Page 37 of Silent Home (Sheila Stone #13)

The question hung in the air between them. Through the lobby windows, Sheila could see the spot where her truck had been parked that night. Where someone had been waiting for her, someone who knew about departmental corruption, about Tommy, about her mother's murder.

"That's... complicated," she said carefully.

"Usually is." Gabriel set his newspaper aside. "Maybe we should talk somewhere private."

Sheila glanced around the lobby. How many cameras were hidden in smoke detectors and light fixtures? How many people might be listening?

"Not here," she said quietly. "And not at the station."

Her father's eyes narrowed slightly—he'd caught her meaning. "I know a place," he said. "Where we can talk freely."

They took Gabriel's truck, following winding back roads out of town. Sheila sat in the passenger seat while Finn followed in their department vehicle. The old Ford's heater worked sporadically, coughing out warm air that smelled faintly of engine oil.

"You're being careful what you say at the station," Gabriel said. It wasn't a question.

"The night my truck was taken," she said quietly, watching empty fields roll past, "the man who did it knew things. About Mom's case. About Tommy." She glanced in the side mirror, confirming Finn was still behind them. "About my childhood."

Gabriel's hands tightened on the steering wheel. They turned onto a dirt road that led toward the mountains, old tire tracks suggesting it was still used occasionally.

"Irish accent?" he asked.

Sheila turned to study her father's face. "You know him?"

"Not exactly." Gabriel kept his eyes on the rutted road. "But I've heard about him. Back when I was working in Internal Affairs, there were whispers. Someone who showed up when things needed to be... handled."

The dirt road ended at what looked like an abandoned ranger station—weathered wood, broken windows, roof partially caved in. But as they parked behind it, Sheila saw the building's disrepair was carefully maintained camouflage. The door's hinges were new, well-oiled.

"Used to use this place as a safe house," Gabriel said as they waited for Finn to join them. "Off the books."

They left their phones in the vehicle and got out. Gabriel unlocked the door with a key that looked too new for the weathered lock. Inside, the station was a single room with a potbelly stove, some chairs, and a battery-powered lamp. No electronics, no phones, nothing that could be compromised.

When they were all inside, Gabriel lit the lamp and closed the door. "Tell me exactly what happened with your truck."

Sheila described the hijacking—the man's expensive cologne, his threats about Star, his warning to stop investigating the department. As she spoke, she watched her father's face grow increasingly grim.

"He didn't want you dead," Gabriel said when she finished. "He wanted you to know they were watching. That they could reach you anytime."

"They burned Tommy's laptop," she said. "How did they even know I had it?"

"Because they have people inside the department." Gabriel's voice was very quiet. "Just like they did when your mother was investigating them."

The lamp's light cast strange shadows on the walls. Outside, wind rustled through dead leaves, making the old building creak.

"Tommy's the key," Sheila said quietly. "He knows names, knows how deep this goes. That's why they tried to silence him in his cell."

Gabriel nodded slowly. "And now they know you had his laptop. They probably know you're trying to get a deal for him, too." He rubbed his face, suddenly looking older in the dim light. "This is exactly what I was afraid of. Exactly why I tried to keep you away from all this."

"It's too late for that," Finn said. "They're already watching her. Already made threats against Star."

"We need to get Tommy protection," Sheila said. "Real protection, not just deputies we think we can trust. Get him into witness protection, get him naming names."

"They'll have people in the D.A.'s office," Gabriel warned. "People who can block any deal, make evidence disappear."

"Then we go federal." Sheila leaned forward. "Find someone we can trust in the FBI, someone with no connection to Utah law enforcement."

"The man in your truck," Gabriel said carefully, "the one with the Irish accent—didn't he imply they have federal connections too?"

"Then we find someone they haven't corrupted yet. Someone new, someone they won't expect." Sheila stood and began pacing the small room. "Tommy's our best shot at exposing all of this. But he'll only talk if he believes we can protect him."

"And ourselves," Finn added quietly.

Sheila stopped pacing. "Star needs to stay with Neville for now. With Baxter and Roberts keeping an eye on Tommy, Neville is the only one left I can trust."

"How can you be sure she isn't involved?" Gabriel asked.

"Because they would have used her against me already if she was." Sheila met her father's eyes. "Just like they used Eddie Mills against Mom."

A long silence filled the room, broken only by the wind outside and the faint crackle of the lamp's flame.

"There might be a way," Gabriel finally said. "Someone your mother trusted back when she was building her case. Someone outside the usual channels."

"Who?"

"Let me make some calls first. From a secure line." He stood, his joints crackling. "But Sheila?" His voice grew softer. "Whatever we do next, we have to be smart. These people—they've had decades to build their network, place their people. One wrong move..."

"I know." She thought of the burning laptop, of Tommy in his hospital bed, of her mother's unsolved murder. "But we can't just let them win."

"The problem is time," Finn said. "The longer we wait, the more chances they have to get to Tommy. Or destroy evidence we haven't found yet."

Gabriel moved to the window, checking the perimeter out of habit.

"Tommy must have known he was in danger the moment he was arrested.

If he was smart, he'd have gathered evidence he could use as leverage, something he would threaten to expose if the people he was working for tried to get rid of him. "

"Like the laptop," Finn said. "The fact that they went to such great lengths to destroy it suggests they were afraid it had damning information. Without that leverage, they have no reason to keep Tommy alive."

Sheila chewed her lip, thinking. "You're forgetting something. They attempted to kill Tommy before I found that laptop, which suggests they're not afraid of him having leverage—they're afraid of him talking. They need to shut him up at all costs—which means we have to get him to talk at all costs."

"And Star?" Finn asked in a low voice.

"Star." Sheila's voice caught slightly. "Can you call Neville? Make sure everything's okay?"

Finn was already pulling out his phone, stepping away to make the call. Sheila turned to her father.

"Who's this person you trust? The one Mom worked with?"

"Someone outside the department. Outside Utah law enforcement entirely." Gabriel's voice dropped lower. "But arranging a meeting will be tricky. They'll be watching all of us."

"Let me worry about that." Sheila glanced at Finn, who was still on the phone. "What matters is getting Tommy to talk before they try again."

Finn returned, his expression grim. "Star's fine. Neville has her at the house, watching movies. But Sheila..." He hesitated and glanced at Gabriel. "Star isn't the only one they threatened. You really want to push this?"

"What's the alternative?" She met his eyes. "Let them control us through fear? Let them keep using the people we love as leverage?" She shook her head. "That's exactly how they've operated for decades. How they kept Mom's murder buried all these years."

"I should be with you," Finn said. "When you meet this person."

"No." Sheila's voice was firm. "I need you with Star. Dad will be with me." She managed a small smile. "Besides, you're the only other person besides Neville I trust completely. I need to know Star's protected."

"She's right," Gabriel said. "The fewer people at this meeting, the better." He touched his daughter's shoulder. "And I won't let anything happen to her."

Finn still looked unhappy, but he nodded. "When?"

"Tonight," Gabriel said. "After dark. I'll make the arrangements."

"You're sure about this person?" Sheila asked. "Sure they can be trusted?"

Gabriel's expression darkened. "I'm not sure anyone can be trusted right now. But we have to trust someone, don't we?"

The wind picked up outside, rattling the station's loose boards.

Sheila thought about Star watching movies with Neville, unaware of the danger surrounding her.

Thought about Tommy in his hospital bed, about her mother's unsolved murder, about decades of corruption that had destroyed countless lives.

"Make the call," she told her father. "Set up the meeting."

Because fear, she knew, was exactly what these people counted on. Fear of losing loved ones, fear of speaking out, fear of standing up to power.

And she was done being afraid.