“He knows things he shouldn’t,” Burke said. His voice was low, even, dangerous. “About her. About you.”
Scout didn’t take his eyes off the bag.
“Closer than we thought,” Burke said.
Scout’s voice was flat. Controlled. “He put this on my personal vehicle. He walked right up to it.”
Burke nodded once. “He knew exactly which car was yours.”
Scout’s eyes narrowed in calculation.
“This is personal now.”
Burke didn’t argue. “Let’s get this inside. Crime lab needs it immediately.”
They headed inside.
At the door, Scout paused for half a second—the only concession he allowed to how close and brazen this move had been.
Then he opened his eyes again.
Hard.
Clear.
Focused.
“No more courtesy,” Scout said. “We start squeezing them.”
Burke grabbed his radio. “Raines first. Then Margot Holt.”
38
North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation Arrives — Sheriff’s Department
Three black SUVs rolled into the lot. No lights. No sirens.
Conservative. Controlled. Intentional.
Deputies near the cruisers went quiet. Conversations cut off mid-sentence. One patrolman straightened. Another shoved his hands into his vest.
Denton and McHan stepped out in SBI jackets. Different posture now.
The first vehicle stopped. The rear door opened. A tall man stepped out.
“Sheriff Scott. Deputy Wilson. Michael Ray Tucker. SBI, Raleigh.”
Handshakes—firm. Professional. Brief.
Burke met Tucker’s grip without hesitation. No stiffness. No challenge.
“Appreciate you getting here quickly,” Burke said evenly. He meant it.
“Denton and McHan briefed me en route,” Tucker replied. “We’re current on Deputy Parker and Special Agent Quinn.”
Behind him, agents exited in coordinated motion. Gear cases. Tablets. Quiet efficiency.
County deputies watched.
