Page 41 of Silent Road

But Star was already talking, words tumbling out in an excited rush."The linen closet.Two doors back.I saw him slip in there when you both ran past."

Sheila wasted no time lecturing Star.She was already moving back down the hallway, unholstering her weapon.She could hear Tommy's footsteps returning from the other direction.

The door looked like any other in the service corridor—industrial gray metal with a push bar.But now that she was paying attention, Sheila could hear the shallow breathing from inside.

"Hunter," she called out."I'd much rather do this the easy way."

Silence.

Then the sound of something heavy being dragged against the door.

"He's barricading himself in," Tommy said, weapon trained on the door.

Sheila stepped closer."Hunter, listen carefully.Right now, all we want to do is talk about what's on those memory cards.But if you make this difficult, if you force us to break down this door, everything gets worse.Think about it.Really think.Is whatever's on those cards so bad that it's worth adding resisting arrest to the charges?"

More silence.Then a voice, different from the smooth, practiced tone at the bar: "You can't prove anything.You didn't have a warrant for my locker.None of it's admissible."

"You really want to bet your future on that?"Sheila kept her voice steady."You're a smart guy, Hunter.You know how this plays out."

The dragging sound came again, this time moving away from the door.

"That's it," Sheila said."Smart choice."

The door opened slowly.Hunter stood with his hands raised, his carefully styled hair now disheveled, his black shirt wrinkled.The practiced smile was gone, replaced by something harder, colder.

"You have the right to remain silent," Sheila began as Tommy moved in with handcuffs.

"You don't understand," Hunter said, and now there was an edge of desperation in his voice."The pictures...they're not what you think.I can explain everything!"

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hunter Smith sat with his hands flat on the metal table, staring at his reflection in the two-way mirror of the sheriff station's interrogation room.

"Walk us through it again," Sheila said, leaning against the wall while Tommy sat across from Hunter."The camera equipment."

"I already told you—"

"Tell us again."

Hunter's jaw worked back and forth."It's my equipment.I bought it."

"With a bartender's salary?"Tommy asked, leafing through the inventory list."Let's see...Canon EOS R5 mirrorless camera body, retail price forty thousand dollars.Three L-series lenses totaling another fifteen thousand.A pro-grade flash system..."He looked up."That's quite a hobby."

"I saved up."

"Show us the receipts," Sheila said.

Hunter's reflection stared back at him from the mirror."I...lost them."

"Like you lost your portfolio?"Sheila pushed off from the wall and sat beside Tommy."The one you were going to show us before you ran?"

"I panicked, okay?"Hunter's composure cracked slightly."You were accusing me of...I don't even know what.Murder?Because I have camera equipment?"

"Nobody's accused you of anything yet," Tommy said quietly."We just want to understand why a bartender has over fifty thousand dollars worth of professional gear in his locker.And why he ran when we asked about it."

Hunter's hands curled into fists on the table, then slowly relaxed."I want a lawyer."

"Sure," Sheila said."We can call one.But before we do..."She slid a photograph across the table."Do you recognize this camera?"

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