Chapter 28
After the Sinclair Interview
By the time Burke cleared the driveway, Tessa’s phone had buzzed half a dozen times—Kyle.
Where are you? We need to talk. I’m at Catch My Draft.
She ignored it.
Later, when the station lights dimmed, another message lit her screen.
I’m still here.
Then she grabbed her coat and keys.
Downtown Sylva — Early Evening
The storm had broken, leaving a low mist clinging to the mountains.
Christmas lights blinked along Main. Fewer people lingered on the sidewalks than there should’ve been this close to Christmas.
She paused in front of Two Cats and a Dog, the window display—a tiny Christmas tree trimmed with ribbon leashes and biscuits tied like ornaments. She pushed the door open, a brass bell chiming overhead.
Inside, she picked up a soft duck-shaped toy for Tallulah, then noticed a hand-tied bone stacked near the counter.
A familiar voice called from the next aisle. “Well, if that’s for the department’s GSD, better grab the biggest one they’ve got—he’s all muscle.”
Tessa turned. “MaryLou! Hi.”
MaryLou Johnson, director of the Jackson County Visitor Center, stood a shopping basket over her arm. Beside her was Ned from Moonshine Creek Campground, laughing as two tiny Yorkies peeked out of his jacket pockets.
“Tessa,” MaryLou said, her smile barely there. “How are you doing, honey? With everything that’s happened…”
“We’re managing,” Tessa said. “But the department’s running on fumes. Everyone is.”
Some of the light eased out of MaryLou’s face. “I’ll bet,” she said quietly. “After the news about Lauren Pierce… folks are rattled.”
Tessa’s fingers tightened around the toy. “Yeah.”
"People keep asking at the Center. They’re on edge.”
Tessa hesitated. “We’re—” She stopped herself.
MaryLou caught it immediately and winced. “Listen to me, running my mouth. I know you can’t talk about it.”
At the register, Tessa paid for the toys and a dog treat for Ruger, the jingle of the drawer sounding loud in the calm. For a second, she imagined what normal felt like—Christmas errands, friendly faces, no missing deputies or empty cabins.
God, let us bring Sara home before Christmas. Please let her be alive.
She stepped outside, the glow from the pet shop soft behind her. Down the block, the neon sign for Catch My Draft shimmered through the haze—her next stop, and a conversation she wasn’t ready for.
Catch My Draft Bar
The bar’s windows glowed through the mist, strings of white lights outlining the front awning. A couple laughed as they ducked inside, leaving a swirl of cold air and pine-scented rain behind them.
The place was alive and humming—low laughter, the clink of glasses, a band poster curling on the wall.
Kyle was already there at a back booth, jacket draped over the seat.
An empty pint glass sat near his hand, condensation ringed on the table, and a second—half full—waited where she would’ve sat. He’d been there a while.
He smiled, tentative. “You look good, Tess.”
“Long week,” she said, tugging off her gloves.
“Yeah,” he said. “I miss this. Us.” He looked down at his hands, thumb rubbing at the edge of the coaster. “I keep thinking about the night I told you I didn’t want to play second to your job.” His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “That was me being scared, not honest.”
She watched him for a beat, the words landing heavier than she wanted them to. “You hurt me,” she said quietly. “But… I appreciate you saying that.”
Before she could answer anything else, the door opened.
A rush of cold air swept through—and with it, Scout Wilson. He strode toward the bar, scanning for Mike Stevens. His focus didn’t land on her immediately.
Kyle’s smile faltered as her posture shifted, her attention pulled elsewhere.
And when Scout finally turned, his gaze caught hers across the crowded bar.
Kyle’s voice sliced through the moment. “Guess I’ve got my answer.”
Tessa’s stomach knotted. The air between them went sharp. “You didn’t have to come if you knew how this would go.”
Without a word, she reached for her coat and slid from the booth.
“Maybe not,” she murmured.
She moved quickly, the paper bag from the pet shop still in her hand. Scout turned again in time to see her slip out the door.
He looked back toward Kyle. The man was still sitting in the booth, elbows on the table, gaze locked on Scout—steady, unflinching.
Neither spoke.
Scout lifted his beer, finished it in one long swallow.
Kyle stood abruptly, the chair legs scraping against the wood. “Enjoy those two nights up there?”
Scout paused mid-step, not turning yet. The room went still.
Kyle took a slow step forward. “You think I don’t know what people are saying? Snowed in, storm raging, the hero deputy and the pretty agent. You make a move, Wilson?”
Scout turned then—calm, deliberate. His voice stayed level. “You got something worth asking, ask it.”
Kyle smirked. “I’m wondering how a man keeps his hands to himself that long.”
Scout set his glass down. The muscles in his forearm tightened once around the glass before he released it. He didn’t move closer, didn’t raise his voice—just met Kyle’s stare until the smirk faltered.
“When you’ve been shot at in the dark, Agent Denton, you learn the difference between wanting something and needing it. I needed us alive. That’s all you need to know.”
Kyle’s mouth opened like he wanted to push it further, but he didn’t.
Scout stepped past him—close enough that Kyle caught the low warning in his tone.
“Careful.”
Then Scout turned and walked out. He didn’t look back.
Tessa
Tessa pushed through the bar’s door into the chilly evening air, Her steps quickened on the slick sidewalk. She hadn’t meant to leave so fast, but she couldn’t have stayed—not with the weight of Kyle’s resentment or the shock in Scout’s eyes when their gazes met.
She paused beneath an awning. She caught her reflection in the glass and barely recognized the woman looking back.
She couldn’t hear a word from inside the bar. But she could still hear the way Scout had spoken in that cabin—steady, restrained, painfully honest.
A faint train whistle carried through the darkness—distant, lonely, swallowed by the mountains. She held onto the sound, letting it anchor her.
Then she stepped toward her SUV.
She didn’t know what came next.
Only that she couldn’t stand still anymore.
Somewhere in the dark, Sara Parker was still waiting.