Page 15 of Silent Road

"Mind if I ask a question?"he asked.

"You just did."She smiled to show she was joking.

"Is it true your sister was sheriff before you?"he asked.

The question caught her by surprise.Sheila's hands tightened on the steering wheel as memories flooded back—Natalie's laugh, her fierce protectiveness, the way she'd throw herself into every case like it was personal.The way Sheila had found her lying on the floor of the cabin, dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound...

"I'm sorry," Tommy said quickly."I shouldn't have—"

"No, it's okay."Sheila surprised herself by meaning it."Yes, Natalie was sheriff.Before… before she died."She stopped there, her mouth dry.

"I heard she was amazing at her job."

"She was."Sheila smiled despite the ache in her chest."Youngest sheriff in county history.Solved the Riverside Strangler case when everyone else had given up.She's the reason I became a cop."

"Really?I thought it was because of your dad."

"Everyone thinks that."Sheila checked her mirrors, moved around a slow-moving truck."But it was Natalie who inspired me.Dad was a great sheriff, but Natalie...she had this way of connecting with people.Making them feel heard.She taught me that being a good cop isn't just about solving crimes—it's about serving the community."

"Sounds a lot like you," Tommy said softly.

The comment caught her off guard.She glanced at him, saw nothing but sincerity in his expression.It made her uncomfortable, how easily the words had flowed, how natural it felt talking to him about Natalie.Even Finn had learned to tread carefully around that topic.

Why was it that sometimes it was easiest to be vulnerable with the people she knew the least?

"Anyway," she said, too briskly, "that's ancient history."

"Thank you for telling me," Tommy said."I know it's not easy, talking about family we've lost."

The simple understanding in his voice made her throat tight.She was saved from responding by her phone's sharp ring.Michael Wright's name flashed on the screen.

"Wright," she answered, her thumb hitting the speaker button."What's up?"

"You need to get back here."Michael's voice crackled with tension."Someone just delivered a photograph to the admin office.It's Bradley Greenwald—afterhe was killed."

CHAPTER SEVEN

The administration building at Mountain Peak Resort looked like an oversized ski chalet, all exposed beams and floor-to-ceiling windows.Inside, Michael Wright waited for them in a corner office, a manila envelope laid carefully on the desk before him.A young woman in a resort polo shirt hovered nearby, wringing her hands.

"Kelly found it in the internal mail slot," Michael explained, nodding toward the woman."Right between a maintenance request and the weekly revenue report."

"What time?"Sheila asked.

"Around eleven-thirty."Kelly stepped forward."I always sort the mail before lunch.It wasn't there when I checked at nine."

Sheila studied the envelope.It was unremarkable—standard office supply store stock, no writing on the outside."Security cameras?"

Michael shook his head."The mail slot's in a blind spot.We've got footage of the hallway, but there's too much foot traffic to track everyone who passed by."

Tommy pulled on latex gloves."May I?"

Sheila nodded, and he carefully opened the envelope.The photograph inside was printed on high-quality paper, the kind professional photographers used.Bradley Greenwald's frozen form was captured in perfect detail, early morning light turning the ice crystals on his skin into diamonds.The composition was flawless—mountain peaks framing the body, shadows adding depth, every element precisely arranged.

"It's like a work of art," Tommy said quietly.

"That's what bothers me," Sheila replied.She turned to Kelly."You can go.But we'll need to talk to you later about everyone who had access to this area."

After Kelly left, Sheila leaned closer to the photo."No watermark, no timestamp.Nothing is written on the back.Professional quality paper though—high-end photo stock."

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