Scout nodded once.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We find her.”
Burke kept his hand on Scout’s shoulder as they walked down the hall.
53
Deputy Scout Wilson — His Cabin
Scout drove home seething, knowing Raines had Tessa’s location and that the badge was the only thing keeping him from beating it out of him.
The curves and drop-offs blurred past. His hands locked on the wheel.
Go home. Shower. Close your eyes for an hour.
He’d nodded.
He’d walked out of the station with blood still hot, nerves shot—Raines hitting the wall, the flash of fear when the professor realized he wasn’t bluffing
He wasn’t proud of it.
He wasn’t sorry.
Not with Tessa out there and the clock running out.
The drive up the mountain dragged.
The worst part wasn’t the silence.
It was what his mind did with it.
If Raines was the one—and he was sitting in a cell right nowwaiting on a lawyer—then Tessa was alone somewhere, locked in a room.
Scout pictured it anyway. The images wouldn’t let go.
A door that didn’t open.
Tessa would be fighting to stay sharp, calm, cataloging anything she could use.
But even the toughest woman in the world still needed water. Still needed food.
Sara had said there’d been supplies. How long before the food ran out? Before panic set in? Before the cold reality hit that no one was coming fast enough?
Gravel crunched under his tires as he pulled into the drive after dusk, headlights washing over the cabin and dying into the trees. Porch light off. Windows dark.
He killed the engine and sat for a second, forcing a slow breath.
Then he saw it.
A white envelope on the top step. Centered.
He was out of the truck before he could think twice, boots hitting the ground, flashlight and weapon both up as he cut the dark in quick, sharp sweeps.
Left. Right. Tree line. Brush. Edge of the ridge.
Nothing.
No movement. No sound.
