Page 20 of Devlin (Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana #4)

Devlin didn’t push Mia any further. Instead, he stayed by her side, his eagle-eyed gaze scanning the operation as the day unfolded.

His admiration for her only deepened as he watched her move seamlessly between roles.

One moment, she was the no-nonsense professional, tracking lists of food and trucks, and issuing orders to drivers with unwavering authority.

The next, she was in the villages, overseeing food distributions, her face lighting up as she greeted the refugees with a warmth that never felt forced.

She was everywhere at once, ensuring the camp’s food supplies for over a hundred thousand refugees ran as efficiently as possible without losing sight of the people it was meant to serve.

She spoke to the men with respect, gave the women reassuring smiles, and knelt to embrace the children who ran into her arms, their laughter ringing out like a balm against the hardship that surrounded them.

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she?” Enock’s voice cut through Devlin’s thoughts.

Devlin turned to the man at his side, Moses’s second-in-command.

He gave a slow nod, his gaze drifting back to Mia.

He noted the way Enock watched her, and the admiration in his expression was clear.

Possessiveness twisted in Devlin’s gut, but he didn’t sense any deeper interest from Enock—just respect.

That eased something inside him, if only slightly.

Still, Devlin remained suspicious. Whoever was behind the thefts had connections and resources. But Enock exuded the same trust and ease around the refugees that Mia did. The people weren’t afraid of his uniform or the gun holstered at his hip.

“Have you worked here long?” Devlin asked.

“Five years.” Enock nodded. “When I was a child, I watched the police officers in town.” He chuckled. “I liked their uniforms. I liked the way the ones in charge carried themselves. They’d smile at us, and I knew then that I wanted to do the same one day.”

A group of men called Enock over, and as he walked away, Devlin moved toward the back of the Sweswe village food center’s loading dock. He found Mia standing slightly apart, watching as a truck was unloaded.

He followed her gaze. The efficiency of the process impressed him—the truck drivers unloaded crates as the refugees lined up with ID cards and baskets, each person receiving their allotted share.

There was no chaos, no pushing or shoving, and no anger.

Just patience, gratitude, and quiet relief as they walked away with their meager rations, ready to bring food back to their families.

“What can I do to help?” Devlin asked.

Mia turned to him, her eyes widening slightly. “You’re supposed to be watching while I work.”

“I am.”

Her eyes now narrowed. “I think that entails keeping an eye on more than just me.”

He held her gaze. “Keeping an eye on you is my most important job,” he admitted. “At the same time, the more I learn about this process, the more I can see where things might be going wrong.”

“Got any ideas yet?”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Honest to God, there are so many places where things could go missing, it’s almost laughable. The easiest way? If the drivers aren’t getting the full shipments to begin with. Not all of these trucks come from an organization.”

“And we have deliveries day and night.”

He nodded, then motioned toward a group of men clustered around Enock. “What’s your read on Enock?”

She studied him, her expression shifting. “Do you mean, do I trust him?”

“That, too. But mostly how his team operates.”

She glanced away, her gaze fixed on the distance before meeting his again. “Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it. Everything here works because we don’t have time to do anything but our jobs. We have to trust that everyone else is doing the same.”

“So you don’t have time to wonder if someone is committing a crime.”

She grimaced. “When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound great, does it?”

He stepped closer, fighting the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not bad, my Mia. It’s just reality.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and he realized too late that he’d let the words slip. My Mia. But she didn’t snap at him. She didn’t stiffen or glare. Instead, she dropped her gaze and simply nodded. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to exhale in relief.

Dragging his focus back to the operation, he scanned the dozens of workers unloading food. They weren’t going to catch this by watching the ground-level movement. If the thefts came from the top, they needed to follow the money trail.

While Mia moved away to continue supervising, Devlin stepped outside, finding a quiet corner to call LSIMT.

“Frazier. Devlin here. How’s it going?”

“Busy. How’s it on your end?”

“Too many moving pieces. Hundreds of trucks are in and out, day and night. Dozens of hands are involved every time a shipment arrives. If this is an organized operation, we need to follow the money, not the food.”

"Logan had the same thought. Casper and Sadie are already on it. We’re looking into international and Ugandan banks. If you have any names, that would help."

"Robert Ellyson." Devlin hesitated, glancing around to make sure Mia wasn’t nearby. She wouldn’t be happy, but Robert oversaw the trucks. If someone was moving stolen goods, he was in a perfect position to facilitate it. "Check Moses Kamanga and Enock Kasule, too. They’re with camp security."

“Got it. Who else?”

“Jonan Muwange. Farid Hussein.” He cursed under his breath. “Hell, Frazier, I could give you every single person’s name here.”

Frazier chuckled. “You’re narrowing it down, though. That’s a start.”

Devlin rattled off a few more names, including Ravi, Charlie, and Dr. München. “See if they’ve received any unusual payments. Let me know what you find.”

“Will do. And Devlin?”

“Yeah?”

“You doing okay?”

Devlin exhaled, rubbing a hand over his head. He had given Logan the heads-up about what he was facing here. “I’m managing. At least she can talk to me without wanting to kill me. I think.”

Frazier’s laugh was warm. “You got this. No matter what happens with Mia, you’ll be all right.”

“Thanks,” Devlin muttered before ending the call.

He stared at his phone, rolling his shoulders. Frazier was right—he had the mission. But he also had something more. The possibility of Mia. And that, more than anything, was the fight worth winning.

He looked over and spied Alain making his way toward him. Devlin nodded, saying, “I’m sorry you had to track us down here.”

Alain grinned broadly. “I am used to walking. Since I oversee the medical nurses for each village, this is a good place for me to start today.”

“Mia is inside. I’d like for her to be with us if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Alain said.

While Todd and Cole remained with Alain, Devlin jogged back into the building, his sharp gaze scanning the throng of workers. His eyes locked onto Mia’s, and she moved toward him without hesitation, curiosity flickering across her face.

"Hey, what’s up?"

"I know you’re busy, but I have Alain. He has some information for us, and I’d like you to hear it."

Her initial confusion shifted into interest, and she nodded.

Without thinking, Devlin placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the organized chaos of the warehouse.

They maneuvered around wooden crates stacked high and reed baskets filled with supplies.

Even through the thick air filled with the scent of grains and earth, the barest touch of his fingers against her back sent a familiar, electric tingle through him.

After all these years, something as simple as touch still carried the weight of memory.

When they reached Alain, standing beneath the shade of a towering tree, Devlin forced himself to pull his hand away, but he immediately missed the contact.

“Alain,” Mia greeted warmly, offering him a smile. “It’s nice to see you. I talk to your wife and children when they head to school.”

Alain returned her smile, and Devlin once again noted Mia’s unique ability to make people feel seen. She never simply greeted someone—she made them feel important as if their presence truly mattered.

“And I see you are busy as always,” Alain replied.

Mia laughed, a soft, cheerful sound that made Devlin’s chest tighten. “I imagine you could say the same about the clinics.”

“You are right. People will always need food and medical care, which is why we are here.”

Mia glanced up at Devlin, and without a word, he knew she was silently signaling him to take the lead. He turned to Alain. “Jonan told me you have information about the black market.”

Alain’s easy smile faded, his expression darkening.

“Yes, I’m sorry to say. When I worked in the hospital in Congo treating insurgents, it was not hard to notice that while the Congolese people starved, the insurgents had food.

It was even brought into the hospital for their use.

” His voice dropped lower, burdened by the weight of his memories.

“It was even offered to us—the medical staff treating them.”

His face contorted as if remembering left a bitter taste. “As a healer, I took a vow to help anyone in need. But as a Congolese, it broke my heart to know that the food I was eating had been stolen, given to men who would leave the hospital only to continue their killing spree.”

Mia reached out and gently laid her hand on Alain’s arm, a gesture of quiet understanding.

“We can only be responsible for the choices we make, Alain. There are times we can influence others and guide them to do the right thing, but sometimes all we can do is mitigate the damage. Your job was to heal, and you did. You followed your calling, and you protected your family. That is what matters.”

Tears glistened in Alain’s eyes as he stared at Mia, as though absorbing her words into the very marrow of his bones.

Devlin held his breath, recognizing the moment for what it was—one of Mia’s gifts.

He had seen it before, so many times, watching her offer comfort with a single touch, a single word.

And now, standing beside her, he was struck all over again by just how remarkable she was.

His gaze lingered on her, the pull of old emotions swirling within him, mingling with something new. She had once loved him with all her heart, and the thought of earning back that love consumed him.

Realizing Mia and Alain waited for him, he cleared his throat and refocused. “Alain, what information do you have for us now?”

Alain exhaled heavily. “The black market for food that feeds the insurgents in the Congo mostly comes from Uganda. The reason is simple—Uganda takes in refugees freely, and the smugglers take advantage of the aid coming into the country. The theft happens at every level.”

“Can you give specifics?” Cole asked.

“Some steal directly from the farmers, raiding fields, selling crops at high prices, and smuggling them across the border. Others divert food meant for the refugee camps before it even reaches its destination. And then there are the warehouses—raided or bribed officials letting trucks through without questions.”

Devlin felt the weight of Alain’s words pressing on his shoulders.

“So the trucks from our warehouses can drive straight into the Congo?” Mia’s voice rose slightly, edged with frustration.

Devlin instinctively placed a hand on her shoulder, a calming touch.

She turned to him briefly, and instead of bristling, he felt the tension in her muscles ease under his fingertips. She nodded and turned back to Alain.

“What I learned," Alain continued, "is what I saw when we crossed Lake Edward. The lake is vast and impossible to guard completely. It divides Uganda from the Congo, and once food makes it onto a boat, there’s virtually no stopping it before it reaches its destination.”

Todd crossed his arms. “We know Congo has the Allied Democratic Forces and the M23 rebels, but do you have any idea who might be stealing from this camp?”

Alain shook his head. “If I knew, I would have gone straight to Dr. München. But my best guess? The M23 rebels. They control most of the smuggling routes in eastern Congo. If food is being stolen from this camp, they’re likely involved, or at least the ones at the end of the line.”

Devlin watched as Alain sagged slightly, exhaustion evident in every line of his face. Before he could speak, Mia stepped forward again, both hands clasping Alain’s.

“Alain, you must know that for all you do—for the refugees, for your wife and children—you are a good man.”

A tremulous smile broke across Alain’s face, and Devlin saw the way he straightened his shoulders as if those simple words had lifted an invisible weight from him. “Bless you, Miss Mia.”

Alain turned to Devlin. “If you have more questions, I will try to answer them. But I believe I have given you all I know.”

Before Devlin could ask anything else, Alain added, “Before I go back to the clinic, I will say this. Small-scale theft happens everywhere—desperation drives some, greed drives others. But if this is bigger, if the theft is more than a few stolen sacks, it’s organized. And it goes much higher up.”

He winced as if the admission pained him, then bowed his head. “Good luck,” he murmured before turning and walking away, leaving the three Keepers and Mia standing in silence, watching him go.