Page 3 of Obscurity (Pros and Cons Mysteries #5)
P ale Eyes reached for her.
As he did, Olive caught his wrist and twisted it sharply to the left while stepping back with her right foot.
The leverage sent him stumbling forward, off-balance and cursing.
Before he could recover, she pivoted behind him and applied pressure to the nerve cluster at the base of his neck with her thumb.
“Touch me again, and you’ll be eating through a straw.” Her voice carried a calm authority that came from years of professional experience. She increased the pressure just enough to make him gasp. “Are we clear?”
“What in the world, lady?—”
She released him with a small shove that sent him stumbling toward the beer cooler, his boots scraping against the linoleum as he fought to regain his balance.
The second man started forward, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment for his friend.
But he stopped dead when he noticed Olive’s stare. She made sure that her eyes held a cold challenge. Made sure her stance remained perfectly balanced with hands loose at her sides but ready.
She dared him to give her a reason to demonstrate her skills again.
He took a step back instead.
Smart man.
“Gentlemen.” Olive straightened her shoulders with deliberate calm, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her sleeve as if the entire encounter had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Thanks again for the directions. I’m sure we won’t have any more misunderstandings.”
The bell chimed as she walked out. She kept her movements unhurried despite the adrenaline coursing through her system.
Whatever she did, she couldn’t show fear. If she did, these men might come back for round two.
Behind her, Pale Eyes cursed, and his friend told him to “let it go.”
Wise advice.
She scanned the area for additional threats. The gravel parking lot was empty except for the two pickup trucks she’d seen when she arrived.
There was no movement in the trees that pressed close against the back of the building. No other buildings where someone could be watching from cover.
The narrow mountain road stretched empty in both directions, disappearing around curves that could hide approaching vehicles but showed no signs of current traffic.
Only when she was back inside her Wagoneer and on the gravel road did she allow herself to relax.
That encounter had lasted less than ten minutes, but it had shaken her and had left her feeling off her game.
If she hadn’t had the skills she did . . . she didn’t want to think about what that man might have done.
The reality also remained that she may have blown her cover. She’d had no choice, however. Now she only prayed those men didn’t have any connection to the festival.
She backtracked to County Road 15—the same direction she’d initially come from.
But as she eased onto the road, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched.
She knew men with egos didn’t appreciate being put in their place and might want vengeance. Had one of the men from the gas station followed her?
Every time she checked her rearview mirror, an empty road stretched behind her. But the sensation of being watched persisted like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
She’d need to keep her eyes wide open.
Those men and the trouble they brought with them were a distraction she couldn’t afford. Because with every passing second, Chloe Kingston could be getting farther and farther away.
Olive prayed Chloe hadn’t encountered any men like those at the gas station.
As Olive drove toward the lodge, Miles Kingston’s voice played in her memory: “Any word? It’s been a week since we heard from Chloe. Please, tell me you’ve found something.”
The man had been calling her every day, ever since he’d hired Aegis four days ago.
The tech billionaire’s twenty-four-year-old daughter had vanished while helping to plan and set up the inaugural Grayfall Music Festival in the abandoned mining settlement of Grayfall.
Chloe had been one of the lead organizers, hired to handle logistics and artist relations for what was supposed to be an intimate weekend of underground music.
The last communication anyone had received from her was a text that made Olive’s skin crawl every time she read it.
There’s more to Grayfall than you think. The trees are watching.
The trees are watching? What did that mean?
Olive couldn’t stop asking herself that question ever since she’d seen the text.
Local authorities had insisted Chloe was an adult who’d simply decided to skip town after the stress of organizing such an ambitious event.
But Chloe’s family knew better.
Chloe wouldn’t just vanish into thin air, leaving behind her responsibilities and her entire life.
For the past three days, Olive had immersed herself in research about the Grayfall festival and everyone connected to it. What she’d discovered had only deepened her concerns about what Chloe might have stumbled into.
Grayfall was the brainchild of Brad Kellerman, a man whose entrepreneurial history read like a cautionary tale of failed ventures and questionable business practices.
His previous attempts at event management had left a trail of unpaid vendors, disappointed investors, and mysteriously canceled performances.
Yet somehow, he’d managed to secure funding for an ambitious three-day festival featuring twenty fringe bands in one of the most remote locations in West Virginia.
The festival promised an authentic experience for a cozy group of five hundred music enthusiasts willing to pay premium prices—nearly five thousand dollars per ticket—for the privilege of camping in an abandoned mining town and listening to live music.
Food vendors, craft booths, and “immersive historical experiences” were all part of the package, along with performances by bands Olive had vaguely heard of in underground music circles. The event was adult-only and promised to be unforgettable.
What made her most suspicious was the logistics.
The old town of Grayfall had been cut off from vehicular access several years ago when flooding washed out the main road leading into town. Since the settlement had been abandoned for decades, no one had bothered to repair the infrastructure.
The only way to reach the festival grounds was on foot—a grueling hike that would challenge even experienced outdoor enthusiasts.
Kellerman had arranged parking near the lodge. A shuttle would take them as far down the trail as possible, but attendees would still have to hike five miles to Grayfall. Most festivalgoers would only need to bring a backpack with toiletries and clothes. Everything else would be provided.
Who chooses to hold a festival somewhere people can barely reach? Olive wondered, her unease from the gas station encounter adding new weight to the question. And why are people willing to pay so much for such an inconvenient experience?
Things didn’t add up in her mind.
She needed to find answers.
But being in such an isolated place would make all of this complicated . . . and entirely more dangerous.