Page 114 of Silent Bones
"But you knew better."
"Yes. Deep down, we all knew. If we hadn't pulled down those warning signs, if we hadn't camped in the restricted area, that family would still be alive."
Noah watched the screen in horrified fascination as Dale's voice continued, no longer the calm interviewer but something harder and more personal.
“You see, I know you were there because in your rush to leave you left behind belongings: a branded water bottle, a jacket with initials, and a backpack. I found those dismantled signs too. You’d also been seen by a hiker as you were entering the restricted zone. I found the tracks of your vehicle.” He paused. "Do you know what happened to the ranger who tried to tell the truth about what you did?"
Stephen shook his head.
“You should. That was me. I investigated the site. I found evidence that the restricted area had been compromised. I filed reports saying the deaths from the landslide shouldn’t have happened, that human activity had destabilized the slope and the signs had been removed. Do you know what happened to those reports?"
"No."
"They were buried. Sealed. Classified. And I was forced into retirement for not letting the matter drop. You all destroyed my career, cost me my pension, ruined my reputation. My wife left me. My children won't speak to me. All because I tried to get justice for that dead family."
Dale's voice was rising now, anger and grief pouring out: "While you six went on with your lives, and prepared for college, that family stayed dead. And the truth stayed buried. Until now."
The camera angle shifted slightly, showing more of Stephen's restraints. But as they watched, Noah noticed something, the rope around Stephen's chest was loose, the knots not quitetight enough. Stephen seemed to notice it too, testing the bonds carefully while Dale continued his interrogation off-camera.
"You're going to tell this story to the world," Dale was saying. "You're going to confess publicly what you and your friends did. And then maybe that family of four innocent people can finally have the justice they deserved."
But Stephen was working his body free, his face set in concentration despite his obvious terror. The rope around his chest slipped down several inches.
"I will,” Stephen said, his voice stronger now. "I know we should have told the truth a year ago."
"Yes, you should have. But it's not too late. We're going to?—"
Stephen suddenly lunged forward, breaking free from the loosened restraints. The camera shook violently as he collided with Dale, both men crashing to the floor. There was shouting, cursing, the sound of a struggle.
Then Stephen was off running, the camera capturing a blurred image of him sprinting toward what looked like a cabin door.
"Come back!" Dale's voice shouted from off-camera. "This isn't finished! You can't run from this!"
The video continued for another few seconds, showing an empty chair and the open door Stephen had fled through. Then it cut to black.
Noah stared at the blank screen, processing what they'd just witnessed. Stephen's confession had filled in the last pieces of the puzzle. The teenagers had directly caused the landslide through their reckless actions, then covered it up and let Dale take the blame for trying to expose the truth.
"That explains how Stephen was found,” Callie said quietly.
McKenzie was examining the TV setup more closely. "This whole thing was staged for us to find. He wanted us to see Stephen's confession, to understand his motive."
Noah nodded, then noticed something else, fresh scuff marks on the cabin's wooden floor, leading from the chair toward the back of the building. And on a small table beside the TV, a hand-drawn map that he hadn’t seen when they'd entered.
He picked up the map carefully. It was detailed and precise, showing topographical features, trail markers, and what appeared to be a specific destination marked with a red circle. At the bottom, in Dale's handwriting: "St. Regis Fire Tower. Come alone if you want her to live."
"He's moved her again," Noah said, showing the map to his team.
McKenzie studied the route. "That's at least an hour hike through rough country. Why is he doing this?"
"Because…" Noah replied. "He wants an audience for whatever he's planned. He wants us to witness the finale."
Callie was photographing everything with her digital camera, documenting the obsessive shrine Dale had created. "This whole thing has been choreographed from the beginning. The phone, the trail camera, the photo at his house, this confession video. He's been leading us step by step through his story."
"And now we know the truth," Noah said, folding the map and putting it in his jacket pocket.
They finished collecting evidence quickly, the failing daylight outside reminding them that time was running out. As they prepared to leave the cabin, Noah took one last look at Dale's wall of obsession, the scratched-out faces of the teenagers, the newspaper clippings, the manifesto of a man driven beyond breaking by injustice.
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