Page 54 of Devlin

The words struck something in Devlin. A chord he hadn’t expected. It was the same thing he used to tell people when they questioned why he worked on the reservation. He nodded slowly. "No, that’s not hard for me to believe at all."

Percy leaned in slightly, waggling his eyebrows. "But you don’t have to worry about me being competition for Mia. I have my eye on the delectable Karen." His grin turned mischievous. "I’m breaking her resistance down, and I think she finds me at least as adorable as a puppy." He let out a hearty laugh. "And if I’m lucky enough that she’ll fall for me, I’ll get to take her home to meet my parents. Can you imagine? Me bringing home an Irish nurse?" He laughed, then shook his head. “But you have your own difficulties trying to bridge the gap between you and Mia.”

Devlin smirked. By now, it seemed as though everyone knew his history with Mia.

Percy sobered slightly, but his voice remained sincere. "And before you doubt my intentions, I am truly interested in her. Completely enamored. I don’t do things just to piss off my father. I do what I want to do and help people in any way Ican." He gestured toward the school. "If I can give these kids an education—something that gives them a shot at more than what they were handed at birth—then my life will have been worthwhile."

Devlin nodded, a newfound respect settling in his chest. He stood, extending his hand. "It’s been nice to talk, Percy. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you." Percy shook his hand firmly. "If you can find out what’s going on and win back the beautiful Mia, I’ll be cheering in your corner."

Devlin gave him a small nod before turning away and walking toward the Jeep with a lighter step. His gut told him Percy wasn’t involved in the smuggling.

Glancing at his watch, he noted the time. Mia should be with Dr. München by now. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he started the engine, turning the Jeep toward the administrative area. He wanted to meet up with her before they went to speak with Moses.

Mia prided herself on maintaining a professional demeanor, especially in meetings with her superiors. But today, as she sat across from Dr. München in his cluttered office, she struggled to keep still. The need to rise and pace gnawed at her, restless energy buzzing beneath her skin. Instead, she shoved her hands beneath her legs, locking them in place to stop herself from fidgeting.

Across from her, Dr. München removed his glasses and wiped them carefully with a tissue, his movements slow and methodical. He replaced them and peered at her over the rim, his gaze sharp but not unkind.

"I know you're upset, Mia, and I share your displeasure," he said, his voice calm and measured. "What you are telling me only proves what we already know. Thefts are happening with the food supplies here at the camp, and at least some of it is heading over the border into the Congo."

"Yes." She nodded emphatically. "I just don’t know what to do about it."

"The investigators from the WFP have already installed some cameras, which is, of course, how you were able to see what happened." He set his hands on the desk, fingers steepled in thought. "I’ll contact Robert and find out who the drivers were. If we can ban them from our camp, then perhaps that might slow down the leakage of food away from the refugees."

She nodded again, a sense of relief flickering through her. "That’s what I was going to do. I can ask Robert if he will?—"

"Let me do it." He interrupted gently. "It should be a directive that comes from the top and not just a request from one section leader to another."

Mia hesitated but saw the wisdom in his words. She believed Robert would listen to her and understand the gravity of the situation once she presented all the information. But if Dr. München took charge of the matter, it would carry more authority. He could ensure the drivers were not just questioned but permanently barred from working in the camp.

"Yes, I see where that would be best," she said, nodding once more. She suddenly became aware of how often she was doing it, her head bobbing like one of the old dashboard toys. But her nervous energy wouldn’t settle, crackling through her veins like a live wire.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus. "Is it possible for us to request Ugandan police presence at the area where the food supplies are being taken to the lake?"

Dr. München sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin. "I have no authority to make such a request outside our camp’s borders, but I can certainly inform the Ugandan police. It is a central, unified force across the country, and I have met their commander, the inspector general of police."

As he pushed back from his desk and rose, Mia realized their meeting was over. She quickly stood as well, extending her hand. "Thank you, Dr. München, for your help."

He walked around the desk and clasped her hand firmly before gesturing toward the door. She smiled, offering a polite goodbye before stepping out into the hallway.

Mia moved briskly down the hall, her thoughts already jumping to the next task. She was almost to the lobby when a realization struck her—she should’ve asked about speaking to Moses.

She hesitated. Would it be overstepping if she brought it up now? Dr. München had taken charge of speaking to Robert, clearly preferring that the chain of command remain intact. Would he also want to handle Moses himself? Indecision warred within her, but finally, she turned back. She wouldn’t know unless she asked.

Walking purposely, she retraced her steps to his office and lifted her hand to knock. She paused when she noticed the door was slightly ajar. She hesitated, not wanting to interrupt. But then she heard his voice, low and distinct.

"Yes, that’s what I said," Dr. München murmured into the phone. "She’s getting close, and I want it taken care of."

Mia froze. Her heart slammed against her ribs, breath catching in her throat.

She couldn’t make out the muffled response on the other end. Then came the unmistakable click of the old-fashioned phone mouthpiece settling into its cradle.

She’s getting close?Was he talking about her? A chill crawled down her spine.

Mia lowered her hand without making a sound and took a slow step back from the door. Her pulse pounded in her ears, each thud echoing in the silence of the hallway. She barely breathed as she retreated, her movements careful. It wasn’t until she reached the far end of the corridor that she turned and hurried toward the exit.

She’s getting close…Dr. München’s words rattled in her head, over and over, slithering through her thoughts. They could have meant anything. Anyone. But unease slid through her, sharp and insistent, making her question everything she thought she knew.

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