“Bryson City too,” Scout said. “I remember seeing one at a trailhead.”
“People talked,” Jenkins said. “Mostly about Mercer.”
“No one ever proved anything,” Burke said sharply.
He regretted the edge in his voice the second it came out.
Because that was the problem.
Nobody had.
Luke looked back down at the file.
“Mercer cooperated. Interview. Polygraph. DNA. No charges.”
“Didn’t stop the town from deciding,” Scout said.
“Or the internet,” Sara added.
Burke looked from face to face.
“Reporters are already calling. Records requests are coming next. And by tomorrow, every true-crime account in the country is going to be convinced we buried something.”
Luke closed the folder.
“So what do you want us to do?”
Burke didn’t hesitate.
“Open it.”
Scout glanced up.
“For real?”
“For real.”
Burke tapped the file.
“You and Hale take another run at it. Start from the beginning. Don’t assume the old answers are right just because they’re old.”
Luke straightened a little in his chair.
“Where do you want us to start?”
“The car. The timeline. Mercer. Anybody still alive who talked back then.”
He looked at Sara.
“And you.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Me?”
“You work the people side. Re-read every witness statement. Go talk to Caroline’s family. See what eight years and one podcast changed.”
Something flickered across Sara’s face—surprise, then purpose.
