Page 2 of Silent Grave (Sheila Stone #12)

Same walk. Same build. Even through the poor quality of the video, she was certain.

"That's him," she said quietly.

Gabriel Stone leaned closer to the monitor, his silver hair catching the fluorescent light. "You're sure?"

"I worked closely with Tommy on the Oscar Wells case. I know how he moves."

The night manager of Harry's Truck Stop hovered nearby, clearly uncertain whether he should leave the two strangers alone with his computer system.

Sheila couldn't blame him for being nervous.

They'd arrived just before dawn, flashing badges from another state, asking questions about a man who'd used his credit card to buy gas and supplies in the middle of the night.

"Did he say anything?" Sheila asked the manager. "Give any indication where he was headed?"

The man shook his head. "Barely spoke two words. Paid for his gas, bought some supplies—water, crackers, that kind of thing. Looked real nervous, though. Kept checking over his shoulder."

"He knows we're coming," Gabriel said.

Sheila's jaw tightened. Two days ago, she'd been in a hospital bed, recovering from hypothermia after Tommy had left her to die in an abandoned research facility. Now she was in New Mexico, watching grainy footage of the man who'd betrayed her department and tried to kill her.

Though Sheila didn't entirely understand why Tommy had tried to kill her, she had a rough idea.

Years ago, back when her father Gabriel worked in Internal Affairs, he'd uncovered evidence of a money laundering ring within the department.

He was warned not to act on this or report this information, but when Sheila's mother, Henrietta, discovered the files and started asking questions, Gabriel could no longer contain the situation.

Sheila's mother was shot in her own home, and Gabriel was told that if he didn't bury what he knew, his children would be next. So he transferred out of I.A., kept quiet, and eventually became sheriff. That worked until Sheila began investigating her mother's death on her own.

Gabriel, no doubt realizing he couldn't stop his determined daughter, helped her, and together they tracked down and caught the gunman: Eddie Mills.

By his own admission, he hoped the truth would die with Mills.

But Mills made it clear to Sheila that her father knew far more than he was letting on, leading Sheila to confront him.

Gabriel dodged Sheila's questions, refusing to discuss the issue—until, that was, a rookie named Tommy Forster was planted in her department and tried to silence her.

Permanently.

Now, seeing that the people responsible for Sheila's mother's murder had already decided Sheila was next, Gabriel realized that protecting his family no longer meant silence. It meant fighting back.

And it started by catching Tommy Forster.

But what did the FBI have to do with this? Could Tommy be a rogue agent—or were the agents looking for him the ones who had gone rogue?

Perhaps the case about departmental corruption that had landed on Gabriel's plate while he was in the I.A. went beyond the department. Perhaps it went federal, too.

"Can you send me this footage?" Sheila asked the manager.

He nodded, already typing. "Email okay?"

"Perfect." She handed him her card, then turned to her father. "We should check the highways. If he was heading south three hours ago..."

"He could be at the border by now," Gabriel finished. His face was grim. "Once he crosses, we may never get another shot at him."

Or at the answers he might have about her mother's death. About the money laundering in their department. About why he'd been planted in Coldwater to spy on her, learn what her father had told her—and then kill her.

Gabriel checked his watch. "Border patrol's been notified. They'll stop him if he tries to cross. But if he's smart..."

"He'll find another way through." Sheila zoomed in on the footage, focusing on Tommy's face as he glanced toward the camera. He looked exhausted, haunted. Good. Let him be haunted. Let him feel a fraction of what her family had endured these past ten years.

The truck stop manager excused himself to help a customer, leaving father and daughter alone with the surveillance monitor.

In the silence, Sheila could feel the weight of unspoken words between them.

So many secrets. So many lies. Even now, she wasn't sure her father had told her everything about the corruption he'd uncovered, about the people who'd killed her mother to keep him quiet.

"I should have come clean with you when you started working in the department," Gabriel said quietly, as if reading her thoughts. "Told you about Internal Affairs. About what I found. Maybe if I had..."

"Mom would still be alive?" The words came out sharper than she'd intended. She softened her tone. "We can't change the past, Dad. But we can damn well make sure Tommy doesn't get away with what he did."

Gabriel nodded, but his eyes were distant.

"When they planted him in your department, I knew.

I knew what it meant. That they were watching us again.

That they knew you were getting close." He ran a hand through his silver hair.

"I thought if I stayed quiet, kept my distance.

.." He shook his head. "I thought Tommy would realize you didn't know the details, and so they'd leave you alone. I guess I underestimated them—again."

"You were trying to protect me." Sheila's voice was gentle now. "I understand that. But if we don't catch Tommy, we'll spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders, wondering when they'll strike next."

"They won't stop," Gabriel agreed quietly. "Not now. Not after what happened with Eddie Mills."

A truck rumbled into the parking lot, its headlights sweeping across them through the window. Both of them tensed until it passed.

Sheila's phone buzzed. She checked it, hoping for news from border patrol, but it was a text from Finn: Star's giving me grief about missing your dad's famous Saturday pancakes. When are you coming home?

Home. The word stirred something in her chest. Finn and Star were waiting for her, worrying about her. And here she was, chasing shadows across state lines.

She typed back quickly: Soon. Keep her busy with those horrible action movies you both love.

"Your deputy?" Gabriel asked.

"He's more than that now." Sheila pocketed her phone. "He and Star... they're family."

Gabriel's expression softened. "You've built something good there. Which is why we need to end this. Make it safe for all of you."

The manager returned, clearing his throat. "Sorry to interrupt, but you might want to see this." He tapped at his computer, pulling up a different camera feed. "This was about twenty minutes after your guy left."

The footage showed a black SUV pulling in, two men in dark suits emerging. They spoke briefly with the overnight cashier showed something that might have been badges.

"Government plates," Gabriel said, leaning closer.

"They asked about the same guy you're looking for," the manager added. "Said they were FBI."

Sheila and Gabriel exchanged glances. Why would the FBI be after Tommy? What did they know? And most importantly… whose side were these agents on?

"Which way did they go?" Sheila asked.

"South. Like your guy." The manager hesitated. "Look, I don't want any trouble. If anyone else comes asking—"

"We were never here," Gabriel assured him.

Outside, the desert wind had picked up, carrying the first hint of dawn. Sheila slid behind the wheel of her rental car while Gabriel checked his phone.

"There's another gas station forty miles south," he said. "Only place to fuel up between here and the border."

Sheila started the engine. "You think Tommy's smart enough to avoid it?"

"I think those federal agents will be watching it." Gabriel buckled his seatbelt. "Which means we need to think like Tommy. Where else would he go?"

Sheila pulled onto the empty highway, her mind racing. "Did you know Tommy?"

Her father was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the dark desert. "Met him once or twice when he was a kid. Hank was showing him around the station."

Sheila absorbed this, thinking of Hank Dawson—the cheerful, affable man who'd stepped in as interim sheriff after Natalie's death. Who'd supported Sheila taking over, claiming he was ready to retire. Who'd gotten his nephew a job in her department.

"Do you think Hank knew?" she asked. "When he brought Tommy in? Or was he being used, too?"

"I don't know." Gabriel stared out at the lightening horizon. "But it's interesting timing, isn't it? He steps down right when things start heating up with Mills."

The implications settled like ice in Sheila's stomach. Had Hank gotten out because he knew what was coming? Or because he couldn't go through with whatever they had planned?

A set of headlights appeared in her rearview mirror. Sheila tensed until they turned off at a side road.

"We can ask him," she said, "but I suspect the only way we'll get the truth is if we talk with Tommy."

"Then we better hurry, because if those federal agents find him first…" Gabriel shook his head grimly. "Everything he knows about your mother's murder, about the corruption, about who's really pulling the strings—it will all disappear with him."