“I want to emphasize two things. First: the remains recovered are not those of Deputy Parker. Second: this is an active investigation. There are details we cannot and will not share publicly at this time—both to protect the integrity of the case and to protect any future prosecution.”
A WLOS reporter raised a hand, mic already live. “Agent Quinn,can you tell us if you believe the remains belong to a prior missing person from Jackson County?”
“I understand the question,” Tessa said evenly. “We will release an identification as soon as we have one confirmed through proper channels. Until then, it would be irresponsible to speculate.”
A WYFF reporter leaned in. “Do you believe Deputy Parker’s disappearance is connected to the remains?”
Tessa didn’t blink.
“We are treating the investigations as connected,” she said. “And we are working every lead with Sheriff Scott’s department.”
She stepped back.
Burke returned to the podium one last time.
“I’ll close with this,” he said. “You’re going to hear things. See posts online. Someone’s going to tell you what they ‘heard’ at the gas station.”
His eyes swept the crowd—steady, firm.
“I’m asking you—don’t help the rumor mill do its worst work.
“If you have information—something you saw on Highway Seventy-Three, on Miller’s Ridge, anything that doesn’t sit right with you—call us. Don’t put it on Facebook. Don’t turn it into a story. Bring it to my office. Bring it to Agent Quinn’s team.”
His voice went rougher, more personal.
“Sara Parker has shown up for this county more times than we can count. It’s our turn to show up for her.”
He nodded once, final.
“That’s all I can say for now.”
Reporters shouted follow-ups.
Scout was already there when the microphones cut off—just behind the line of deputies, hat off now, posture straight, jaw clean-shaven.
He hadn’t looked that way earlier.
When a reporter edged too close, Scout stepped forward without hesitation, placing himself between the microphones and thepodium. Close enough that she caught it—the faint scent of aftershave beneath cold air and wool.
He’d taken the time.
Not for show.
For steadiness.
For the town.
He met her eyes for a brief second. Calm. Unreadable. Holding.
The look lasted half a second longer than it needed to.
“We good?” he asked quietly.
“For now,” she said.
His nod was small but certain before he turned toward the courthouse doors.
Tessa fell into step beside him.
