Chapter 33
Sheriff’s Office — Morning
Scout leaned against the edge of the evidence table, half-reading a file, half-listening for the door.
He hadn’t slept much, but he felt better than he had in days.
Last night had taken the edge off something raw between them.
And for the first time since Sara disappeared, he could feel the case tightening—like they were finally close enough to grab it.
Tessa was late.
Not by much at first. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen. She was usually early—organized, precise.
She’d texted him last night. Home. All good.
“Traffic off the ridge’s rough this time of morning,” McHan said.
Scout didn’t answer.
Kyle started pacing. “I’ll text her.”
He typed fast, then stopped, staring at the screen. Waited. Nothing.
A thread of unease pulled tight in Scout’s chest. He pulled out his own phone, thumb hovering.
You OK?
He watched the screen. No reply.
Burke came in from his office, coat half on. “What’s going on?”
“Tessa’s not here yet,” Scout said. “No answer to my text.”
Burke frowned, grabbed the phone from his desk. “She’s probably fine, but I’ll call.”
He dialed. Waited. Voicemail.
He hung up and tried again. Same thing.
Kyle shook his head, voice tight. “I’ve never known her to be late. Not once. Not in the two and a half years I’ve worked with her.”
Burke looked up, eyes hard now. “McHan, call Deputy Hensley—he was stationed near Cloud Gap last night, right?”
McHan nodded, already dialing. A moment later, he said, “Yeah. He says Agent Quinn dismissed him around nine-thirty. Told him she was fine and to head back.”
The words dropped heavy into the silence.
Scout was already moving. “I’m driving.”
Burke grabbed his radio. “Let’s roll. McHan, notify dispatch we’re heading to Cloud Gap Cabin. Possible 10-54. Get forensics on standby.”
Cloud Gap Cabin — Later That Morning
The narrow road was slick with dew, sunlight cutting between the trees as the convoy rounded the last turn. Scout hadn’t relaxed once the entire drive. Tessa’s SUV sat in the gravel drive, crusted with road salt.
“Her vehicle’s here,” McHan said quietly.
Scout killed the engine as Burke stepped out. “Alright, slow and steady. Scout, you’re on point. Kyle, back him up.”
Scout’s boots hit the porch hard. He tried the door—unlocked. Something cold settled low in his gut.
He looked at Burke. “Unlocked.”
Burke nodded once. “Announce.”
Scout raised his voice. “Sheriff’s Department! Agent Quinn!”
Silence.
He called again, louder. “Tessa! Sheriff’s Department!”
No answer.
They went in.
The cabin was still. A coffee mug sat half-full on the counter, cold. Her tote bag rested by the table, laptop open, a glass of wine nearby. The Bluetooth speaker blinked blue on standby. Sam Cooke’s playlist still sat open on the laptop, waiting.
“Place looks undisturbed,” McHan said.
Kyle’s voice was low, strained. “That’s her bag. Her files.”
Something small moved by the couch—Tallulah, her head poking out from behind a pillow, eyes wide. Scout crouched for half a second, murmuring, “Hey, sweetheart,” before the job slammed back into him.
They cleared the kitchen. Bathroom. Guest room. Nothing.
Then Scout stopped outside the master bedroom door.
“Burke.”
Burke came up beside him. The door stood cracked, just enough to show the edge of the bed.
Inside, a shape lay beneath the covers.
Still.
Burke’s voice dropped low. “On three.”
“One.”
Scout adjusted his grip.
“Two—”
He pushed the door wide, weapon low.
Morning light filtered through the curtains, thin and colorless. The room smelled faintly sweet—something chemical beneath clean linen.
The figure didn’t move.
A body-shaped rise beneath the blanket. One arm visible against the sheet. Hair spread across the pillow.
Scout’s pulse thudded once, hard.
“Tessa,” he said—quiet. Controlled.
Nothing.
Burke stepped closer. “Agent Quinn?”
Silence.
He reached down and pulled the blanket back.
For a split second, Scout’s brain refused the image.
Then it snapped into place.
Not Tessa.
Sara Parker lay there.
Alive.
Breathing shallowly. Skin pale but unmarked. Hair brushed. Clothes arranged with deliberate care—placed, not left.
Returned.
McHan went still. “She’s alive.”
Burke’s voice sharpened. “Drugged. Get EMS. Now. Lock this place down.”
He looked at Scout.
“Scout… she’s not here.”
The words hit harder than anything in the room.
Scout stared at the empty space beside the bed where Tessa should have been.
This wasn’t rescue.
It was exchange.
Burke’s radio crackled. “Dispatch, this is Burke. Agent Quinn is unaccounted for. Initiate missing-person protocol.”
Tessa was gone.