“I don’t know,” he said. “I can’t see anyone.”
The tapping stopped.
Silence pulsed between heartbeats.
Then—
A light scraping sound traveled across the roof.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Like something—or someone—dragged metal across metal.
Tate cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Wolf was right. Multiple suspects, different positions.”
I blinked rapidly, my breath puffing in white clouds. “Sheriff—look.”
He followed my gaze to the windshield.
A smear.
Not random.
Someone had dragged their finger across the frost.
Leaving behind a shape:
A curve.
A line.
And another.
A new symbol.
Fresh.
And underneath it, a word written in clean, careful letters:
HELLO
My blood froze.
Sheriff Tate reached for the ignition. “We’re moving. Now.”
But the engine didn’t start.
He tried again.
Click.
Click.
Nothing.
“They cut the power,” he growled. “They were waiting.”
