Page 15 of Silent Grave (Sheila Stone #12)

Sheila studied Finn, unsure what to make of this reversal. "Do you trust him now?"

"I trust that he loves you. That he regrets lying." Finn chose his words carefully. "But do I trust him completely? No. And I don't think you should either. Not yet."

Sheila nodded but said nothing. It was difficult to know what to say, especially with how exhausted she was.

"Come on," Finn said, taking her hand. "Food." He led her to the cooler, then handed her half a roast beef sandwich.

"How's it been working with him?" he asked.

Sheila turned the slice of sandwich left and right in her hand, trying to muster an appetite. "Better than expected," she said finally. "He knows these mountains, knows the people. And he's not holding back information anymore."

"So do you trust him, then?"

"I trust that he wants to make things right." She took a bite of the sandwich, suddenly ravenous. "And right now, that's enough."

"And Tommy? Any progress?"

She shook her head. "Still not talking—I told the deputies looking after him to call me the second that changes. It's like he's waiting for something, but I can't figure out what."

A commotion near the parking area drew their attention. A group had gathered, carrying signs illuminated by news cameras' lights. CORPORATE GREED KILLS read one. SEAL THE MINES NOW demanded another.

Sarah Riggs, an environmental activist whose rallies Sheila had policed on more than one occasion when the protesting spilled over into violence, stood at the center, her steel-gray hair catching the camera lights as she spoke passionately to reporters.

She had the weathered face of someone who spent most of their time outdoors, and her eyes blazed with conviction.

"These deaths are on the mining company's hands," Riggs was saying. "They abandoned these mines without proper securing, left them to become death traps—"

"Ms. Riggs." Sheila approached the group, still holding her half-eaten sandwich. "Can I speak privately with you for a minute?"

"Anything you have to say can be said right here in the open."

Sheila sighed. Why couldn't she catch a break?

"This protest?" she said, gesturing vaguely. "It isn't helping. We need people to stay away from these mines while we conduct our investigation. This only sensationalizes the situation, makes more people curious."

Riggs studied her, and Sheila was struck by the intensity in her eyes. This wasn't just some activist looking for attention—this was someone who truly believed in their cause.

"And how's that investigation going, Sheriff?" Riggs asked, her voice carrying across the parking lot. "Two dead already. How many more before you admit these mines need to be sealed?"

"There are other ways to help," Sheila said, lowering her voice to encourage a more private conversation. "Work with the county on safety measures, advocate for proper securing—"

"We've tried working with the system for years." Riggs matched Sheila's quieter tone but maintained her intensity. "I've spent the last decade documenting safety violations, filing reports, trying to get someone to listen. Did you know there was another death in these mines two years ago?"

This caught Sheila's attention. "I wasn't aware."

"College student, just like Tyler Matthews. They ruled it an accident—said he was drunk, wandered in, got lost." Riggs pulled out her phone, quickly finding a photo. "Jason Fox. Nineteen years old. His parents begged the mining company to seal the entrance afterward. Know what the company did?"

Sheila studied the photo—a young Asian man smiling at the camera, full of life. "What did they do?"

"Put up a new 'No Trespassing' sign." Riggs's voice was bitter. "That was their solution. A sign."

"Sarah." A younger woman touched Riggs's arm. "The TGN news crew wants another statement."

"In a minute, Michelle." Riggs turned back to Sheila.

"You know what's really happening here, Sheriff?

These mines are still valuable. Cooper Mining knows there's copper down there—they just don't want to pay for proper safety measures to extract it.

So they let the mines sit, 'abandoned' but not really abandoned, waiting for copper prices to rise enough to make it profitable again. "

"That doesn't explain our killer," Sheila said quietly.

"No? You don't think decades of corporate negligence created the perfect hunting ground?" Riggs gestured to the dark mine entrance. "These tunnels should have been properly mapped, sealed, monitored. Instead, they're a maze where anyone can hide, where kids can wander in and disappear."

Finn appeared at Sheila's side. "Sheriff," he said softly. "Dr. Zihao needs to speak with you about Marcus Reed's autopsy results. Apparently, he discovered something you'll want to see."

Sheila frowned, wondering what the coroner might have discovered. Something that would lead them to the killer, perhaps?

Behind them, a reporter was doing a stand-up: "With no leads on the killer's identity, authorities appear to be at a dead end..."

"Think about what I said," Riggs called as Sheila turned to leave. "And ask yourself—who really benefits from keeping these mines open?"

As they walked away, Finn squeezed Sheila's hand. "You okay?"

"No," she admitted. "Because some of what she's saying makes sense. These mines should have been secured years ago."

"But that's not why you're out here at midnight, covered in mine dust." He stopped, making her face him. "You're not here because of corporate negligence or mining rights. You're here because there's a killer using these tunnels."

"Yes," Sheila agreed softly, looking back at the protesters, the news crews, the floodlit mine entrance that seemed to swallow all light. "And I just might be the only thing standing between him and his next victim."

With that thought still lingering in her mind, she headed back toward her vehicle. It was time to learn what the coroner had discovered.