there.”
“I am too.” There was nowhere else I’d rather be.
