It was the voice he used when there was a minor fender-bender on Route 4.

“Where are you supposed to meet Marcus?” he asked.

“At the old kiln,” I said.

“But I’m not going there.”

“I’m coming to the station.”

“I want you there, Vance.”

“I want deputies there.”

“If Marcus wants this evidence, he can try to take it in front of the law.”

There was a brief hiss of static on the line.

“That’s smart, Kiera,” Vance said.

“You did the right thing calling me.”

“Don’t go to the kiln.”

“Come straight to the back entrance of the station.”

“The front doors are locked after ten.”

“I’ll have Miller open the sally port for you.”

“We’ll keep you safe, and we’ll get Thomas back.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” I whispered.

A wave of relief washed over me, hot and sudden.

I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“Just bring everything you found,” Vance said.

“Every page, every document.”

“We need the whole file if we’re going to put Marcus away.”

“I have it all,” I said.

“Good,” Vance said. “See you in fifteen minutes.”