Page 44 of Silent Grave

Weston made a note in her book, her Mont Blanc pen flowing smoothly across the page. "The question is, what are you willing to offer?"

"We've discussed witness protection—"

"Not enough." Weston looked up, her gray eyes sharp. "My client needs guaranteed immunity from all charges related to his alleged activities in Coldwater."

Sheila felt her jaw tighten. "He tried to kill me."

"Allegedly." Weston's tone remained perfectly pleasant.

Nobody spoke for a few moments.

"Full immunity is a lot to ask," Sheila said carefully.

"What he's offering is worth more." Weston closed her notebook. "Is putting my client behind bars worth more to you than the truth?"

Sheila tapped her fingers on the table. "I'll need to discuss this with the DA."

"Of course." Weston stood, smoothing her already-perfect suit. "But don't take too long. My client's information has an expiration date. The longer we wait, the more likely certain parties are to... ensure his silence."

After Weston left, Sheila remained at the table, staring at the coffee rings. Did Tommy really know as much as he and his attorney were implying? And if so, could he convince the DA to play ball?

A knock at the door broke her reverie. Finn entered, looking more like himself than he had in days. The color had returned to his face, and he moved with only a slight stiffness that hinted at his healing wound.

"That bad, huh?" he asked, taking in her expression.

"Tommy wants full immunity." Sheila ran a hand through her hair. "For everything. Including trying to kill me."

Finn leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Think he's worth it?"

"I don't know. Difficult to tell whether the information is as good as his attorney seems to think, or if she's just trying everything she can to improve her client's position." She looked up at him. "Any word from the mines?"

"MSHA's ground-penetrating radar showed some promising cavities, but they all turned out to be natural formations." He shook his head. "Still no sign of Diana. Or our killer."

"We can't give up," Sheila said quietly.

"No one's giving up." Finn pushed off from the wall, wincing slightly. "But Sheila... you need to be prepared. The chances of finding her alive..."

"I know. They're not getting any better." She stood, needing to move. "But she's smart. She had supplies. And she was armed."

"Was being the key word. She's fired at least five shots that we heard. Maybe more we didn't hear. She has to be running low on ammunition by now."

If she was still alive to need ammunition.

The door opened again, and Gabriel entered, looking worn. He'd spent most of the night coordinating with MSHA, trying to find ways around their restrictions, calling in favors from his years in law enforcement. His silver hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled from too many hours in too many meetings.

"Thought I'd find you two here," he said, giving Finn a brief nod. The relationship between the two men remained careful, measured—Finn still wary of Gabriel's past deceptions, Gabriel aware of Finn's protective instincts toward Sheila.

"How'd it go with MSHA?" Sheila asked.

"About as well as everything else." Gabriel sank into a chair. "They're talking about expanding the closure zone. Something about potential structural instability extending beyond the original perimeter." He glanced at the empty chair where Katherine Weston had sat. "Tommy's attorney was here?"

"Just left." Sheila studied her father's face. "He wants full immunity."

"For trying to kill you?" Gabriel's voice hardened. "That's a hell of a big ask."

"His attorney seems to think he has enough evidence to justify it." Sheila hesitated, then added, "Speaking of Tommy... we need to talk about Hank Dawson."

Finn straightened slightly. Everyone knew Hank Dawson—the cheerful, well-liked interim sheriff who'd stepped in after Natalie's death, who'd supported Sheila taking over, who'd claimed he was ready to retire.

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