FREE THE VALLEY GHOST.
Wrong case. Wrong county. Still good on camera.
Sheriff Burke Scott stood near the railing, arms crossed, hat low against the glare.
Scout Wilson leaned against a column, scanning faces.
Deputy Luke Hale was fielding questions near the sidewalk, calm as ever.
Reid descended the steps.
Burke met him halfway.
“This is getting out of hand,” Burke said quietly.
Reid glanced at the crowd. “It’s a festival now.”
“Festival’s fine,” Burke replied. “It’s the edges I don’t like.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’ve got people filing public records requests on cases they read about on Reddit.”
Reid’s brow lifted. “Sinclair?”
“And Lauren Pierce,” Burke said. “And anything else with the word ‘disappearance’ attached to it.”
Sinclair. His tightest case on the board. The one holding up half his reelection pitch and what was left of the Pierce family’s patience.
“I get Sinclair. Lauren Pierce. Missing women. Hell, I even get the ghost-tour nonsense.” He tipped his hat back a fraction. “But what’s Harper got to do with any of it?”
Reid’s expression closed slightly.
“I think she handled a case in Charleston,” he said. “Something high-profile. Something they’ve decided fits their story.”
Burke glanced toward the camera crews and banners crowding the square.
“Well,” he muttered, tugging the brim of his cap low again, “I’ll be glad when this whole damn circus packs up and heads back to South Carolina.”
Reid’s attention shifted to Lila’s crew.
“They’re pushing?”
“They’ve already filed,” Burke said. “Sinclair file. Interview transcripts. Forensics summaries. Anything they can spin.”
“Those records aren’t public,” Reid said.
“Correct.”
“And?”
“And I don’t intend to make them public,” Burke replied evenly. “But that won’t stop them from asking.”
Reid exhaled slowly.
“You want more deputies on these steps?” Burke asked.
Reid didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. It’s starting to look like we may need it.”
