Page 31 of Obscurity (Pros and Cons Mysteries #5)

Others had also climbed from their tents, curious—and scared.

Everyone seemed to gravitate toward the Main Street area, questions murmuring through the air.

Olive tried to pick up on what had happened. Tried to listen to the conversations around her in case somebody knew something.

But everyone seemed clueless.

However, that gunfire had come from somewhere close.

And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t worried.

“It’s okay, everyone.” Max appeared in front of them, waving his hands in the air to get their attention.

“What’s going on?” Jason yelled. “Was someone hurt?”

“A few festivalgoers decided that they didn’t want to stay any longer,” Max explained. “So they ventured up the mountain, trying to get back to the lodge. Along the way they encountered a bear on the trail.”

Gasps sounded around them.

“What happened then?” someone called.

“Thankfully, Tom saw them leaving and decided to trail behind them, just in case something like this were to happen,” Max explained. “And it’s a good thing that he did. When he saw the bear, he fired his gun in the air and the bear ran away. Everybody is safe and they’re heading back here now.”

Murmurs of relief followed.

“But I’d like to remind everybody that we are in the middle of a wilderness,” Max continued. “This isn’t Disney World. There are real dangers out there. And I encourage all of you to stay here and not try to leave on your own. Because if you do, there are no guarantees we can protect you.”

Something about his words left a cold, hollow feeling in Olive’s gut.

A few minutes later, everyone had scattered.

As Olive and Jason climbed into their tent, they exchanged a look.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and ominous. Through their tent’s thin walls, she heard the wind picking up, rustling through the abandoned buildings of Grayfall with an almost mournful sound.

“There’s a storm coming,” Jason noted.

As if summoned by his words, the first fat raindrops began pattering against their tent.

Within minutes, the gentle patter had turned into a steady drumming. Shouts echoed across the festival grounds as people scrambled for shelter.

The earlier sounds of revelry turned to complaints and distress as the reality of spending a stormy night in cheap tents with no proper rain gear set in.

People called to each other, footsteps splashed as people rushed through rapidly forming puddles, and the occasional curse cut through the air as someone tripped over tent stakes in the darkness.

“I guess we’re settling back in for the night whether we want to or not,” Jason said.

Olive lay back on her thin sleeping bag, staring at the tent ceiling as rain drummed overhead. Despite her body’s exhaustion, her mind raced, planning and replanning their next moves.

Tomorrow, she needed to talk to Connor again. She needed to find a way to access that promotional footage without arousing suspicion. Maya might have useful information too if Olive could catch her during a sober moment.

Most importantly, they needed to find a way to protect Becca without breaking their cover.

The young journalism student was walking around with a target on her back, asking questions about Brad’s prior businesses and completely unaware she was investigating the very people who might have done something to her best friend.

But what worried Olive most was a thought she couldn’t shake: What happened when the other festivalgoers finally reached their breaking point?

The accommodations were terrible, the promised headliners no-shows, the food inadequate, and now they were trapped in a thunderstorm with equipment that clearly wasn’t designed for actual camping.

Did Brad want everyone to be stranded here for a reason?

The question sent a chill down Olive’s spine. She thought about the signal jamming, the security patrols, and the way the guides had positioned themselves earlier to prevent people from leaving.

Everything about this operation suggested careful planning and serious resources.

People who’d invested this much in . . . in whatever they were planning . . . didn’t usually just let their victims walk away when things got inconvenient.

“Jason?” she whispered.

“Mmm?”

“What do you think happens tomorrow when people start demanding to leave?” She needed his opinion, needed to stop spinning the questions in her mind.

He was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice carried the same unease she felt. “I think we’re about to find out just how trapped we really are.”

Outside, the storm intensified, and Olive couldn’t shake the feeling that the weather was the least of their problems.