“Vanessa.”
Sloane does not blink. “Yes.”
Kara looks away. I want to step in front of that hurt. Take the impact. Redirect it. Do something. I stay where I am because this is not a threat I can block with my body.
Sloane softens his voice by a fraction.
“Kara, this does not mean we believe your best friend hurt you. It means we do not clear people based on love.”
Kara wraps her arms around herself. “She called when we were leaving. I didn’t answer.”
“Good.”
“She’ll be worried.”
“Probably.”
Kara lets out a breath that sounds like it scrapes on the way up. “Everything feels wrong.”
“I know,” Sloane says.
“You don’t, though.”
The room goes quiet. Then Sloane removes his sunglasses.
“No,” he says. “Not exactly. But I know what it feels like when the map you trusted turns out to be wrong.”
Kara looks at him. Something passes between them. I don’t know what. I’m not meant to.
Sloane puts the sunglasses back on and turns to me. “Eli has deputies on the dune path. They found impressions but too much sand shift for a clean print. Possible tire marks near the service pull-off east of the cottage. Rafi’s checking traffic cams.”
“Car?” I ask.
“Plate came back to a rental. Orlando pickup. Cash deposit with prepaid card. ID may be fake.”
Kara makes a small sound. I look at her. She has gone pale again.
“Orlando,” she says.
Sloane nods. “Yes.”
“So this is someone from home.”
“It looks that way.”
Sloane stays another ten minutes. He gives instructions, confirms Eli will keep a unit rotating nearby, and tells Kara that Rafi is trying to recover any camera angle from the inn road, The Sandpiper road, Bluefin Marina, and the convenience store near Orlando where the first burner activated.
Useful honesty, but no dramatic promises.
When he leaves, the cottage feels way too quiet.
Kara stands by the table, staring aimlessly.
“You can text Vanessa from my phone,” I say.
Her eyes lift.
“We keep it simple. You’re safe. Security moved you as a precaution. You’ll call when you can. No location. No details.”
