Chapter 50
Reunion
Sheriff Burke Scott
The ride to the hospital was quiet except for Rosie’s low whine from the back seat. Her head on the console; every mile pulled at his chest. Jason West was out on bail. Two hundred fifty thousand dollars and a signature had bought the devil another sunrise.
Hospital lights came into view. Rosie’s ears pricked.
“Yeah, girl,” Burke muttered. “We’re here.”
The fluorescent hallway smelled faintly of bleach and overbrewed coffee. A janitor pushed a mop in slow arcs. The head nurse intercepted them at the desk, hands on hips.
“Sheriff Scott, no animals on the second floor.”
“She’s certified. The victim knows her. She stays on lead.”
“That dog sheds.”
“So do half my deputies.”
The nurse sighed but waved them through.
At Caitlin’s door, Sara Parker stood guard, hand on her holster. “Room’s clear. She’s stable—sedated again about an hour ago.”
Burke nodded. Rosie’s nose lifted, then the shepherd shoved the door open with a thud.
Caitlin
The hiss of oxygen. The steady blip of a monitor. White walls. Bandaged wrists. She didn’t know where she was—then memory slammed in: the cabin. Jason. The nightgown.
Adrenaline punched up her spine. The machines beeped harder.
The door bumped, then burst. Rosie launched onto the bed, tail a blur. Fur in her face, wet with slobber, Caitlin laughed—a raw, surprised sound that filled the room.
“Rosie—no!” Burke’s voice followed, rough with relief. The shepherd ignored him, licking Caitlin’s cheek until she hiccuped.
Burke reached to pull her back, but when he heard that laugh, he stopped. For the first time in days, it cut through everything dark.
Then the nurse appeared in the doorway, arms folded.
“Sheriff, not on the bed. You know better.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Burke said evenly. “Rosie, off.”
The shepherd obeyed, hopping down but resting her muzzle on Caitlin’s leg as if to apologize.
The nurse stepped forward with a clear evidence bag. A white sticker marked the time and date. Inside, folded neatly, was the silk nightgown.
“Chain of custody,” she said. “For the Sheriff’s Office.”
Burke took it quietly, his expression hard. Caitlin turned her face to the wall, color draining from her cheeks.
“Please—just take it away.”
He did. The rustle of the plastic was sharp and too loud in the quiet room. He’d handled a hundred pieces of evidence in his life. None of them had ever felt this personal.
Emma
A soft knock came next. Sara opened the door a few inches, then stepped aside.
Emma slipped in—gray sweater, worry lines, and eyes that looked like home. She went straight to Caitlin’s side, brushing hair from her forehead.
“Lord, you’ve scared us all half to death.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Caitlin whispered.
Emma’s voice softened. “Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. Folks talk—let ’em. You just rest, you hear me?”
Caitlin nodded, tears slipping free. “It’s humiliating. Everyone knows. The papers, the courthouse—my life’s a headline.”
“Maybe so,” Emma said. “But you’re breathing. You got out. That’s what matters.”
For a while they just sat there, the hum of machines filling the silence. Then Emma stood, kissed Caitlin’s forehead, and walked to the door. In the hall she stopped beside Sara and said loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “I can’t believe they let him out on bail. He should be under the jail.”
The words carried.
Caitlin
Her eyes opened, sharp now. “He kidnaps me—and he gets out on bail?”
Burke turned back from the doorway. “Yeah. He made bail. But he won’t get near you. Not now, not ever.”
“He always finds a way,” she said, small and furious. “He buys people. He smiles. He wins.”
“Not this time.” Burke’s voice was bedrock. “Deputies outside this door. One on Izzy’s room. Round-the-clock protection. If he so much as breathes near this hospital, I’ll know.”
Her anger thinned into trepidation. “He’ll never stop.”
“Then neither will I.”
The promise hung there—solid and quiet.
She watched him—saw the split at his knuckle, the exhaustion in his eyes, the steadiness that never broke.
“You should go home. Get some rest.”
“The only rest I’ll get is right here.”
A faint smile tugged at her mouth. “Stubborn.”
“Occupational hazard.”
Rosie curled at Caitlin’s boots again—a small, steady weight. Caitlin felt it, and for the first time in days, it felt good.
Sara Parker
Sara straightened as Burke stepped into the hall, her gaze sharp. “Report says there was a truck circling the lot about half an hour ago. Deputies ran the plates—local registration. I told them to keep eyes on it.”
Burke’s expression tightened. “No mistakes. Lock down the stairwell—nobody in or out without a badge. If anyone gets pushy, call me.”
“You got it, Sheriff.”
He lowered his voice. “And Sara—if there’s even a hint of trouble, you pull Caitlin and Izzy first. Protocol goes out the window.”
Sara’s hand settled on her holster. “Understood. I don’t plan to let anyone near them.”
Burke gave a curt nod, then glanced back toward Caitlin’s door.
He didn’t leave the chair that night.