The clearing fell into an uneasy silence as the suited man stepped forward, the dark fabric of his jacket catching the faint beams from the police car lights. His voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade.
"Federal agents. This situation is now under our jurisdiction."
Scarlett's stomach tightened. She glanced at Nathan, whose jaw was clenched. Grayson, cradling his injured arm, was watching the scene unfold with a dangerous glint in his eye.
Detective Morrison wasn't convinced. Her hand hovered near her weapon as she stepped closer. "I'll need to see some identification," she demanded, her tone sharp.
The man's thin smile was almost mocking in expression. He reached into his pocket slowly, pulling out a badge and every move well calculated. "Special Agent Kincaid," he said smoothly. "Homeland Security."
Morrison leaned forward, inspecting the badge but keeping her stance firm. "Authorization?"
