Clean.
Burke walked the length of the building, slower now.
Looking for anything out of place.
The space was wrong.
Burke walked past the stacked fertilizer bags, scanning the floor, the walls, the seams where something should’ve been.
Nothing.
Behind him, Scout Wilson stood near the row of pallets.
“It was here,” Scout said.
Burke looked at him.
“Third row. Back corner. I cut into it myself.”
He pointed.
“They were stacked right there.”
Nothing but clean concrete.
“They moved it,” Burke said.
Scout didn’t argue.
“They had to,” he replied. “No aircraft activity since I pulled the sample.”
“They didn’t fly it out.” Burke’s eyes shifted.
“Truck,” he said.
Scout gave a slight nod. “Only way.”
A deputy stepped up behind them.
“Sheriff… we’re clear across the structure.”
Burke didn’t respond right away.
He kept looking at that empty space.
“They knew we were coming.”
Burke didn’t move.
“Or someone told them.”
The last cruiser rolled through the gate, the chain clanking back into place behind them. Burke didn’t pull away right away. His hands rested on the wheel, eyes fixed ahead on nothing. They’d walked every inch of that place and found nothing.
He shifted into gear.
The convoy rolled out slowly.
As they rounded the bend, the main house came into view up on the rise.
