The Steel Vultures stayed back.
Miller insisted on it.
“You touch nothing,” he told everyone. “Nothing in that room becomes ours until the deputies photograph it.”
Jojo muttered, “You’re getting responsible in your old age.”
“I’m getting tired of lawyers.”
The search turned strange almost immediately.
The man carried no normal identification.
In one pocket deputies found a prepaid phone.
In another, a small flashlight.
The backpack behind the shelf contained three additional burner phones, printed maps, a compact camera, and a thick folder.
One deputy opened the folder.
His expression changed.
“These yours?”
The man said nothing.
Miller stepped closer but remained behind the marked evidence line.
“What is it?”
The deputy looked at him.
“Photos.”
“Of what?”
“Your people.”
The atmosphere in the garage shifted.
The deputy laid several copies on the workbench.
Lucas’s mailbox.
Jojo’s house.
Walsh’s truck.
Miller’s front porch.
A woman getting into a red Mustang.
Lucas immediately recognized her.