Sheriff Burke Scott.
Tessa stared at the screen for a beat, chest still tight, eyes still tired.
Good. Work. Something she could handle.
She straightened, wiped her face, and picked up.
“Quinn.” Her voice came out calm. Controlled. Professional.
“We’ve got a situation up in Sylva,” Burke said. “Human remains. Badge found at the scene—Sara Parker’s.”
Tessa’s blood went cold. Exhaustion vanished. Her mind snapped into order—scene control, perimeter, ME, K-9s, cell ping, timeline.
“Text me coordinates and scene status,” she said. “I’ll head out within the hour.”
“Appreciate it.”
The line went dead.
Tessa sat there one beat longer, the quiet stretching wide around her.
Then she stood. Grabbed her duffel. Field jacket. Tallulah’s carrier.
“You’re coming too, partner.”
Tallulah blinked once, unbothered.
Tessa brushed cat hair from her sleeve. “State agent, covered in fur. Very professional.”
She shoved a protein bar into her pocket. “Guess that’s breakfast.”
The door shut behind them.
Now
Back on Highway 74 West, fog thinned as the ridges opened enough to glimpse the valley below.
Somewhere out there lay Sylva—Burke, Caitlin, Scout Wilson… and now a deputy whose badge had been left beside a stranger’s bones.
Tessa’s eyes narrowed on the stretch of highway ahead.
No more women swallowed by mountains and bad men.
No more names turned into file numbers.
Hang on, Sara.
I’m not letting you disappear.
4
Deputy Scout Wilson — Sara's Empty Cruiser
By the time Scout made it back to Highway 73, the fog had thickened again—heavy and wet, clinging to the trees like it didn’t want to let go.
Sara’s cruiser sat exactly where she always parked it, tucked beneath the hemlocks in her favorite hidey hole. The spot was so familiar it had become a joke in the department.
Tourists never saw it coming.
