Page 35 of Silent Bones (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #7)

Callie stood just outside the kitchen door, her back stiff, fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t turn as he approached. Just kept staring at something inside.

“What do we have?” he asked quietly.

She finally looked at him. Her eyes were glassy. “The dog was out. The neighbor found the door open. Milk on the floor. Avery’s phone is missing. She’s gone.”

“Shit.”

Noah stepped past her and into the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was the smell, faintly sour. A thin film of white streaked across the tile. The kind of chaos that didn’t come from intention but from a moment cracking in two.

Callie moved beside him and pointed toward the leash now attached to a porch railing outside. “Dusty had blood on his collar. Not much. Could be his own. Could be hers.”

Noah didn’t respond. He just looked around. The scene wasn’t violent in a traditional sense. No overturned chairs. No signs of forced entry. But something was deeply wrong.

Then headlights spilled across the yard as a dark SUV came barreling in, tires spitting gravel. The driver’s door flung open before the vehicle fully stopped.

Bill Calder stormed out.

He wore his uniform, or what was left of it. Tie half-knotted, collar open, gun clipped to his belt but ignored. He moved like a man already in free fall.

“Where is she?” he barked, scanning the yard.

Noah stepped out to meet him. “We’re working on it, Bill. The house is secure. We’ve got people canvassing the?—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sutherland,” Calder snapped. “Where is my daughter?”

Callie’s mouth opened, then closed again. No one had an answer.

Bill shoved past the tape, storming through the kitchen in two strides, then stopped.

He saw the glass. The milk. The single shoe. And whatever fire he’d come in with, the commander’s bluster, the badge, the DEC officer’s training, it all seemed to drain from his face.

His shoulders dropped. The silence that followed wasn’t quiet. It was hollow.

“I told her to stay home tonight,” he whispered.

Callie moved closer, her voice gentler now. “Bill?—”

“She asked me if she should come to the station. She was scared. I told her no. I told her to stay here. I was busy. I figured she would be safe at home with the deputy posted outside. Where is he?”

“Dead.”

Bill closed his eyes.

Noah said nothing. He could see it, Calder’s hands shaking. His lips pressing together to hold in whatever scream was building behind his teeth.

Finally, he spoke again, barely audible.

“It’s him. I know it.”

Noah stepped forward. “Who?”

Calder looked at him. Really looked at him. The last of his strength finally peeled away.

“Dale,” he said. “It’s Dale.”

The yard had quieted again.

Bill Calder stood near the treeline, arms crossed over his chest like he was holding himself together by force alone. The cruiser lights flickered behind him, casting his shadow long and ragged across the lawn.

Noah and Callie stepped up beside him. Neither spoke. Not yet.

But Calder did.

“I think I knew,” he said softly. “Some part of me did.”

Callie looked over. “Knew what?”

“That Dale was watching us. He kept... showing up at outreach events, trail briefings. Always had a reason to be around even after he retired.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Noah asked, barely masking the edge in his voice.

“Because I didn’t have proof,” Calder snapped, then immediately softened. “Because I didn’t believe he could do this. Sure, he was angry about the past, but… He was one of my rangers. DEC trained him. The community trusted him.”

Noah stared at him. “And now he has your daughter.”

Bill dropped his chin.

A phone buzzed in Callie’s pocket, breaking the silence. She answered, turning slightly away. “Go ahead.”

It was Rishi.

She listened for a few seconds, eyes narrowing.

Then she turned back to them. “Avery’s phone just pinged. One tower hit, then nothing.”

“Where?” Noah asked.

Callie’s brow furrowed.

“Wallface. Just west of the floodplain trailhead. Then silence.”

“He’s taking her back there,” Bill said before swearing under his breath. “To where this all began.”

Noah felt his stomach twist. “That’s not far from here.”

“Will take about 45 minutes to get there, another 10 to hike in,” Callie said. “Maybe more, depending on trail conditions.” she said aloud, already pulling out her keys.

They didn’t wait.

Officers scrambled as orders flew. Maps unfolded on hoods. Radios crackled to life. Calder barked commands with a hollow edge to his voice, and Callie moved toward the cruiser, adrenaline already in her stride.

The convoy crunched to a stop in the gravel lot near the Wallface floodplain trailhead, nothing more than a rotted forest sign and a faded metal gate pulled halfway open. Flashlights snapped on. Radios hissed with chatter. Someone shouted orders toward the back.

Noah stepped out into the dark, cold air. The woods ahead swallowed sound, thick with undergrowth and the scent of wet pine. His boots hit the trail as Callie moved beside him, scanning a GPS.

“It says she was here,” she said.

“How long ago?” McKenzie asked behind them, breath pluming.

“Twenty minutes,” Rishi crackled over the comms. “Then nothing. Just… stopped moving. Tower lost her.”

They fanned out, voices low but urgent.

“Avery!”

“Avery, honey, can you hear us?”

Dogs barked; handlers grappling with leashes. The woods offered nothing back but the shuffle of boots and distant wind.

Then a voice called out ahead. “Over here!”

Noah and Callie sprinted forward, ducking under low branches, slipping on wet moss. A young deputy stood in a shallow clearing near a broken boulder, the beam of his flashlight fixed on a small, dark shape resting on the rock’s surface.

Callie stepped forward slowly. Her light joined his.

It was a phone.

Face down. Screen cracked. Casing scraped like it had been dragged. A few inches away, a braided leather bracelet, frayed at the edges, lay coiled in the dirt.

Callie knelt beside it, lifting the phone with a gloved hand. Her voice dropped. “It’s hers.”

McKenzie turned in a slow circle. “No footprints?”

“One set,” the deputy muttered. “It’s like it was… planted.”

Noah stared at the boulder. Its jagged edge loomed like a gravestone, silhouetted against the trees. Just beyond, the ground sloped down toward the floodplain, the same path the landslide had carved a year earlier.

He looked up at the trees, then back to the stone.

“This is where it started,” he murmured. “He brought it full circle.”

Callie stood, clutching the phone. “Why leave it here if she’s not?—?”

“To make us look,” Noah said. “To make us remember.”

A silence fell over the group. The trees swayed slightly in the wind, leaves whispering like secrets.

Callie exhaled. “So where is she?”

No one answered. No one knew.

Behind them, the radios hissed to life again, voices calling in more units, more dogs, more lights. But deep in the woods, Avery was already gone. And the message was clear: this was never about now. This was always about then.