Page 26 of Silent Bones
Noah’s jaw tensed. He didn’t like how close that was to what Addie had said earlier.
“Stay out of this,” Noah said, holding up the cast.
“Oh, I will. But if you change your mind, we’ve got a new episode dropping Friday. You should listen. I cover all of it… a timeline, witness whispers, possible cryptid sightings in the region. I might have a unique angle you haven’t considered yet.”
“I’m not interested.”
“You might want to be.”
Noah gave him a long look.
“Look, are you going to arrest me?” Miles asked.
“I haven’t decided. What do you think?”
“Honestly, I figured it was 50/50.”
Noah shook his head. “Go. Get out of here. If I catch you back here again, those odds drop to zero.”
Miles raised both hands. “Understood. Message received. Loud and clear, Officer...?”
“Noah Sutherland. And this is your official warning.”
“Much appreciated.”
As Noah turned, Miles called after him, “You ever want the real story, you know where to find me.”
“I’ve learned enough.”
Miles nodded and backed away into the dark, flashlight beam bouncing as he went.
Noah stood a moment longer, cast in one hand, the forest quieting again. Sasquatch? He’d seen all manner of loonies come out of the woodwork after a crime but that was just on another level.
Somehow, things felt even stranger now than they had that morning.
The night had deepenedinto a hush by the time he returned home.
Noah sat at the edge of his dock, legs dangling over the water, a half-warm bottle of beer resting in his hand. Out here, with the house light off and the woods behind him dark and still, the lake became a mirror, slick, obsidian, swallowing stars.
Insects buzzed along the surface, flickering in and out of view. The gentle lap of waves against the shoreline offered the only rhythm. Somewhere across the water, a loon called once, sharp and solitary, then went silent.
He took a sip and stared across the rippling black.
The plaster cast sat on the bench beside him, wrapped in a towel. A reminder of just how quickly reality could tip into absurdity. He thumbed through some of the online groups to seewhat locals were saying, then tuned into a podcast episode that Miles had covered. People really believed Bigfoot existed. That there wasn’t just one but hundreds of them hiding in the forests. Some believed it was a flesh and blood creature, while others thought it was inter-dimensional, capable of moving between worlds. The more time he spent listening, the more insane it all sounded. Bigfoot? Casts of fake footprints shared online, and cryptid theories floating into a homicide investigation like smoke. Ugh, that was all he needed.
Still, Miles had been right about one thing, people were already talking. Online, in town, maybe in neighboring counties by now. Whatever control they thought they had, it was slipping.
He let the silence breathe, long enough for the beer to settle warm in his stomach, before he brought up his contacts.
Noah scrolled to her name.
Natalie Ashford.
He hesitated, thumb hovering. Then tapped.
Two rings.
Three.
