She shook it off.
Nights like this always made her think of Lauren Pierce.
A thin file. A dead end. A girl who’d driven into the dark and never come back.
The case had gone cold—until Burke handed it to her.
She lifted her coffee as headlights crested the curve?—
Two quick flashes.
One long.
Unit Six.
Scout.
She keyed the mic.
“Unit Six, you done for the night?”
“Copy that, Three. Headed home before Burke finds me another paper trail.”
“Try not to speed,” she said lightly. “I’d hate to write you up.”
“Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. Night, Parker.”
“Night, Scout.”
His taillights slipped around the bend and vanished into the trees.
Silence rushed back in—too fast, too complete.
The radio crackled with routine chatter. Sara stretched, checked the radar gun.
Nothing.
She set it down and adjusted her holster, the motion automatic. Habit, not fear.
Sara pulled out her green notebook and jotted the time—2:47 a.m. The kind of detail that kept nights like this from blurring together.
Then—
Lights.
Two white orbs glowed deep among the trees behind her.
She stared?—
And they slipped deeper into the trees.
Too high for headlights.
Too steady to belong out here.
And they didn’t throw a beam—just hung there, like eyes.
For a second, she couldn’t move.
