Page 79 of Silent Bones

“You’re no longer with the DEC,” Noah said, easing into the reason he’d come.

“Retired last fall.”

“Early retirement, right?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Any reason?”

“Office politics.”

Noah gave a nod. He was familiar with it. They stood quietly for a moment, steam rising between them. Noah glanced around at the cabin. Everything in its place. Sparse but curated.

“I’ve been going through some reports,” he said. “Trying to understand the patterns of backcountry use in the Wallface region. You know — camping areas, DEC history, just makingsure we haven’t missed anything relevant to the current case. What can you tell me?”

Dale gave a faint nod. “It’s rough terrain. Beautiful but dangerous. Wallface always draws trouble. But it doesn’t give answers. Let’s just say it’s had its fair share of lost hikers and deaths.”

“Do you remember August last year?”

“Vaguely.”

“There was no ticket filed. I mean for the group of teens camping above the legal elevation line?” He paused. “The were teens there in August, right?”

Dale looked at him. “Not every warning gets written down. Sometimes people listen better when it doesn’t come with a fine.”

Noah studied him. “So you gave them a warning?”

“I said what needed saying.”

Noah let that sit. Then asked, “Ever seen things go a little too far out there? People push the land too hard?”

Dale’s jaw worked for a second. “People think nature’s passive. Pretty. Nothing more than a view. But the land’s got a memory and rules. You tip the scale, it tips back.”

“What do you mean?”

Dale shook his head and smiled. “It’s a saying.”

There it was again, that edge. Not guilt. Something older. Worn smooth from handling. Noah glanced up. On the wall behind Dale, a series of topographic maps had been tacked in a line. A red thread crossed two peaks. One trail was marked faintly in pencil: WLFCE-407.

“You still track trails?” Noah asked.

“Old habit. A hobby really.”

“The teens that were recently murdered,” he said. “Do you remember them from last year?”

“Sorry, I don’t follow the news,” Dale said.

Noah took out some photos and showed him.

“Hmmm. Not seen them before. Besides, every teen looks the same. We had a lot of them partying out there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean there were a lot of teens who took liberties.”

“In August?”

“I couldn’t say. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”