“Oh, right. Here comes Saint Scout.” Kyle’s laugh was jagged. Bitter. “Swooping in after I walked out.”
“You walked out. Didn’t like that she outranked you. Didn’t like that she wouldn’t shrink.”
Kyle’s face twisted. “She talked about you. And Burke. And this whole little mountain town like it was some fairy tale that fixed people.”
“She talked about her work. Her cases. She was proud of what she did.” Scout’s gaze hardened. “You tried to change her. That’s why she left.”
Kyle shoved him—more stumble than force.
Scout steadied him with hardly any effort. “Knock it off.”
Kyle sagged in his grip, hands trembling. “I should’ve been enough for her.”
Scout sighed. “That’s not how relationships work, Kyle.”
Kyle scrubbed both hands over his face. “She’s gone, Scout.”
The words hit hard. Scout swallowed once. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re going to find her.”
Kyle’s voice cracked. “I didn’t take her. I just… I messed everything up.”
“I know.” Scout caught him before he pitched forward. “Kyle—look at me.”
Kyle lifted his head, eyes red and unfocused.
“You need to get sober,” Scout said. “Right now. Michael Tucker—the big boss from Raleigh—is walking back into this station in the morning. If you show up drunk, he’ll bury you.”
Kyle winced like Tucker’s name was a slap.
“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Scout continued, voice lowand firm. “I’m driving you to your hotel. You’re going to sleep it off, drink water, take a shower, and pull yourself together. You hear me?”
Kyle nodded once. Defeated.
Scout guided him toward the truck. “Come on,” he said, opening the passenger door. “Let’s get you out of here before someone else sees you like this.”
Kyle climbed in and slumped against the seat.
Scout shut the door and scanned the dark lot.
By the time he drove Kyle back to the hotel and finally headed home, Tuesday had bled into Wednesday. Heavy. Sleepless.
Scout wasn’t doing much better.
Every hour that passed felt like a clock counting down on something he couldn’t afford to lose.
Sheriff Burke Scott — Wednesday Morning
The morning mist still clung to the ridgelines when Caitlin slipped into the passenger seat and Rosie hopped into the back before Burke had even closed his door. The retired K-9 rested her chin on the console like it was her sworn duty to monitor the road.
Burke glanced over. “What’s on your agenda today?”
Caitlin smiled, the kind that quietly lit her whole face. “It’s Wednesday—Ladies’ Book Club at the museum. Loud, dramatic, over-caffeinated. My favorite kind of chaos.”
Some of Burke’s tension loosened. “They’re lucky to have you.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “And you’re exhausted.”
He didn’t deny it.
