But Evan Cole knew the game had only begun.
And the more afraid they became, the easier it would be to break them.
Chapter 31
Fragments
Sheriff Burke Scott
The conference room smelled of burnt coffee—the same as when his father wore the badge. Burke leaned on the edge of the table, arms crossed, watching his deputies settle in.
Scout dropped into a chair, toothpick shifting in the corner of his mouth. Sara Parker, sharp-eyed and methodical, clicked her pen open, ready to take notes. Jack Baker, broad and steady, looked more rested these days—ever since Rosie retired. His new partner, a young German Shepherd named Ruger, lay at his feet, ears flicking at every sound. Carl Jenkins and Mike Reardon came in last, bringing the headcount to six.
Burke nodded. “Appreciate y’all coming in early. Three break-ins in as many weeks—back doors forced, drawers rifled through, nothing major stolen. Folks are rattled, especially tourists.”
Scout tipped his chair back a notch. “Same kind of entry each time. Whoever it is knows how to work a slider lock.”
“Kids?” Carl asked. “Teenagers pulling pranks?”
Sara shook her head. “Not buying it. Too clean. No vandalism, no smashed glass. Whoever’s doing it wants to get in, get out, and stay unseen.”
Jack grunted. “Sounds more like a pro passing through. I’ve seen it before—somebody casing places, looking for a bigger score.”
Burke listened, gaze moving from one to the next. Each had a point. He tapped the table, drawing them back in.
“Either way, folks are nervous. So we step it up—more patrols in the neighborhoods off Main, more eyes around the museum and courthouse. And if you see somebody hanging around who doesn’t belong, don’t shrug it off. Too clean means it isn’t random—it’s personal to somebody.”
Reardon raised a brow. “You thinking someone specific?”
Burke hesitated, Darcy’s face flashing in his mind—her nerves, the way her eyes darted to shadows. “Not yet. But I’ve got a feeling something’s coming.”
The door opened behind him. A man stepped in—tall, early thirties, lean build beneath a navy button-down, carrying the quiet confidence of someone who’d seen plenty.
Burke glanced back. “That’ll be Luke Hale. Came over from Asheville PD—we’re looking at bringing him on as investigator.”
Luke gave a polite nod toward the group. “Morning.”
Sara returned it, a flicker of curiosity before she looked away.
Burke gestured toward the hall. “We’ll talk in a bit, Luke.”
“Yessir.” Luke backed out, closing the door behind him.
Burke turned back to his team. “Alright, where were we?”
The room settled again, a low murmur as assignments passed around. Ruger lifted his head, alert but calm. Burke let it play out, unease settling heavy in his gut. Break-ins weren’t unusual—but the pattern, the timing—it all felt too close to home.
And for the first time in years, the thought of someone else’s safety—hersafety—kept him awake at night.
Darcy
The museum buzzed with footsteps and voices as tourists wandered through Darcy’s newest exhibits. Pride and nerves tangled in her chest as she guided Izzy past displays of photographs, beadwork, and carved tools.
“This section opened last week,” Darcy said, her voice alive with excitement. “Some of these pieces sat in storage for decades.”
Izzy smiled. “You did well, Cate. This is beautiful.”
But Darcy went rigid when her eyes caught a familiar figure—a tall man, angled slightly away but unmistakable. She remembered him from Catch My Draft, the one Izzy had danced with. Now he stood with his phone lifted just so.
