Page 4 of Silent Bones

“Geesh, Ed. You trying to make me deaf?”

Ed laughed.

“What the hell was that? My Bigfoot call. I’m practicing for Whitehall. They have a contest down there each year. Thinking I might see what the young ones make of it."

Noah chuckled. “Speak to you later.” Ed had been preparing for their camping trip for weeks, convinced that the Adirondacks were prime Sasquatch territory. His enthusiasm was infectious, even if his theories were questionable.

"You sound chipper," McKenzie said.

"Is there a reason not to? I get the chance to get away from all this for a while," Noah said, gesturing at the evidence-filled warehouse. "A week in the woods with my kids, and Ed, some fishing, maybe a campfire or two. No criminals, no surveillance, no retail crime rings."

"Sounds bloody perfect," McKenzie agreed. "You've earned it, Sutherland."

Noah pulled away from the storage facility and rolled his shoulders. Six months of chasing fake receipts and phantom vendors, and it all came down to a storage unit full of boxes. He'd have paperwork for weeks, but at least he could finally stop seeing CVS logos in his sleep.

His phone rang as they reached the highway. Lieutenant Savannah Legacy's name appeared on the screen.

"Savannah. The love of my life.”

“Hardly.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Just wanted to say well done.”

“Well, I appreciate that.”

“And…” she trailed off.

“What is it?”

She sighed. “Ah, nothing. So, what’s the plan for your time off?”

“Oh, you know. A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

She chuckled. "Well, you deserve a break. Whatever you are doing, enjoy your trip. You've earned it. We’ll catch up when you return.’”

“Savannah?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure, you’re okay?”

“Positive.”

As Noah ended the call, something in his chest loosened—a tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying. Tomorrow meantcampfires, Mia's terrible camping jokes, and Ethan's conspiracy theories about local wildlife. The cases could wait. For the first time in months, he was just a dad packing s'mores and bug spray.

2

Next day.

The air smelled like cold water and pine needles, the kind of dawn sharpness that bit straight through Callie Thorne’s jacket as she stepped onto the wooden dock. The surface creaked under her boots, dew slick on the weathered boards. Across the dark stretch of Middle Saranac Lake, mist clung low to the surface, and curled in soft tendrils through the surrounding forest.

Beside her, Detective Angus McKenzie gave a low, grumbling sigh as he adjusted his coat and squinted into the haze. “Never ceases to amaze me what idiots people are. Remind me again why anyone in their right mind goes camping someplace you need a bloody boat to escape from?” he muttered, thick Scottish accent curling around the words.

Callie suppressed a faint smile, more reflex than amusement. “Because it’s beautiful. Remote. Quiet.” She let the last word hang. Quiet wasn’t always a good thing.

Jake Richmond was waiting for them. He stood near the bow of the DEC patrol boat, his frame square, his expression set. A senior ranger with twenty years in these woods, Jake had the look of a man molded by the landscape. His skin was lined from sun and wind, shoulders broad from years of hauling gear, eyes sharp under the brim of his cap. Callie had been dating him for the better part of six months. Somehow, they’d managed to navigate the relationship and their careers. A mutual understanding.