Page 39 of Silent Grave

"Morning at the earliest."

Hours away. Hours their killer could use to his advantage—if he hadn't already.

Finn touched her arm, speaking quietly. "We can set up a perimeter. Watch the exits. If either of them surfaces..."

She knew he was right. It was their only option. But the thought of waiting, of doing nothing while Diana Martinez might be in danger...

"I need maps," she said finally. "Every known exit point within two miles of the north branch."

Doc Sullivan stepped forward—she hadn't even noticed him arrive. "I have detailed surveys of that section. And I know which unofficial exits are still passable."

"Get them," she said. Then, to Finn: "Call in everyone we can trust. I want teams of two at every possible exit point. Night vision equipment, radio contact, the works."

"What about the protesters?" Finn asked quietly.

Sheila glanced at the crowd, who were still milling around with their signs and cameras. "They can stay. Might even help—more eyes watching the area."

"And Carol?"

Carol stood rigid, staring at the mine entrance as if she could will her sister to emerge.

"She stays with me," Sheila decided. "I want to know everything about Diana's usual routes, her equipment, her protocols. Anything that might help us figure out where she is."

As people moved to carry out her orders, Sheila felt the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders. She was doing the only thing she could do—but it didn't feel like enough. Not nearly enough.

The killer was down there somewhere, in his element, in his darkness. And they were up here, handicapped by regulations and jurisdictions and safety protocols.

She just hoped Diana Martinez would still be alive when morning came.

Assuming she was still alive now.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Diana Martinez swept her headlamp across another exposed vein of copper ore, its green-blue surface glinting in the beam. Her digital camera clicked as she documented the formation. She'd lost cell service hours ago, and her watch told her she was well past her planned exit time, but she couldn't leave. Not when she was so close.

"Come on," she muttered, examining the rock face more closely. "Show me what you're hiding."

After thirty years as a geologist, Diana knew when something wasn't right. The patterns in these ore deposits—they didn't match the official mining surveys. According to those records, this vein had played out in 1961, leading to the mine's closure. But what she was seeing suggested otherwise.

She pulled her pistol from its holster, checking it for the dozenth time. A Glock 26, compact and reliable. Carol had thought she was crazy to bring it along, but Diana had insisted after hearing about the murders. She wasn't about to leave herself defenseless, not even for the sake of scientific research.

"Gun or not, you shouldn't be going in there at all," Carol had said that morning. "Just wait until they catch this guy."

But Diana couldn't wait. The EPA wanted her report by the end of the month, and she needed conclusive evidence. Evidence that the mining company had lied about the copper deposits. Evidence that might explain why they'd really closed these mines, and why they'd fought so hard to keep them from being properly sealed.

She checked her backup light and spare batteries. Everything is still good. She had enough supplies to last another twelve hours if needed, though she didn't plan to stay nearly that long. Just another hour, maybe two. Just long enough to document what she'd found.

A sound reverberated through the tunnels—probably just settling rock, but Diana's hand moved to her pistol anyway. She'd been foolish to come alone, she knew that. But who would've been crazy enough to come with her? Certainly not Carol.

The beam of her headlamp caught another unusual formation. Diana frowned, moving closer. The rock face here showed signs of tool marks—recent ones, not from the original mining operations. Someone had been actively working this vein, and recently.

"That's why you're so nervous about these mines being sealed," she whispered, thinking of the mining company's representatives. "You're still extracting ore. Illegally. Off the books."

Diana photographed the tool marks from multiple angles, making sure to include scale markers in each shot. The EPA would need solid evidence if they were going to confront the mining company.

She checked her watch again. Carol would be worried sick by now. Diana had meant to text her when she first discovered the signs of recent mining, but by then she'd already lost signal. She should head back, she knew that. But she was too close to stopping now.

Just a little further. Just a little more evidence.

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