Page 70 of Silent Bones
FOR:
Secluded locations
Proximity to lakes for covert transport
Airstreams used for meth labs (mobile op?)
Reputation for silence
Ties to Luther?
AGAINST:
Prior arrests make him obvious target
Known poacher - too desperate, too sloppy?
Loner - where's his network?
No real source of income
Someone saw him?
UNKNOWNS:
Clean trailer was a cover-up or distraction?
Who's his contact?
Why now?
He staredat the three columns, frowning. The pieces were close, but they weren't locking together yet. There was something missing in the unknowns that would tip the balance.
Noah lifted the crime scene photo of the tree. Claw marks. Tufts of fur still waiting on lab results. He tapped the edge of the photo with his pen.
“Poachers don’t stick around. Dealers don’t stage monster attacks.” He said it aloud, like if he heard it, it might sound less ridiculous.
But there it was, someone was trying to send a message, and doing it theatrically.
That also wasn’t Mack’s style. Mack was practical. Military. Blunt force. Duct tape. Bullets. He didn’t do costumes.
Unless he wasn’t alone.
Unless someone else, someone smarter, colder was using Mack to run interference. Clean trailers. Scare off suspicion with local legend bait.
Noah exhaled slowly.
He grabbed a black Sharpie and wrote in thick letters across the bottom of the page: WHO BENEFITS? WHO’S AFRAID? WHO’S NEXT?
He stood in the quiet a while longer, just listening to the wind against the cabin siding. Then he added one final note, underlined twice:Luther is the mastermind.
He capped the pen, turned off the light, and left the board exactly as it was.
17
Noah’s phone buzzed against the nightstand before sunrise. He didn’t move at first. Just blinked at the shadows on the ceiling, slow to let them go. The screen lit the room in cold blue.McKenzie.
He answered with a dry, half-swallowed, “Yeah?”
