For two weeks during the summer, an Amazon driver had terrorized the residents, delivering his packages as if the neighborhood were his personal raceway. Several families had captured his aggressive driving maneuvers on camera, but it wasn’t until an executive who lived on another street had nearly lost his son when the driver had tried to pass a car doing the speed limit on the traffic circle. The driver hadn’t seen the boy on the bike, and he’d missed him by inches, causing the boy to crash into the grassy hub. Unfortunately for the driver, another resident had captured in HD the entire ordeal on the latest iPhone. Several phone calls to Amazon had ultimately landed on the desk of one of the executive customer service representatives at Amazon headquarters. One of the homeowners had even emailed Jeff Bezos at [email protected], his publicly available email. He hadn’t responded—“Probably too busy dealing with a mistress and a divorce,” Zack had commented at the time—but the video had sealed the deal, and the driver was gone within days. There’d been no issues since, but Zack understood why Sherry was quick to react the way she had.

“Am I right about what happened?” Zack asked directly but without accusation in his tone.

“I swear to God, I didn’t see her. I wasn’t speeding. I know what happened over the summer with the other driver.” And he did, as it had been included in the target-package brief on Hidden Refuge that each team member had received. “Just like you said, I got distracted by the kids on bikes as they passed me. I only took my eyes off the road for a split second, just to make sure they didn’t swerve toward me. It’s happened before.” He turned to the girl and her mother. “I’m so, so sorry. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

The young, fit man’s apology seemed sincere, and Zack watched as Sherry softened. But there was something about it that felt calculated, as if he knew the right words to say. Stop it, Zack. You’re being paranoid, even for you. Yet he couldn’t shake the sensation, even as he spoke.

“What’s your name?”

The driver turned back to Zack. “Aaron. Why? Are you going to report me to Amazon? I really need this job, sir,” he pleaded.

Zack hesitated. His instincts were almost always right. They had to be because of what he did, who he was, but this was just a kid doing his job, wasn’t it?

“Okay, then, Aaron. No. I’m not going to call Amazon. This seems like it was an honest mistake. Just be as careful as possible. While we might have nice homes and things, all of that is replaceable—but our kids aren’t. You know what I mean?”