Page 52 of Silent Home

"Look at her hands," Finn said quietly.

Sheila leaned closer.Charlotte's fingers were clenched around her papers so tightly they shook.Whatever the unseen person was saying, it frightened her.

"Can we get any other angles?"Finn asked.

"Wilson had cameras everywhere.Let me check..."Sheila switched feeds, cycling through different views of the hallway.But the other person remained stubbornly out of frame, as if they knew exactly where the blind spots were.

The footage continued.Charlotte shook her head emphatically at whatever was being said.Her voice carried faintly: "...can't just take those records.There are protocols..."

The rest was lost as a heating vent kicked on.But something about the exchange nagged at Sheila.

"This was right around when Jessica started asking questions," she said."When she began looking into technical aspects of the productions."

Finn finally picked up his coffee, but just held it, thinking."You know what bothers me?Wilson documented everything.Every performance, every interaction.So why wouldn't he have footage of whoever Charlotte was talking to?"

"Unless..."Sheila sat back, realization dawning on her."Unless someone had access to his archives.Someone who could remove footage they didn't want found."

She reached for her phone, then stopped.Some conversations were better to have in person.

She stood."Come on.We need to talk to Charlotte."

They found her in the costume department, sorting through racks of vintage clothing.Though the festival had been shut down, the costumes and props had to be inventoried and returned to various lending companies and theater groups across the state—specialized pieces worth thousands of dollars that couldn't simply be abandoned when the festival ended abruptly.

The heavy wooden table where Charlotte worked was covered with fabric swatches and careful notes about measurements and alterations.She looked up as they entered, her hands stilling on a blue dress that looked painfully similar to the one Jessica Gregory had died in.

"Sheriff Stone," she said, her voice carefully neutral."What can I help you with?"

"We need to talk about what happened two weeks ago," Sheila said."In the theater hallway, after midnight."

Charlotte's fingers tightened on the dress."I don't know what you mean."

"We have footage," Finn said gently."Someone confronted you about costume records.Someone who scared you."

"I can't..."Charlotte glanced at the door, then lowered her voice."You don't understand.There are people watching.Important people."

"We know about being watched," Sheila said quietly.She moved closer, keeping her voice low."Charlotte, three people are dead.Three people whose measurements and sizing details were in those records.This isn't just about costumes anymore."

Charlotte was silent for a long moment, her hands moving restlessly over the fabric before her.Finally, she said, "It wasn't the first time."

"What wasn't?"

"Someone going through my records.I'd noticed things moved, files accessed after hours.But that night..."She swallowed hard."That night, I caught them in the act."

"Who was it?"Finn asked.

"I don't know.It was dark, and they stayed in the shadows.But they knew things—about the productions, about the costumes.Technical details most people wouldn't care about."She began straightening papers on her table, her movements sharp with anxiety."They said they were doing inventory.But they were focused on specific performers.Jessica.Thomas.Sarah."

Sheila exchanged looks with Finn."What exactly were they looking at?"

"Measurements.Sizing details.Notes about how costumes had been altered for specific scenes."Charlotte's voice dropped even lower."The kind of information you'd need if you wanted to recreate those costumes exactly."

"Did you tell anyone?"Finn asked.

"Who would I tell?The festival board?They barely notice the costume department exists unless something goes wrong."She gestured at the racks of clothing around them."Do you know how many people have access to this place?Directors, producers, technical staff—anyone could have a key."

"But not everyone would know which costumes to look for," Sheila said."Not everyone would understand the significance of specific scenes."

Charlotte was quiet for a moment, then said, "There's something else.Something I haven't told anyone."She moved to a filing cabinet and pulled out a folder."After that night, I started keeping track.Making notes about when things were moved, what files were accessed."

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