Page 15 of Silent Grave

"We need to close the entrances," Gabriel said. "At least the ones we can find."

"And trap anyone else who might be down there?" Sheila countered, turning away from the map. "We don't know if Tyler was his only victim. There could be others."

Her father's jaw tightened—a subtle tell she recognized from childhood arguments. "If we leave them open, we're giving him hunting grounds."

"He already has hunting grounds," she said. "Closing a few entrances won't stop him. But it might stop someone from escaping."

Sullivan cleared his throat. "There's another problem. These mountains are full of campgrounds, hiking trails, even some old homesteads. People live up there, work up there. Maybe it's not my place to say this, but do you really have the manpower to monitor so many sites?"

Nobody spoke. Gabriel sighed heavily. "Even if we can't close them all," he said, "we still need to know where they are."

Sheila nodded and pulled out her notebook. "We need locations. Anywhere people might come into contact with mine entrances."

"That's most of the mountain," Sullivan said. He moved to the wall map, pointing. "Paradise Campground here. The old Miller place here. Hiking trails all through this area. And these blue marks? All known mine entrances within a quarter-mile of public access."

There were dozens of blue marks.

"What about parking areas?" Gabriel asked. "Places someone could leave a vehicle without being noticed?"

Sullivan considered this. "There's the old logging road that parallels the main tunnel system. Hardly used now except by hunters. And there's a fire road that passes near where Tyler was found." He traced the route with his finger. "Connects to three different trail heads. Popular with hikers."

"We need cameras on those roads," Sheila said. "And the main parking areas. If our killer was watching Tyler all that time..."

"He had to park somewhere," her father finished. "Assuming he's not local, which brings up another point."

"What's that?" Sheila asked.

"We need to talk to locals, see if anyone has seen or heard anything suspicious."

Sheila nodded, but inwardly, she was thinking about manpower. With Roberts and Baxter keeping an eye on Tommy Forster, the department was already stretched thin. Coldwater County was a sizable area, but it was a small department, always had been. And most of the time, that worked just fine for everyone.

Most of the time.

Sullivan was pulling out more maps. "I can mark likely locations. But you should know..." He hesitated. "These mines, they're not just holes in the ground. They're part of local history. People have been exploring them, using them, living near them for generations."

"What are you saying, Doc?" Gabriel asked.

"If you do decide to shut these mines down… people aren't going to be happy."

"You know what makes people happy? Keeping them alive."

Sheila gazed at the wall of photographs—miners, families, whole communities that had grown up around these mountains. Could one of them be the killer? If so, how would they know?

Sullivan pulled another file from his cabinet, this one labeled "ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS, 1950-1975."

"If you do try closing the mines, you wouldn't be the first ones," he said, laying out yellowed newspaper clippings. "After three miners died in '61, the company tried sealing off the most dangerous sections. Within a week, locals had opened new entrances. These mountains are like Swiss cheese—block one hole, people just make another."

"But why?" Sheila asked. "What's so important about keeping them open?"

Sullivan's eyes grew distant. "For some, it's about pride. Their fathers and grandfathers worked these tunnels. Others think there's still copper down there, waiting to be found. And then there's folks who just can't let go of the past." He tapped one of the photographs on the wall. "This place used to mean something. People built lives around these mines."

"And now someone's using them as a killing ground," Gabriel said quietly.

Sheila returned her attention to the wall map, noting how the tunnel system spread like a spider's web through the mountains. "We need to think like him," she said. "He chose Tyler for a reason. Watched him, planned it."

"Unless it was just a matter of Tyler being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Crime of opportunity."

Sheila chewed her lip, considering this possibility.

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