Page 7 of Silent Grave

She would've liked to involve Finn on this trip to New Mexico, but given that he was still recovering from a gunshot wound received during a previous investigation, she'd convinced him to stay back and look after Star. He had to be chomping at the bit to learn what was going on, though.

"I don't know," she said, getting back to her father's question. "We'll just have to wait and see what Tommy says. And in the meantime, I guess I go back to work and you—well, you can do whatever you want, can't you? The joys of retirement."

Her phone rang. Angela Matthews. A tight knot formed in Sheila's stomach—Angela had been one of her mother's closest friends, had brought casseroles for weeks after the funeral. These days, she runs the community outreach program at the department. She answered, noting the time—not quite 6 AM.

"Angela? Everything okay?"

"Sheila, I'm sorry to call so early." Angela's voice trembled. "It's Tyler. He's missing."

The fatigue weighing on Sheila's shoulders suddenly felt heavier. "Tell me what happened."

"He was supposed to meet some friends at the Copper Queen Mine two nights ago. His truck's still there, but he's gone. I know I should have called sooner, but I just kept hoping there was some reasonable explanation. But with every hour I don't hear from him…" She trailed off.

"How long ago did you last see him?" Sheila asked, already standing.

"Two days ago. Not long before he went to meet his friends."

"And you're sure about the meeting spot?" Sheila grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair.

"Yes, he was quite clear about it. Is it possible I'm just overreacting, Sheila? Maybe he's staying with other friends, and his phone's dead—I don't know."

"No, you did the right thing calling. I'll be right there." She ended the call and checked her gun, then her badge.

Sheila felt her father's questioning gaze. Despite her exhaustion, despite everything happening with Tommy, she couldn't pass this one off. Not Angela's boy. Not when she remembered Tyler growing up, remembered him bringing Angela flowers every Mother's Day, just like Sheila used to do for her own mom.

"Tyler Matthews," she explained to her father. "Angela's son. He's home from college, was supposed to meet some friends by the old Copper Queen Mine two nights ago. Never came home."

"And the friends?"

"Say they never saw him. Changed their plans, texted him, but he didn't respond. His truck's at the mine, but there's no sign of him. I'm going to head to Angela's first, talk with her face-to-face."

Gabriel stood. "Who's going with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Finn's still recovering. Baxter and Roberts are watching Tommy." He ticked them off on his fingers. "The only deputies you trust completely."

Sheila paused, one arm in her jacket. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting," Gabriel said carefully, "that you might need backup you can trust."

She stared at him. "You're retired."

"You can deputize me." The corner of his mouth twitched. "I think I remember how to do the job. Was sheriff myself for a few years, if I recall."

Sheila studied her father's face. After everything that had happened—the secrets, the lies, Tommy's betrayal—working together would be... different. But he was right. She needed someone she could trust.

"Okay," she said finally. "But we do this by the book. No cowboy stuff, no lone wolf decisions. We're partners, or we're nothing."

Gabriel nodded, his expression serious. "Partners."

As they headed for her vehicle, Sheila wondered what she was getting herself into. Working with her father—the man who'd trained her, inspired her, and sometimes infuriated her—was something she'd never expected.

She just hoped they were both ready for whatever this partnership might bring.

***

Angela Matthews' hands trembled as she set down three mugs of coffee. None of them had asked for coffee, but Sheila recognized the need to keep busy, to do something normal while discussing things that were anything but.

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