Not the time to notice any of it.
"I'll get you those security logs," she says, voice carefully neutral. "Give me an hour."
"Appreciated."
She leaves the office. I watch her go, then force my attention back to the evidence spread across the desk.
Focus. This is about trafficking. About finding Emma's killers. About stopping an operation that's been moving people through these mountains for God knows how long.
My phone buzzes. Wells.
"Sheriff, we got a problem. Viktor Petrov's gone."
"Gone how?"
"Disappeared from the hospital. Someone signed him out AMA an hour ago. Security footage shows two men escorting him. He didn't look like he was going voluntarily."
My chest tightens. "Description of the men?"
"Both large. Professional build. One of them had a visible sidearm."
The trafficking network just reclaimed their victim. Which means they know we're investigating. Know we found Viktor. And if they know that, they know about Harlow.
"Wells, I need you at the mining site now. Armed. We might have hostiles in the area."
"Copy that. En route."
I hang up and move to the window. Scan the compound. Nothing looks out of place. But traffickers don't advertise their presence.
The door opens. Harlow returns with a laptop and hard drive.
"Got the logs. Going back eight months instead of six. Figured more data is—" She stops. Reads my expression. "What happened?"
"Viktor Petrov was taken from the hospital an hour ago. Two men, at least one of them was armed, probably both."
"They're cleaning up loose ends."
"And we're on the list. You found him. I'm investigating. We're both problems they'll want to eliminate."
She sets the laptop down. Moves to the window beside me. Scans the compound with the same tactical awareness I'm using.
"How long until your deputy gets here?" she asks.
"Twenty minutes."
"Then we have twenty minutes to secure this location and figure out if they're already here."
No panic. No fear. Just an immediate shift into tactical mode.
Former FBI. Crisis trained. She's done this before.
"Lock the doors," I say. "I'll check the perimeter."
She's already moving. "Watch the north access points. If they're coming, that's where they'll approach."
I head outside, hand on my sidearm. The compound is quiet. Any day shift workers should be here by now. The equipment yard should have noise, movement, the diesel smell of machinery warming up.
Instead, nothing.
