He set it on the desk.
Scout shifted in his chair.
“Caroline Simms.”
Burke gave a brief nod.
“Eight years ago.”
Scout rubbed his neck.
“Highway Seventy-Four,” Burke said.
Scout leaned forward.
“I remember the call going out.”
Burke flipped open the folder.
“Purse on the passenger seat,” he said.
Scout nodded once.
“Keys in the console.”
Burke grunted his agreement.
“Car seat in the back.”
“Nobody in it,” Scout added.
“Her little boy.”
Burke closed the file again.
“We weren’t on the case yet,” Scout said. “Burton had the senior deputies running point.”
Burke tipped his head in agreement.
“But he had everyone searching.”
Scout gave a low, rough sound that might have been a laugh.
“Your dad had half the county walking those roads.”
Burton Scott hadn’t slept for nearly two days during that search.
They both remembered it. Flashlights sweeping the roadside. Volunteers combing fields. Flyers taped to gas pumps, diner windows, church bulletin boards all over Jackson County.
And just as fast as the family put them up, someone would take them down again.
“Story was she’d run off with some guy from Knoxville,” Scout said quietly. “Left the baby. Left everything.”
Burke stared down at the file for a beat.
“Her folks never believed that,” he said. “They still don’t.”
Scout eased back in his chair.
