“That is it,” Hayes whispered. “We have them.”

But before Reyes could celebrate, a pair of headlights suddenly appeared in our rearview mirror.

A black police cruiser was coming down the road, its lights off, moving slowly through the snow.

“We have company,” Hayes said, her voice dropping.

The cruiser pulled up right behind our SUV, blocking us in.

Another vehicle, a dark sedan, pulled in next to it.

The headlights flickered on, blinding us in the mirror.

“Who is that?” I asked, panic rising in my chest.

“It is not Reyes’s team,” Hayes said, reaching for her door handle.

Through the snow, I saw a man in a military uniform step out of the front passenger seat of the sedan.

It was Captain Vance.

Behind him, two local police officers stepped out of the cruiser, their hands resting on their holsters.

“Oh no,” Hayes muttered.

Inside the trailer, the conversation was still playing through the speaker, but my eyes were glued to the officers walking toward us.

One of the officers tapped on Hayes’s window with a heavy flashlight.