Page 32 of Silent Bones (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #7)

T he silence between them had stretched for thirty miles.

Noah cut the engine in the DEC headquarters parking lot, watching Callie through his peripheral vision as she stared at the building's concrete facade.

She hadn't spoken since they'd left the Sheriff's Office—not during the drive through town, not when they'd turned onto the quiet service road that wound past maintenance barns and snowmobile sheds.

He knew that look. It was the kind of quiet that came with pressure behind it.

The lobby smelled faintly of varnish and cold coffee. A thin man behind the reception desk lifted his chin without smiling as they approached.

“Investigator Sutherland. Deputy Thorne.”

Noah gave a nod, resisting the urge to glance at Callie again.

“Commander Calder's expecting you,” the man said. “Third floor. You can take the stairs or the elevator.”

They took the stairs.

The silence between them stretched as they climbed, boots tapping over the rubberized steps. On the third landing, Callie finally spoke. Her voice was low, flat.

“Are you sure you want to apply the pressure now?”

Noah looked over. “I think we both know it’s overdue.”

She didn’t answer. They just kept walking.

Bill Calder’s office was at the end of a long hallway paneled in knotty pine, with framed photographs of bald eagles and backcountry lean-tos hanging neatly between fire code signs. The door was already open.

Bill stood when they entered, straight-backed in his khaki uniform, silver hair neatly combed, collar pins gleaming. The badge on his chest looked like it had never seen dirt. Or daylight.

“Your visits to us are becoming quite frequent.” His voice was warm but firm. The kind of voice that had practiced strength for decades.

“I know. Thanks for making time for us again.”

Noah shook his hand. It was strong, steady. Too steady.

“We won’t take much of your time,” Noah said.

“Nonsense.” Bill gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. “Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, we’re good,” Noah said, glancing at Callie. She hadn’t moved toward the chair.

Bill sat. “Well then. I assume this isn’t a courtesy call.”

“You assume right,” Noah said. He pulled the small notepad from his jacket. “It’s about August of last year.”

Bill raised his eyebrows; polite surprise, not outrage. “You’re reopening the Wallface case?”

“I’m not reopening anything,” Noah said evenly. “Just trying to understand a timeline that keeps getting thinner the deeper we go.”

Bill leaned back, fingers tented. “I already told you, Avery wasn’t there on the night of the murders, so I don’t see what this has to do with her. She was working at the visitor center in Newcomb. She had a shift the next morning. You can verify it.”

“I’m not asking where she was that night,” Noah said. “I’m asking why she wasn’t with them. Because up until last year, she was. Constantly. The day after Wallface, she started distancing herself. Publicly. Vocally. Like someone knew they’d dodged a bullet and wanted out of the blast zone.”

Callie shifted. Just barely. But Noah caught it.

Bill’s face didn’t move. “Avery made a decision. Those other kids… they were reckless.”

“Are you referring to the incident at Wallface?” Noah said.

“Why would I?”

“Because Avery and the others were there, weren’t they? Last year in August on top of the cliff, in a restricted area.”

He didn’t deny it but he didn’t confirm.

Noah narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Look, Bill, we can play this pissing game of who carries more power, or once I have the redacted files completed, I can bring them by then. We already have enough to open the case into last August’s incident.”

Bill sighed. “Look, she told me what happened that night. She came forward. She was disciplined. But she was honest. The others lied.”

“And you kept it quiet?”

“She was seventeen. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She made a mistake. You discipline, you correct, you move on.”

Noah held his stare. “Unless you’re the commander of the DEC and capable of covering up cases. Making problems go away.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do. You knew if that information came out about your daughter, you could be fined. Or sued. Or hell, maybe buried.”

The temperature in the room dipped. Callie’s arms were crossed again, her face locked in place.

Bill smiled. Thin. Professional. “Are we here to relitigate a closed incident or talk about your current case?”

“Both, because they’re connected,” Noah said. “And you know it.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the faint hum of the wall heater.

Then Bill leaned forward slightly, voice still calm.

“I don’t think you understand who you’re accusing, Mr. Sutherland. My daughter was a scared kid who admitted to a bad decision. She didn’t cause that landslide. In fact, none of those teens did. It was a natural event.”

“I didn’t say they did,” Noah said. “But something happened there, and if your office buried that fact — if you protected her, or let someone else take the fall — then this thing we’re chasing now? It started a year ago. At Wallface. In the dirt and the silence.”

Bill’s knuckles whitened on the arms of his chair. “You're not going to find what you think you're looking for. Trust me on that.”

“I stopped trusting silence,” Noah said. He stood. “That’s how this town got sick in the first place. So tell me the truth.”

“I think we are done here,” Bill said.

Noah nodded. He rose and turned toward the door but paused when he saw Callie still seated. She hadn’t moved an inch.

Her eyes were still on Bill. Her voice, when it came, was soft. “Why didn’t you have her tell the truth?”

“She did. To me. She told me what happened.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Bill didn’t answer, so Callie continued, “Look, all that matters to us is finding out who killed those teens. That’s all.

The past is in the past. Nothing can be done about that but if you think you are protecting your daughter by staying quiet on last year’s incident, you are mistaken.

It didn’t protect the other teens,” Callie said.

That landed with Bill, but he deflected it. “Well then our I should consider myself lucky that you care so much, that you posted an officer outside our house to watch over Avery.” He smiled. “If you don’t mind, please close the door on your way out.”

Callie stood slowly.

They left without another word.

Outside, the air smelled like pine sap and distant woodsmoke. Callie lit a cigarette with shaking fingers. Her first in years, by the way she coughed on the inhale.

Noah didn’t say a word. He knew she was wrestling with Jake and all manner of other personal issues. They stood like that for a long moment, two people trying to unspool a knot that had wrapped around more than just a case.

“He’s fucking with us,” she said.

“They all are,” he replied.

Noah’s phone buzzed.

He answered.

McKenzie’s voice was tight, almost breathless.

“Noah, we’ve got a problem.”

“Another?” Noah felt his gut tighten.

“Logan is gone.”

“What? He ran?”

“No.”

A beat.

“He’s dead. Hung himself in the motel. No note.”

Callie turned, watching his face change.

Noah closed his eyes for half a second. Then opened them.