Page 11 of Silent Bones (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #7)

Next day.

T he place looked like it belonged in a travel magazine.

Callie stood on the flagstone porch, surrounded by white pine and hemlock, the lake just beyond the house sparkling under the late-morning sun.

Bikes leaned against the side rail, one adult-sized, one kid-sized, both mud-splattered.

Life signs. She knocked twice, waited. Nothing. Knocked again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

She tried the door handle. Locked. She cupped a hand against the glass and leaned in.

“Noah,” she called. “You alive in there?”

Footsteps thudded. A groggy grunt, the sound of a deadbolt, and then the door swung open a few inches.

He squinted like he’d been hit by a spotlight. “Thorne, could you knock any louder?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“My alarm never went off.”

“You’re forty-six, not fourteen.”

He stepped aside, shirt rumpled, jaw scruffy, eyes bloodshot.

Callie stepped in and scanned the entryway.

The interior was warm, woodsy with a stone fireplace, wide-plank floors, and rustic trim.

But there was clutter too. A hoodie on the back of the couch, two cereal bowls in the sink, and a trio of empty beer bottles on the counter. A fourth on its side.

Not the first time she’d seen this version of him, but it never sat right.

“So the alarm didn’t go off,” she repeated. “Or you hit snooze four times and drank yourself unconscious.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” he muttered, scratching his jaw. “Only two of those are true.”

She grinned as she moved further inside, her boots clicking softly across the floor. “Where are the kids?”

“Mia slept at a friend’s. Ethan’s at Gretchen’s for the week since my plans changed and I got assigned the case.” He shut the door behind them and motioned toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“No, I figured we’d grab some on the way over.”

“No,” he said, rifling through a cabinet. “I meant, didn’t you bring any with you? I need to wake up.”

She gave a dry smile. “No, but I’ve got an epinephrine auto-injector in the cruiser.”

“Funny, Thorne.”

He set about making some.

The kettle whistled low as he poured water into a French press.

Callie wandered into the living room, eyes skimming over the decor.

A mounted set of vintage trail skis hung over the fireplace.

One wall was a gallery of black-and-white family photos: kids on a dock, muddy dogs, a younger Noah in uniform.

“What are you doing here?”

She turned slightly. “You didn’t forget you’ve got a meeting this morning, right?”

“Of course I didn’t forget,” he said, pressing down the plunger. “The DEC guy. Calder.”

“Right. About his daughter Avery.”

“I know that too,” he said. “I meant, what are you doing here? Where’s McKenzie?”

“He said he had pressing business.”

“Translation, he didn’t feel like getting up.”

Callie shrugged. “You’re not far wrong.”

He handed her a mug. She sniffed it. “Is this black tar and regret?”

“Just drink it.”

They sat for a moment, the lake visible through the big picture window. Sunlight glittered off the water, dappling the floor. The silence settled into something almost companionable.

“You said the kids are with Gretchen. How’s everything with them? I haven’t seen you all in a while,” she asked after a beat.

Noah leaned back, rubbing his forehead. “They’re good. Busy. And… well, I haven’t been over lately, because I figured you’ve got enough on your plate.”

“Jake’s not a plate,” she said evenly.

He raised an eyebrow. “No?”

She took a sip. “He’s more like… a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. Functional. Fills a need.”

Noah laughed under his breath. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“More sexual than romantic.”

He thought about his own interactions with Natalie. That about summed it up for both of them.

She stood and wandered toward the hallway. “Bathroom still where it used to be?”

“Unless the house grew legs and rearranged itself, yeah.”

She disappeared down the hall, past a bedroom with the door cracked open. Inside, she saw a half-unpacked duffel bag, a laptop, a stack of open case files. Noah’s room was tidy but utilitarian. No personal touches. No softness.

When she came back out, he was pulling on a clean shirt. “So… it sounds like you have a problem in paradise,” he said, not looking at her.

She gave a shrug. “It’s touch and go.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not unless you want to talk about you and Natalie.”

“I’d prefer not.

“Same.”

He nodded, reaching for his holster. “Fair.”

Outside, birds chirped from the trees, and the wind tousled the lake just enough to stir the surface. Callie paused on the porch as Noah locked up behind them.

“You ever think,” she said, “about how weird it is that we’re doing this again? Working a case like this? Back in these woods?”

He glanced at her, a quiet shadow behind his eyes. “Every day. You driving?”

She nodded.

Callie took the corners like she was late for a felony.

Noah sipped from his travel mug and watched the Adirondack peaks flicker between gaps in the treeline as they headed toward Ray Brook.

The cruiser smelled like pine-scented wipes and the faint remnants of drive-through coffee.

He rested his arm on the door, eyes narrowing at the building coming into view.

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation sat low and solid off Route 86.

It had brown brick, a flat roof, and a large bronze seal mounted beside the front entrance.

Across from it stood the regional State Police building, where Noah had spent more years than he cared to count.

It felt strange seeing it from this angle.

Like looking at your house through your neighbor’s fence.

“You’re quiet,” Callie said.

“Just remembering the last time I had to go through that door,” he muttered, nodding toward the DEC sign. “A hiker went missing near Ampersand. Took us four days and a cadaver dog to find him.”

“Cheery thought.”

They parked, climbed out, and walked inside. The building was clean and cool, a mix of gray tile and bleached wood. Framed photos of search-and-rescue teams and endangered wildlife lined the walls. A young woman at the front desk gave a tight nod and pointed them toward the back office.

A sharp knock at the door was all it took.

“Come in.”

William Calder stood when they entered.

The DEC commander was in his early fifties but carried himself like a man ten years younger, square shoulders, clean-shaven, a jaw built for saying no. He wore a pressed forest-green uniform with a silver badge, and when he smiled at Noah, it was the kind of smile that only reached the surface.

“Sutherland,” Bill said, extending a hand.

Noah shook it. “Appreciate you making time.”

“Of course. How’s Hugh doing?”

“He’s well.”

“I heard he was in the hospital…”

“He’s getting up there,” Noah replied.

“Aren’t we all. Makes you think more about life and loved ones.”

Callie introduced herself, and they all took seats in the office. It was sparse and orderly, with maps pinned to a corkboard and a bookshelf filled with wilderness manuals and training binders. A window looked out toward a shaded walking trail.

“So,” Bill said, clasping his hands. “What can I help you with?”

“It’s not so much you as it is Avery,” Noah said. “Your daughter’s name came up during a recent interview. She was close with the victims. Appears in several photos with them. But she wasn’t at the lake that night. We’re just trying to fill in blanks.”

“Right.” Bill nodded slowly. He glanced away as if thinking of what to say. “My thoughts and prayers are with the families. A terrible loss.”

“So…”

“Um. Yeah, she was invited. But I told her not to go. Like I did with the previous campout they had been on. I didn’t like the direction that group was heading. Too much drinking, too much chaos. You have kids, Noah, you get it, right?”

Noah gave a noncommittal shrug.

He continued. “I hear Mia’s been asking about the law program. She wants to go into law enforcement, correct?”

He nodded.

Bill’s eyes twitched with something close to approval. “Then you definitely get it.”

Callie leaned in. “So Avery skipped the trip because of your advice?”

“Not advice. Parental authority.” He smiled again, colder this time.

“She wants to work here, for the DEC someday.

She's got good instincts but she has to understand that a job like this relies on living up to a standard.

That standard is established long before you get the job.

I wasn't going to let her throw it away for a weekend of bad decisions.”

Noah scratched the back of his neck. “Something change recently? I mean, she was always with that group before.”

Bill paused. “You’d have to ask her.”

Noah opened his mouth to respond, but Bill was already reaching for the phone on his desk.

“You know what… I’ll call her now. Save you a trip. No need to waste more time.”

“Not a problem for us,” Callie said, but the commander was already on the case.

It was clear who was still running this show, even if Avery was supposed to be the adult now. “Avery. Can you come to the office? We’ve got some people who’d like to talk to you.” A pause. His brow furrowed. “No. Not later. Now, please.”

The frown disappeared as he hung up and rose to his feet. “She’ll be here in ten. Our place is just down the road. Can I offer you some coffee while we wait?” he asked, already stepping toward the door.

“Sure,” Callie said. “Thanks.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Noah wandered over to the framed photos and plaques lining the back wall.

Most were awards or commendations: flood rescues, wildlife preservation, community engagement.

A couple showed Bill shaking hands with state senators or standing beside wrecked snowmobiles in avalanche zones.

“Guy sure likes to remind people he’s important,” Callie murmured.