Scout’s tone stayed mild. “Afternoon, Mr. McCauley. Got a warrant for your arrest.”
“Like hell you do.” He spat to the side. “Paper don’t mean shit out here.”
Sara took a step forward. “Violation of probation. You can come peacefully, or we can do this the hard way.”
His lip curled. “Try it.”
Scout’s hand hovered near his holster. “Don’t be stupid,” he said evenly. “Your mama’s still up the road, ain’t she? You really want her seeing you dragged out in cuffs?”
Something flickered in McCauley’s eyes—anger, shame, calculation. For a second she thought he’d bolt. Instead, with a string of curses, he shoved the screen door wide and stepped out. Scout cuffed him before he could change his mind. “Smart choice.”
Sara exhaled only when the cruiser door clanged shut.
“Nice work,” Scout said as they slid into their seats.
“You did the talking.”
“Talking’s half the job,” he said, settling his hat low. “But you stood your ground. That counts.”
The cruiser rattled over potholes, the hounds’ barking fading into distance. The silence between them thrummed. Since her training days, she’d admired him—maybe more than she should. He was solid where she was still learning, unflinching where she sometimes second-guessed. And she never let it show.
Back at the sheriff’s office, the conference room was cramped, blinds half-closed against the late sun. Burke stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled, fatigue from too many long nights etched around his eyes. “Appreciate the pickup,” he said, nodding to Sara and Scout. “We’re trying something new—cold cases. Each of you take one. Work it when you’ve got desk time. Maybe fresh eyes shake something loose.”
Sara reached for a folder—heavier than she expected. Scout did the same, dropping his on the table with a quiet thud.
“Keep it close,” Burke added. “Don’t trade, don’t swap. Make it yours, and see where it leads.”
Sara didn’t open it there—not with Scout watching. But later, at home, she would.
In her small apartment above the hardware store, she kicked off her boots, hung her duty belt by the door, and carried the folder to her desk by the window. Outside, Main Street glowed with lamplight, the mountains turning purple against the night.
She sat with the folder in her lap, thumb brushing the cardboard edge. Then she opened it.
Lauren Pierce. Age twenty-four. Administrative assistant, Jackson Valley University.
She flipped through the pages—an ID photo clipped to the inside, a candid shot at a campus event, a summary report. Last seen leaving Stillwell Hall after six p.m., March 2023. Co-workers described her as reliable, organized—the kind of person who kept three professors on schedule and smiling.
Initial chatter on campus leaned toward a voluntary disappearance: a note to a friend about “needing a reset,” a lease gone month-to-month.
Then a supplemental note: a deputy had logged a personal journal found behind a row of binders. Handwritten entries about burnout. A half-formed plan to “start over at a different university.” And between the lines—careful references to a relationship with an assistant coach. No names. No accusation.
Most people had decided she’d left on her own.
Sara studied Lauren’s photo—focused, a little tired, the kind of smile you wear when you’re trying to keep up. Something about it snagged her. Twenty-four. An adult with reasons to go—but also roots. Work keys, friends, routines you didn’t abandon without leaving prints.
Her pen tapped against the desk, sharp and steady. Everyone had let the wordvoluntarydo too much work here. She didn’t buy it. Not yet.
She closed the folder. Tomorrow she’d start small—background, professors, the athletics office, the friend who’d received the “reset” message. Quiet questions. Nothing official yet. But she’d work it. She owed the woman that much.
Sara squared her shoulders. If nobody else was going to look for Lauren Pierce, she would. Alone if she had to.
Down on Main Street, a pair of headlights cut through the dark, then disappeared. Somewhere out there, someone knew what had happened to Lauren Pierce. Sara would find them—even if it meant doing it alone.
Chapter 29
Obsession
Izzy & Evan
