The cabin was small and orderly: bookshelves on every wall, a woodstove, a back porch facing a hemlock ridge. The man who answered at five in the morning was sixty-one, lean, gray at the temples, and wore watchful eyes as if having spent decades waiting. He studied Dellray’s badge, then stepped back and let them in.
Claire appeared from the back hallway and froze. The silence that followed had a texture Dellray had felt only a few times in his career: the weight of something long-anticipated finally arriving. She looked at her husband. He nodded once. She came and sat at the kitchen table. The Calloways had finally been found, after 32 years!