Page 101 of Shadows of Obsession
Connor stood on the opposite side of the ring, leaning casually against the weathered wooden fence. One booted leg rested on the bottom rail, muscled arms folded across the top in an easy pose of confidence. His hat was pushed back slightly, and even from this distance, Daniel could see the relaxed smile curving his mouth as he watched the ring.
The tall man's comfortable posture screamed that he belonged here, that this was his world, his territory. The smug bastard.
Standing beside him was another tall, broad-shouldered man with sleeve tattoos covering both arms, ink visible even from across the arena. There was an alertness to his stance that Daniel recognized instantly. The coiled readiness of someone trained to notice threats. Military, maybe. Ex-military, more likely. The way he held himself, the constant scanning, the positioning that kept his sightlines clear, it all spoke of experience.
Great. A possible complication.
Both men were focused on a particular horse in the ring, pointing and discussing its performance in voices lost to the hum of the crowd, the chatter of hundreds of conversations, the announcer's droning commentary, the snorts and stamping of restless horses.
Daniel paused, partially concealed behind a family with three small children bickering over a shared bag of popcorn. He watched the two men from a distance, his eyes narrowed against the harsh sunlight that made the white-painted rails shimmer and his vision swim.
Connor seemed completely engrossed in the animated conversation, gesturing enthusiastically as he spoke to his companion, clearly in his element. His body language was open and relaxed, the stance of someone without a care in the world.
If Connor was here, Anna had to be close. The thought sent a thrill of excitement shooting through Daniel's chest, electric and intoxicating. His pulse quickened, his palms growing slick with more than just the heat. After weeks of searching, of dead ends and false leads, of the crushing frustration of her simply vanishing, he was close now. So close he could almost taste it.
But he forced the surge of anticipation down before it could show on his face, before it could bleed into his body language and draw attention. He couldn't afford to lose sight of his target by acting rashly. He couldn't let emotion override strategy.
He also couldn't risk being seen or recognized. Not yet. Not before he had a plan.
Patience. Just a little more patience.
He continued his slow, methodical orbit of the expansive ring, keeping his head low and his movements deliberate to avoid attractingnotice. Just another anonymous spectator lost in the chaotic swirl, pausing occasionally to watch the horses, blending seamlessly with the other attendees.
But his calculating eyes never strayed from Connor for long. They always tracked back to that spot by the fence, alert for any sign, any small tell, that might reveal Anna's whereabouts. A glance toward the barns. A check of his phone that might indicate a message from her. Anything.
His pulse leapt when he saw Connor finally break away from his conversation, clapping the tattooed man on the shoulder before striding purposefully toward the cluster of barns nearby.
Follow him.
Ten massive barns loomed ahead, cavernous metal structures that gleamed dully beneath the harsh sunlight. Each one was large enough to house hundreds of horses, with endless rows of stalls visible through the open doors. The rich, earthy scents of hay, warm horse, and oiled leather drifted out from their depths, mingling with the dust and ever-present tang of manure that clung to the air.
The barns formed a sprawling, labyrinthine maze, easy to get lost in, Daniel noted immediately. Each building looked nearly identical from the outside, and the winding pathways between them created confusing angles and blind corners. A perfect place to hide someone.
But Daniel was determined. Grimly, methodically, he followed. He kept his pace steady, unhurried, blending in with the knots of spectators meandering between barns, families searching for restrooms, riders checking on their horses, vendors pushing carts of cold drinks. A predator with infinite patience stalking his chosen prey.
Connor entered one of the larger barns, number seven, according to the faded sign hanging crookedly above the entrance, and Daniel shadowed him at a careful distance, always keeping others between them as a moving shield. A cluster of teenage girls in matching team jackets. An elderly couple holding hands. Anyone who could provide cover.
The barn's lofty interior was spacious and airy despite the heat outside. Diffused sunlight filtered through high windows and glinted off freshly painted stall fronts arranged in perfect rows. Industrial fans mounted to the rafters churned the air just enough to keep it fromstagnating, creating a steady hum that blended with the sounds of shifting horses and muted voices.
Orderly lines of stalls stretched out on either side of the wide concrete aisle, the occasional curious horse poking its head over the half-door to investigate the passersby. Daniel caught flashes of sleek coats, dark eyes, and twitching ears.
He pretended to read his phone as he walked, just another man checking messages while on his way somewhere, maintaining the illusion of purpose even as his gaze tracked Connor's every move.
At the far end of the aisle, Daniel spotted a setup that could only be Connor's base of operations. Director's chairs with Whitaker Quarter Horses embroidered on the backs. Walls draped with ribbons and awards in every color. Vases of elaborate flowers that had to be gifts from well-wishers. Neatly stacked trunks of polished tack gleaming in the filtered light.
Successful. Of course he's successful. Of course Anna would run to someone who has his shit together. The bitter thought curdled in his gut, sharp and acidic.
He watched from behind a conveniently placed stack of hay bales, the sweet scent of alfalfa mingling with dust that made his nose itch. He pressed a hand over his nose and mouth, stifling the urge to sneeze, as Connor moved methodically down the rows.
Connor inspected each stall with practiced ease, checking water buckets, running his hands over horses' legs, and conferring with the stable hand who worked beside him. He responded to him with clear respect, quick to follow his instructions.
Daniel's eyes scanned every face, every figure that moved through the barn. Stable workers were bent over hooves, riders adjusting bridles, people brushing down glossy coats. Anna could easily be hidden among them, tucked away from view, working quietly in the back.
But no matter how long he watched, no matter how thorough his scan, he saw no trace of her. No familiar flash of honey-blonde hair. No soft laugh that would have stopped his heart mid-beat.
Nothing.
Frustration rose like bile in the back of his throat, hot and bitter. His hands clenched into fists, short nails biting crescents into his palms as he fought the overwhelming urge to storm in, to tear the placeapart until he found her. To shout her name. To demand answers. To make them tell him where she was.