The sheriff heard me. Mr. Vale did too.
“You don’t know what you’re interfering with,” Mr. Vale said.
I looked at the note still pinned to the yellow backpack.
SHE NEEDED A LESSON.
“I know enough to leave the evidence where it is.”
That was the first time his expression cracked.
Not wide. Not dramatic. Just a twitch at the corner of his mouth when he realized I had not touched the note, the knots, or the tracks.
Then the ambulance doors opened.
Two paramedics came through the trees carrying a trauma bag and a thermal wrap. The older one froze when he saw me.
“Cross?”
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