Page 7 of Silent Bones
“But….”
Callie’s throat closed. “Jake, this isn’t that.”
His jaw worked. “Isn’t it? This also occurred in my backyard.”
“And it’s par for the course.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be on that course.”
She frowned. “What are you saying?”
He said nothing.
For a second, they just stood there, two people who had been through too many cases, too many arguments, too many moments like this. She wanted to say something else, something softer, but her voice caught and stayed caught.
McKenzie’s radio crackled softly in the background. Somewhere beyond the trees, someone called orders, the scene pulsing forward around them, cameras flashing, boots shifting, voices low and tense.
It wouldn’t be long before the media got wind of this and the rumors would spread.
Callie drew a slow breath, her hands tightening around her notepad. “You sure you’re up for handling this case?” she said, more to herself than anyone else.
Jake gave a small, tired nod. “Yeah.”
For a moment, the three of them just stood there, in the middle of the ruin.
Callie gave a nod then began to walk the scene, taking it in. Her boot caught on something near the treeline. She crouched, brushing back damp pine needles and thin roots. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves. Her fingers closed around a cold, familiar shape that was thin, rectangular, half-sunk in mud.
A phone.
Bright blue case, its back stickered with a peeling band logo. The screen was cracked, spiderwebbed across the glass, dirt worked into the fractures. She showed it to Jake as it had a photo of a couple on the front.
“That’s Stephen Strudwell,” Jake said.
“Which one is he?” she asked, glancing over at the bodies.
“He’s not among them. He’s missing but we confirmed that he was among the group based on the registration for the campsite.”
She turned the phone gently in her hand, the weight of it heavier than it should’ve been.
“McKenzie,” she called softly.
He stepped over, crouching beside her with a grunt, his brow creasing when he saw it. “Ah, shit.” His eyes narrowed at the phone. “Where was that?”
Callie gestured to the dirt. “Right here, near the brush.”
McKenzie exhaled.
Callie’s gaze lifted, tracking forward.
A faint trail led away from the camp, almost invisible unless you were looking for it. Low brush flattened. Young saplings bent and cracked at odd angles. Bark scraped from trunks in jagged lines.
It wasn’t the random chaos of a panicked animal tearing through the woods, but nether was it clean or mechanical either.
Just… heavy. Fast. Violent.
Her stomach knotted.
Jake stepped past her, crouching by one of the snapped trees. His hand ran along the bark, fingers brushing the break. “Big,” he murmured. “Really big. Black bear, maybe, but bigger than usual. Moose could do this, but…” His voice trailed off, tight.
