CHAPTER 36: THE MAN BEHIND THE KEY
We set the trap at first light, moving quiet as mist so no hidden watcher would spot the shift in our plans. We left the rusted iron box holding the deeds and Elias’s letter exactly where we’d claimed we’d hide it, half‑buried under dry pine needles beside the old gnarled oak, and laid a clear trail of empty supply crates and fresh tire tracks leading straight down toward the shallow west river crossing. Every rider took position deep in the tree line, hidden by thick rhododendron brush and the lengthening morning shadows, with strict orders to hold their ground and make no sound until every last one of their party was fully in the open, with no easy way to slip back into the dark.
Dusk came slow, gilding the river surface deep amber and bruised violet
