And since Olivia wasn’t able to talk to them, they’d have to hope the clues they needed to piece together this puzzle would be waiting for them inside the small house she called home.

Organizations that planned private events in public places were asking for trouble.

But it made this job easier.

Buzz drove past the lot at the back entrance to the park, near the small museum, and gave it a sweep. The spots were already filling up—but most of the 250 or so official attendees were probably parked near the main entrance on the other side of the park.

His group, however, was gathering back here. Dan had said that as many as two or three hundred like-minded souls could show up.

He continued down the road to the small upscale mall a mile away, where parking was plentiful. After slipping on his shades and helmet, he slid out of the car and reached into the backseat to retrieve the small saddlebag containing his black slacks, black hoodie, and scarf.

As he removed his bike from the rack on the back of his car, he gave the parking lot a casual perusal.

No one was paying any attention to him.

And why should they? This mall was on a popular biking route, and the Starbucks a few doors down was a favorite spot to take a break and rehydrate. In his cycling gear, he was just another weekend warrior.

Buzz took off down the two-lane road, back toward the park. As the bike trail began to parallel the road, he zipped over to it and continued toward the spot in the wooded section he’d found last week during his scouting trip. The small, densely shrubbed area was a perfect place to hide his bike and don the black pants and hoodie over his biking gear.

And after his job was finished, all he had to do was wend his way back here and become a biker again. With the massive congestion in the park on Saturdays—weddings, family reunions, picnics, joggers, bikers, equestrians, the activities at the rec center . . . not to mention the chaos he’d soon cause—he should have no problem melting into the melee and slipping away.

Still, despite all the careful planning, it would be a relief to have this over. The job had to be done—and it was an honor to be trusted with the task—but crossing a major moral line like this was a bit . . . unnerving.

Even if it was necessary for the cause.

He pulled on his hoodie, shoved the scarf into his slacks, and quashed the tiny trace of doubt niggling at his conscience. This mission required his full focus.

Squaring his shoulders, he jogged down the path toward the parking lot where everyone had been instructed to gather.