Page 127 of False Flag

“Sorry, Gerard,” Staci said. “We were just taking our federally mandated break that is, as the name implies, mandated by the US government. I believe it applies even though we’re in Canada, but I can look up Canadian employment law to be certain. Still, I don’t think that’ll go your way either.”

“Break is over. We need to upload the podcast. My followers expect it at eleven sharp.”

Dahlia glared at her boss. “It’s coming. You know I never miss.”

“Today was supposed to be my day off, but I came in to record anyway. I’m off the clock.” She turned to Dahlia. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She stepped forward, forcing Gerard to step aside so she could slip through the doorway. She took several steadying breaths as she climbed the stairs, eager to get outside. How Dahlia could stand spending so many of her working hours in a basement was beyond her.

But then, as Dahlia had said, she was well paid. Still, she was doing two jobs—assistant and producer—for a man who wouldn’t protect her from a predator.

How long until Staci was able to put Gerard out of business and Dahlia out of a job? Would she be pleased she’d fed Staci information then?

She couldn’t worry about that now. Dahlia had made her own choices both when she accepted the job and today.

Outside was sunny and bright, and the crisp breeze tousled her hair. The wind tasted like freedom. She might still be stuck on this island, but she’d taken a major step closer to being free. She was eager to escape into the woods, but first, she stopped at Geoduck House to grab her backpack with hiking supplies, then raided the kitchen for a portable lunch.

At last, she was off. She’d spent the last several days identifying where the outdoor cameras were, so she walked in areas she knew were dead zones. She moved like a pinball as she bounced off invisible barriers to escape into the woods. More often than not, Beau tracked her movements on the island, and she didn’t want to make it easy for him.

Once she was in the woods, she’d take evasive steps to be certain he wasn’t following. She’d learned more than self-defense during her training sessions with Chase at Raptor.

Twenty-five minutes later, she was deep in the woods and certain she was truly alone for the first time in days. She checked her compass. There were anomalies here that caused it to go haywire. She’d noticed the erratic readings during filming over the last few days. Her goal now was to poke around and see what it was that Osborne had hidden in the forest that had enough pull to mess with magnetic north.

As she hiked, she was reminded of the paintball game she’d played a lifetime ago. Or maybe it had been less than a month. Who knew? Time was as skewed as her compass.

She’d been a secret agent, a trafficker, in the paintball war. Ostensibly, she’d been on Red team, but really, she’d been a free agent. Normal rules hadn’t applied to her. It was the same here. Except the stakes were deadly in this war.

She had no true allies—a conversation with Dahlia that didn’t provide much in the way of actionable intel didn’t count—and then, like now, thoughts of Jake filled her with longing and resentment.

Her feelings for him would always be complicated, making her wish for the brief days in which he’d just been the hot guy she’d hooked up with at a party.

But had he ever really been that? There’d been something about the man that had called to her from the moment she’d challenged him in Morgan’s backyard and he’d responded with, “All I hear is memorable and impressive.”

Quick. Funny. Charming.

He’d upended her expectations in that moment.

The next day, he’d charmed her again with his cocky assurance before they even boarded the bus. He’d snared her attention, and from then on, she’d wanted his even as she hated herself for it.

She’d pulled him into a hunting blind for her most favorite first kiss ever, and she was no stranger to first kisses. She’d taken the adage, you have to kiss a lot of toads to find your prince, to heart at a young age.

Jake hadn’t been a toad, nor had he been a prince. He was a man, and she didn’t know what to think of him after seven days without a word.

Still, she couldn’t stop thinking of him.

She stumbled on a root and cursed as she threw a hand out to the nearest tree to catch her balance, scraping her palm on a sharp branch. The wound was just a scratch, but it was a good reminder she needed to pay attention. It wasn’t like she could use her phone to call for help in this signal-repelling forest.

She looked around. She’d walked nearly a mile at this point, but her course had been far from straight. Trees were close together, but the undergrowth was sparse. There were no paths, but they weren’t needed. To the…possibly north, it was hard to say with an unhinged compass, there was a thicket that she’d have to skirt around. The tangle of undergrowth and trees was a thick wall that extended to a rocky outcrop.

She frowned, reminded of the blind she’d lured Jake into a month or a lifetime ago. She’d known that forest had hidey holes as part of the training ground, and so when she’d tripped and spotted the entrance, she’d known what she was looking at.

This looked similar. Only bigger.

An entire structure could be hidden in that mess.

She wouldn’t be surprised to find a pioneer cabin in this forest, but, if such a thing existed, why not include it in the inventory report? A cabin would be a true historic site, and one built by Osborne’s ancestors would be even more important to him. There was zero dispute over which white family took the island from Indigenous inhabitants by force.

She crouched down as she approached the thicket, looking for an opening. Her compass was going fully haywire. No doubt something in there was giving her compass the spins.