“Riverbend isn’t some isolated patch of woods, is it?” Eleanor continued.
“No.”
“It’s a subdivision—with houses, workers, delivery trucks. A normal neighborhood.”
“Like any neighborhood,” Burke said.
“And that greenway area where the dogs alerted—has that been open to the public?”
“There’s a walking path through it,” Burke said. “Yes.”
“So in eight years, Sheriff, is it fair to say you cannot tell this jury who may have accessed that strip of woods besides Mr. Mercer?”
“I can’t account for every person who’s ever walked through there, no.”
“And you can’t tell them, based on your investigation alone, exactly when Caroline’s remains were placed in that ground.”
“No,” Burke said. “That’s not my call. That’s Dr. Cade’s field.”
Eleanor nodded once.
“Thank you, Sheriff. No further questions.”
She sat.
Burke stepped down.
Jackson County Superior Court
Late Afternoon
The State’s case was building—piece by piece—but every witness still left a seam Eleanor could pry at.
Across the aisle, she could hear Reid—papers sliding into his briefcase, a low word to Burke, the familiar rhythm of his day ending without her.
The distance between them held as steady as the record.
Judge Harlan checked the clock on the wall, then looked back to the jury box.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to break for the day,” he said. “Remember my earlier instructions: do not discuss the case among yourselves or with anyone else, do not consume any media coverage about this matter, and do not form or express any opinions until you’ve heard all the evidence and my instructions on the law.”
He glanced toward the tables.
“Counsel, be prepared to resume with the State’s next witness at nine a.m. tomorrow.”
He lifted the gavel.
“Court is adjourned for today.”
The gavel cracked once.
Chairs scraped. Voices rose in a low stir as the jurors were led out. Reporters immediately leaned toward one another, already framing the day for their deadlines. Deputies began their end-of-day routines—securing evidence, clearing the gallery.
Eleanor sat for a moment longer than she needed to, fingers resting on the edge of the defense table.
The room wavered at the edges of her vision.
Her stomach rolled, a slow, sour twist that had nothing to do with what she’d eaten and everything to do with the weight behind her ribs.
