Page 8 of Devlin (Lighthouse Security Investigations Montana #4)

Margarethe shook her head. “Not yet. First, we’ll meet Dr. Horace München, the head of the camp. He oversees the entire operation, coordinates with international and government agencies, and liaises between them and the camp. He’s also responsible for maintaining order across the villages.”

“Sounds like a hell of a job,” Cole muttered.

Margarethe chuckled, nodding in agreement. “It is. But it’s essential to check in with him first. Everyone working in the camp reports to Dr. München when they arrive.”

The van slowed to a stop outside a rudimentary two-story building. Its construction was basic but functional, with peeling paint and reinforced windows that hinted at both resourcefulness and the challenges of the environment.

Jonan stepped out first, his ever-present smile firmly in place. “I can take your belongings to the guesthouse,” he offered. “Just leave them here.”

“Thanks, but we’ll keep them with us,” Devlin replied firmly. They weren’t about to part with their equipment or firearms.

Jonan nodded, unbothered, and stepped aside to let them unload their duffels.

The Keepers followed Margarethe into the building, passing through a reception area where a young woman sat behind a counter.

She greeted Margarethe warmly, and the two exchanged a few words before Margarethe led the group down a short hallway and up a narrow staircase.

“Moses!” Margarethe called as they reached the top.

Devlin’s eyes landed on a towering man standing near the window. His build was imposing, and his presence commanding. He was dressed in full military gear, complete with body armor and a sidearm holstered at his hip. His expression was serious but relaxed as Margarethe approached.

She turned with practiced ease to make the introductions. “Moses, these are the men assisting me with an inventory in food storage. The WFP approved them as security. We’re about to meet with Dr. München, and I’d be glad if you could join us.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Moses replied, his smile directed at Margarethe. Though his demeanor appeared calm, his sharp eyes appraised the Keepers, lingering on each of them for a moment longer than necessary.

Margarethe led the way to an open door, pausing to knock on the frame before stepping inside.

The room beyond was modest in size, made to feel even smaller as the group filed in.

Devlin quickly took stock of the space. A cluttered desk, stacked high with folders and papers, sat at the center of the room.

Behind it, maps of the camp lined the walls, dotted with pins and scribbled notes.

Dr. Horace München, tall and thin, stood as they entered. His gray hair was neatly combed, and his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. Despite his slightly wrinkled clothes, his presence exuded a quiet authority.

“Margarethe,” he greeted warmly, rounding his desk with open arms. He embraced her briefly before pulling back. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you as well, Horace,” she replied with a smile. “Thank you for seeing us on short notice.”

Dr. München’s gaze shifted to the men behind her, curiosity sparking in his expression. “I understand you’ve brought security with you. Should I be worried?”

“We’re making a food delivery and reviewing inventory,” Margarethe explained smoothly.

“Allow me to introduce Jim Devlin, Cole Iverson, and Todd Blake. They’re private security, approved by the WFP, and will assist me during my stay.

They are authorized to stay after I leave and will investigate any problems. You know how thorough the WFP can be. ”

Dr. München’s serious expression softened into a welcoming smile. “Welcome to Uganda and Camp Bidi Bidi,” he said, extending a hand.

“Dr. München.” Devlin clasped the offered hand firmly. “Thank you for having us. I usually just go by Devlin.” Devlin shifted his attention to Moses, who stood silently at Margarethe’s side.

Margarethe gestured toward the head of security. “I’m glad Moses is here. These men are armed, but it’s purely procedural. Like Moses, they’re former military and highly trained. I thought it best for you to meet so there’s complete transparency.”

Moses gave a small nod of approval. “I offer my own welcome to Uganda,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

“The camp runs efficiently, and I hope Margarethe will not need your assistance, but you are welcome here. With the influx of newcomers this week, my officers are stretched thin. If your presence helps ease the load, I’m all for it. ”

With that, Moses gave a curt nod and exited the room, his boots thudding against the wooden floor.

Dr. München turned his attention back to Margarethe, offering logistical details.

“Your accommodations are prepared,” Margarethe said.

“Once we’ve settled, I suggest heading directly to the warehouse.

The food delivery you brought with you will need to be sorted and logged. ”

Another round of handshakes followed, and the group made their way out of the administration building.

Outside, the sun bore down relentlessly, the air thick and humid.

Jonan waited by the van, his ever-present grin lighting up his face.

As they approached, Margarethe turned to the Keepers.

“The guesthouse accommodations are rudimentary,” she said with a touch of humor. “But I’m sure you’ve seen worse.”

Devlin chuckled, his easy demeanor belying his alertness. “I assure you, we’ll be fine.”

Margarethe smiled warmly and turned to Jonan. “If you could take my things to Elaine’s quarters, I’ll stay with her. These gentlemen can handle their belongings—it’s just a short walk to the guesthouse.”

Jonan nodded, giving a small wave before climbing back into the van. The vehicle rumbled down the dusty road, kicking up a soft plume of red earth in its wake.

“Elaine is Dr. Elaine Parker, the head medical officer of the camp,” Margarethe explained as they began walking.

“She and I met twenty years ago, and we’ve been close friends ever since.

Whenever I visit, she lets me stay in a small room that doubles as an office.

It’s cozy, with a little bed tucked in the corner. It’s like being roommates again.”

The Keepers fell into step behind her, their boots crunching softly against the packed earth.

The road was bordered by grass and vibrant trees.

Overhead, the blue sky stretched endlessly, dotted with cotton-white clouds that offered brief moments of shade from the relentless sun.

A faint breeze stirred the air, carrying the mingled scents of earth, wood, and distant cooking fires.

They soon approached a modest one-story building made of weathered wood with a thatched roof.

An awning stretched over the front porch, shading several chairs arranged around a firepit.

Margarethe led them inside, guiding them through a narrow hallway to a room tucked into the back corner of the house.

“Here we are,” she said, motioning them in.

Devlin stepped through the doorway, quickly surveying the space. Four military-style beds lined the room, each accompanied by a narrow metal wardrobe. The room was sparse but functional, the kind of accommodations he’d seen countless times before in the military.

“You can store your things here,” Margarethe said. “I’m going to get keys for your room.”

As she disappeared down the hall, the Keepers tossed their duffels onto the beds, each claiming a cot.

The mosquito netting was strung over each bed, pulled to the side during the daytime.

They worked efficiently, stowing their belongings in the wardrobes and securing their equipment with the padlocks they’d brought.

Devlin knew the locks wouldn’t stop anyone determined to break in, but they might deter someone with idle curiosity.

The sun shone through the slats of shutters over a small window. An overhead fan rotated lazily, barely disturbing the heavy air.

Margarethe returned, a kerchief tied around her neck to catch the perspiration.

She dabbed at her brow before handing each Keeper a key.

“I don’t expect you’ll have trouble with security here,” she said, her tone steady but cautious.

“That said, these are uncertain times. Our visit may unsettle someone who has something to hide.”

Devlin nodded. “We’ll remain armed, like any other security personnel here.”

“Understood,” Margarethe replied, her expression resolute.

They stepped outside, the sun blazing as it descended toward the horizon.

Along the lane, Ugandans and refugees moved about, some carrying baskets of supplies and others chatting in small groups.

Most smiled and waved as they passed, their warmth and resilience striking Devlin.

Despite the hardships, there was an almost tangible sense of hope here.

After a short walk, the road widened, revealing several large buildings on either side. Margarethe gestured toward one of them. “Food storage is over here. I see our truck has arrived. Let’s head inside so you can meet the team.”

They entered a reception area, where a woman sat behind a wooden counter. Her face lit up when she saw Margarethe, and her smile was warm and genuine. “Oh, Ms. Gunther,” she said in halting English. “It is so nice to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to be back,” Margarethe replied. “Is our truck being unloaded?”

“Yes.” The woman nodded. “Farid is in the back, ready for intake.”

Margarethe turned to the Keepers, her eyes alight with purpose. “Let’s get started.”

Devlin exchanged a glance with Cole and Todd, each silently preparing for what lay ahead. This mission wasn’t just about inventory but about peeling back layers to uncover a truth someone was desperate to hide.

Without hesitation, Margarethe led the Keepers through a side door into a sprawling storage facility.

The air inside was cooler but carried the earthy scent of packed goods and wooden crates.

Devlin’s sharp gaze swept over the space, noting the organized rows of crates stacked with precision.

Workers moved purposely among them, carrying, stacking, and inspecting items with practiced efficiency.

From what he could see, a method and controlled rhythm kept the chaos at bay.

Near the center of the room, a man with dark hair and sun-kissed skin stood holding a clipboard. His sharp eyes scanned the workers. As he turned and saw Margarethe, his serious expression melted into a broad smile. He strode toward her with open arms, his joy palpable.

“Margarethe!” he exclaimed, his voice reaching them through the buzz of activity.

Margarethe engulfed him in a hug, her warmth unmistakable. Keeping an arm around him, she turned to the Keepers. “This is Devlin, Todd, and Cole.” She gestured toward them. “And this is Farid Hussein. He’s the second-in-command here, and this place wouldn’t function without him.”

Farid offered a firm handshake to each of them, his demeanor welcoming. He turned to Margarethe. “I know you are anxious to see her. She’s on the other side,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “Let me get her!”

Margarethe didn’t wait, following him as he navigated through the rows of crates toward the far side of the building.

Devlin and the others trailed, weaving among the rows.

As they approached, his eyes locked on a woman standing with her back to them.

Her long, dark braid hung down her back, swaying slightly as she moved.

She wore a simple white T-shirt tucked into khaki pants that fit her snugly, emphasizing a lithe, graceful frame.

Margarethe quickened her pace, and as she reached the woman, the two embraced heartily, their laughter cutting through the activity in the building. The woman turned partially, offering a glimpse of her profile, and Devlin felt an unexpected jolt. She was much younger than he’d imagined.

Margarethe waved them over, and Devlin followed, his steps slowing as they drew closer. The woman turned fully, her smile bright and welcoming as her gaze landed first on Cole, then shifted to Todd. But when her eyes reached Devlin, the air thickened, making breathing difficult.

They stared at each other, the space between them suddenly electric.

Devlin’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out the distant chatter and the scrape of crates being moved.

His world narrowed to the impossible reality standing before him.

The woman he had loved fiercely when they’d been together and still loved after he’d walked away was now standing before him, her gaze just as wide and disbelieving as his.

Margarethe’s voice broke through the haze, though the words barely registered. “Devlin,” she said, her tone cheerful. “Let me introduce our food security officer, Mia Duff.”

Mia Duff. Her name echoed in his mind, loud and clear. It was as if time had rewound the years between them into nothingness. Her expression was unreadable, her lips slightly parted as though she, too, couldn’t find the words.

Devlin didn’t move, his body rigid and his chest tight. Questions swirled in his mind, unanswered and unanswerable at the moment. All he knew was that Mia Duff was here. And just like that, the mission took on a whole new weight.