Page 47 of Silent Bones

“Half my staff. I do hourly rounds, nightly logs, guest interactions, it’s all documented and on surveillance camera.”

Noah nodded. “And just to clarify, you’ve never been to the Middle Saranac Lake campground?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve never camped there. And I certainly didn’t kill anyone.”

“What about your last message to Stephen. A video of him and Avery horsing around. It sounded kind of heated.”

“Yes, I sent that. But my anger wasn’t directed to any of them, it was toward him. The group used him. Made fun of him. I wanted him to have some self-respect.”

“So you filmed it?”

“Yes. But that was from last year. A video he shared with me.”

“You kept it?”

“I didn’t remove it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“We will need to see that original message.”

“Sure. If you read all of those messages you will see I was trying to guide him toward believing in himself. He had self-esteem issues. He didn’t want to feel left out but in the process he wasn’t being himself.”

She scrolled through her phone for several minutes and located the messages. She handed the phone over and Noah confirmed it was the truth before handing it back.

“I have nothing to hide.”

McKenzie leaned back, studying her. “Have you followed any of the forums about the case? Do you have any interest in Sasquatch sightings, cryptid rumors?”

A flicker of disdain crossed her face. “I don’t waste my time with that garbage.”

“Ever see anything strange near your property?” Noah asked. “Strangers, odd vehicles, poachers, smugglers?”

“No.”

McKenzie gave her a long look. “You seem awfully calm about all this.”

“What do you want me to do, detective?” she asked. “Cry? Scream? I’ve been targeted before. For who I am. For helping someone like Stephen. So no, I don’t feel the need to perform grief for your comfort. When you find him, he will explain everything.”

Noah met her gaze. “You said ‘when we find him.’ You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Stephen is dead.”

The words hit like a hammer.

She blinked. “Dead?”

“Yes. His body was found this morning. He was zip-tied. Beaten. Whoever did it left him to die.”

Theresa didn’t speak. Her eyes locked on Noah’s like she was trying to read if he was bluffing.

With a slow movement, she reached for a box of tissues on the table and dabbed at the corners of her eyes, eyes that were still dry.

“That’s… awful,” she whispered.

McKenzie watched her carefully. “And yet you’re not crying.”

“I’m trying to hold it together,” she said stiffly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you. We were friends. That’s all.”