Page 42 of Silent Bones (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #7)

"Five? What about Miles Banning?" Noah asked, watching Dale's reaction carefully. "The podcaster. And Logan Forrester, the other camper? Why did you kill them?"

Dale's expression shifted, confusion flickering across his features. "What? I never... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Miles was found dead of an overdose. Logan was hanged in a motel room. Both were in the area."

"That wasn't me," Dale said, his voice carrying genuine bewilderment. "I killed the five who were there that night. The ones who caused the landslide. Why would I kill some random podcaster? And I have no idea about the other."

Noah filed that information away, his detective instincts noting the ring of truth in Dale's denial. Someone else had been cleaning up loose ends.

Noah took another small step, closing the distance slightly.

“Listen to me Dale. Don’t do this. What about the system that failed you?

Luther Ashford, the officials who covered it up, Bill Calder who protected his daughter?

They're all still alive, still protecting the corrupt system that destroyed you. "

“I don’t care anymore,” Dale said, but Noah could see doubt creeping into his expression.

"No, that's the point," Noah pressed. "You're so focused on punishing these kids that you're letting the real culprits walk away. You think killing Avery here is going to change anything?"

Dale's grip on Avery loosened slightly. "What would you have done?"

Noah thought of his brother Luke, of all the corruption he'd witnessed in his own career, of the moments when he'd been tempted to take justice into his own hands.

"I'd have kept fighting," he said. "Found another way to get the truth out. Made so much noise they couldn't ignore it anymore."

"I tried that for a year. I tried to get these teens to tell the truth, I spoke with their parents but they wouldn’t listen. I raised a stink, but they said I couldn’t prove it. The case would be tossed out. They never even tried," Dale said. "Nobody listened."

"Then you make them listen differently. Don't become the monster they're trying to paint you as."

“I already am.”

Noah was close enough now to see the tears tracking down Dale's cheeks, the way his whole body trembled with suppressed grief and rage.

"Look at her, Dale," Noah said softly. "Really look at her. She's eighteen years old. Same age you were when you first climbed up here full of dreams about protecting people. She’s scared."

"She's a killer," Dale replied, but his voice lacked conviction.

"She's a kid who made a terrible mistake. Just like you were a kid once, standing in this exact spot, believing you could make the world better."

Avery made a muffled sound behind the tape, and Dale looked down at her for the first time as something other than an object of revenge. Noah saw the moment when Dale's perception shifted, when he saw not the architect of his destruction but a terrified teenager who wanted to live.

"They destroyed everything I loved," Dale whispered. "My career, my reputation, my family, my faith in the system. Everything."

"I know," Noah said. "But destroying her won't bring any of that back. It'll just create more destruction, more pain for more families."

Dale's grip on Avery loosened further. "Then what's the point? What was any of this for?"

"The truth," Noah said. "You've exposed the truth about Wallface. People will know what really happened now. That family will get the recognition they deserved. That has to count for something."

“But I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe, or…”

“No. No maybes. You’re just trying to get in my head.”

“I’m not. I’m trying to…”

“Shut up!”

For a long moment, the only sounds were the wind through the tower and the distant helicopter rotors. Dale stood at the edge of the platform, holding a girl who represented everything he'd lost, staring out over the wilderness he'd once sworn to protect.

"I can't go back," he said finally. "I can't undo what I've done."

"No," Noah agreed. "But you can choose what happens next."

Dale's eyes swept across the vast wilderness spread out below them, the endless carpet of green that had once represented everything pure and worth protecting in his world.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows between the peaks, painting the landscape in shades of gold and amber that reminded him of those long-ago days when he'd sat in this very spot as a teenager, believing he could guard it all forever.

"I used to think I could protect all of this," he said, his voice barely audible above the wind. "Every tree, every stream, every creature that called it home."

Noah took another careful step closer, now within arm's reach of both Dale and Avery. "You did protect it. For twenty-three years, you kept these forests safe."

"And what did it get me?" Dale's laugh was bitter. "A forced retirement and a pension they stole when they decided I was a problem."

"It got you the respect of everyone who knew what kind of ranger you were," Noah said. "Before Wallface, your record was spotless. You were exactly the kind of protector these places needed."

Dale's grip on Avery had loosened considerably, though he still held her near the platform's edge. Behind the duct tape, she was crying silently, her body shaking with exhaustion and terror.

"Dale," Noah said softly. "Please. Look at me."

Slowly, Dale turned his attention from the wilderness to Noah's face.

"I understand your anger," Noah continued. "I understand why you did what you did. Those kids caused a tragedy, and the system that should have held them accountable failed completely. You were right to be furious about that.”

"Then why should I stop now?—"

"Because you're better than this," Noah interrupted. "The eighteen-year-old who first climbed this tower was better than this. He became a ranger because he wanted to protect people, not hurt them."

Dale's eyes filled with tears again. "That kid died when they buried the truth about Wallface."

"No, he didn't," Noah said. "He's still in there. He's the part of you that's hesitating right now, the part that doesn't really want to hurt an innocent girl."

"She's not innocent!"

"She was seventeen when it happened," Noah said. "A stupid, reckless seventeen-year-old who made a catastrophic mistake. But she didn't set out to kill anyone, and she doesn't deserve to die for it."

Dale stared at Avery, really seeing her as something other than a symbol of his destroyed life. She was so young, so terrified, so desperate to live.

"What happens to me?" Dale asked. "If I let her go, what happens to me?"

Noah could have lied, could have promised things he couldn't deliver. Instead, he chose honesty.

"You'll be arrested for murder. You'll probably spend the rest of your life in prison. But you'll be able to live with yourself, knowing you chose mercy in the end."

Dale nodded slowly, as if he'd expected that answer. "And the truth about Wallface?"

"Will come out," Noah promised. "Stephen's confession, your investigation, all of it. People will know what really happened. You might be hated by many, but you will be hailed as a hero by others. It’s the nature of this world."

For a moment, it seemed like Dale was going to step back from the edge, going to release Avery and surrender peacefully. His grip loosened further, and he took a half-step away from the platform railing.

Then something shifted in his expression. Some last flicker of rage or despair or simple exhaustion with the weight of carrying his grief for so long.

"No," he said quietly. "It's too late for that."

Before Noah could react, Dale grabbed Avery with both arms and lunged toward the platform edge.

Noah dove forward, his hands closing around Avery's shoulders just as Dale tried to pull her over the railing. The three of them crashed against the steel barrier, thirty-five feet above the rocky ground below.

"Let go of her!" Noah shouted, trying to pull Avery away from Dale's grip.

But Dale held on with desperate strength, his feet scrabbling for purchase on the platform as he tried to drag both himself and Avery over the side. For a terrifying moment, all three of them teetered on the edge of the drop, gravity pulling them toward the rocks below.

Noah managed to wrap one arm around a steel support post, anchoring himself while maintaining his grip on Avery with his other hand. Dale's weight was pulling them all over, his fingers clawing at Avery's jacket as she hung suspended between them.

"Dale, stop!" Noah gasped. "This won't bring them back!"

But Dale was beyond reason now, consumed by the need to complete his final act of revenge. He released his grip on the platform and let his full weight hang from his hold on Avery, trying to drag her down with him.

The sudden shift in weight nearly pulled Noah over the edge as well. His shoulder screamed in pain as it took the strain of supporting both Avery and Dale's struggling form. The steel post cut into his arm, but he held on.

Below them, McKenzie and Callie were shouting, but there was nothing they could do from ground level except watch the struggle play out thirty-five feet above them. It would have taken them too long to climb the staircase up.

Noah felt his grip starting to slip. Dale's weight was too much, and Avery was being torn between them like a rag doll. In seconds, all three of them would fall.

"Dale, please!" Noah made one last desperate appeal. "The boy who worked in this tower wouldn't want this!"

For just an instant, Dale's wild eyes met Noah's. Something flickered there, a moment of recognition, perhaps even regret.

Then Dale's grip on Avery's jacket began to loosen.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly Noah almost didn't hear it over the wind.

Dale released his hold completely and fell away from them, his body turning slowly in the air as he dropped toward the ground below. The impact, when it came, was sharp and final, the sound of a life ending where it had once begun, full of hope and purpose.

Noah hauled Avery back onto the platform, both of them collapsing against the cabin wall in exhaustion and shock. She was sobbing behind the duct tape, her whole body shaking with trauma and relief.

With trembling fingers, Noah cut the zip ties binding her wrists and gently removed the tape from her mouth.

"It's okay," he said, his own voice shaking. "It's over. You're safe."

Below them, he could hear McKenzie coordinating with the helicopter, calling for medical assistance, beginning the process of securing what was now a crime scene.

But up here on the platform where it had all ended, Noah simply held a traumatized young woman and stared out at the wilderness that had shaped both a protector and a killer.

The sun was setting behind the western peaks, painting the sky in shades of red and gold.

Somewhere down there, Dale Thurston lay dead at the base of the tower where his dreams had been born.

And somehow, despite everything that had happened, the forest endured, silent, eternal, and indifferent to the human dramas played out in its shadow.