Page 9 of Silent Home (Sheila Stone #13)

"Forty minutes until the Q&A," Finn murmured, checking his watch.

Jin looked up, his sharp eyes bright behind his reading glasses. He'd been Coldwater's coroner for over two decades, having moved from Beijing in his thirties to study American forensic techniques. Now in his early sixties, his black hair was streaked with silver, but his mind remained razor-sharp.

"Sheriff Stone," he said, his accent barely noticeable after so many years in Utah. "I found something interesting about your victim's death."

He led them to where Jessica's body lay covered on the examination table. Even after fifteen years in law enforcement, Sheila never got used to this part of the job. Jin seemed to sense her discomfort—he always did.

"The ligature marks are distinctive," Jin continued.

"Made by a very thin, strong cord." He indicated the precise line around Jessica's neck.

"Not rope, not typical wire. I believe it was gaffer's wire—the kind used to rig lighting equipment in film and theater work.

It has a particular weave pattern that left these striations in the skin.

" Jin's eyes narrowed as he studied the marks.

"And given by how deep these marks go, I'd say your killer is quite strong.

That's why I messaged you—I thought you'd want to see this right away. "

"Think the killer's male?" Finn asked.

"Most likely, though I cannot be certain." Jin moved to his computer, pulling up detailed photographs. "See these marks? The killer stood behind her, using their height advantage. Very controlled, very precise."

Sheila studied the images, remembering how Jin had taught her to read such evidence during her early days as a deputy. He'd been a friend of her father's, had attended family barbecues, had helped her study for her forensics certification.

Now he was helping her catch another killer.

"The lividity patterns suggest she was moved and positioned shortly after death," the coroner continued. He retrieved an evidence bag from his workbench. "We also found this in her jacket pocket. It was well-hidden in the lining."

The business card was cream-colored, expensive stock. "Katherine Walsh, Entertainment Law," Sheila read aloud. A Salt Lake City address was embossed below.

"Thirty-five minutes," Finn said quietly.

"Anything else?" Sheila asked Jin.

He shook his head. "That's all I've got for now. I'll let you know if I come across anything else."

Sheila thanked him, and she and Finn walked away.

"A business card hidden in the victim's pocket," he murmured. "What could that be about?"

Sheila recalled Rider's words about Jessica requesting a private meeting with the festival board to discuss concerns about ethical violations during the production of 'The Winter Palace.' Had she decided to hire an attorney, as well?

"I don't know," she said, pulling out her phone. "But let's find out."

She called the number on the card.

"Katherine Walsh's office," a carefully-neutral voice answered.

"This is Sheriff Stone with the Coldwater County Sheriff's Department. May I please speak with Ms. Walsh?"

"May I ask what this is regarding?"

"It may concern one of her clients. This is very important."

There was a pause. Sheila waited, hoping this wouldn't be any more complicated than necessary.

"I'm putting you through now," the secretary said.

A moment later, a second voice spoke. "This is Katherine Walsh. How may I help you, Sheriff Stone?"

"I'd like to speak with you about Jessica Gregory."

"In regards to…?"

"She's been murdered."

A long silence. "I'm very sorry to hear that," Walsh finally said. "How may I help?"

"We found your business card in her pocket. Was she in contact with you?"

"Yes, she came to my office about two weeks ago, very agitated. Said she needed legal advice about the film industry, but she was... uncertain."

"Uncertain how?" Sheila asked, putting the phone on speaker so Finn could hear.

"Like someone who knows they should speak up but is afraid of the consequences. We never got to specifics—she kept saying she needed to think about it, needed to be sure."

"That's all?"

"I wish I could tell you more, but she never came back. Never called. The only thing she said that struck me as odd was that she had proof of something, but she was afraid what might happen if word got out that she'd talked about it."

Like someone murdering her? Sheila wondered.

"Thank you, Ms. Walsh," Sheila said. "Please reach out if you think of anything else."

They wrapped up the call and checked the time. Twenty minutes until the Q&A.

"It fits," Finn said as they walked to his car. "She finds something during 'The Winter Palace' production—something worth killing over. Considers legal action but hesitates. Finally works up the courage to go to the festival board..."

"And someone silences her first," Sheila finished. "Stages her death like a scene from the movie that started it all."

"A warning to anyone else who might talk?"

"Or a signature," she said grimly. "Someone who sees murder as performance art."

They drove back toward the festival in tense silence, both aware they were heading into a confrontation with limited proof but growing certainty. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across Main Street as they parked behind Theater Three.

"Ready?" Finn asked.

Sheila checked her weapon, more from habit than expectation of using it. "Ready."

Whatever Jessica had discovered, whatever had gotten her killed—they were about to face someone who might have answers.

How far would that person go to keep their secrets?