Page 62 of Fatal Fame
"Stay safe, Mia."
She hung up and rolled down her window. "You scared the life out of me."
"Sorry about that," Gideon said, though his grin suggested he wasn't entirely contrite.
"How did you know I was here?"
"Lucky guess," he said. "Actually, you mentioned you were planning to speak with the minister."
Mia frowned, trying to remember when she might have shared her plans. "I did?"
The uncertainty in her voice made her wonder, for just a moment, whether Gideon might be connected to the mysterious Facebook messages she'd been receiving. Had he been tracking her movements somehow? The thought seemed paranoid, and she pushed it aside.
"Anyway, how did the meeting go?" he asked.
"Did you know Rebecca had the police create a restraining order against Travis Rudd?"
"I'd heard rumors to that effect."
"Evelyn looked into it, and apparently the complaint documentation vanished. Either it was never officially filed, or someone made it disappear."
Mia got out of her car and leaned against the driver's side door, appreciating the afternoon sun after the dim interior of the church.
"Wouldn't surprise me, given how this case has been handled," he said.
"Would it surprise you that Danny Walsh's son witnessed something the night of the murders but was pressured to keep quiet about it?" Mia asked.
"The second vehicle theory?"
"The what?" she asked.
“A long time ago, I tried to speak to Connor Walsh—Danny's son. He was around ten or twelve at the time of the murders. According to someone who knew him, Connor saw a second vehicle that night, something that wasn't part of the official investigation. I wanted more information, but he wouldn't discuss it. Real tight-lipped about the whole thing."
"Is he still living in the area?"
"Last I heard, he's working as a mechanic up in Au Sable Forks, about thirty minutes north. It’s called Walsh Mechanics. He’s followed in his father's footsteps. Though, I’d be careful about pressing him or his old man for details. You saw what Danny did to Pierce at the town meeting."
Mia nodded, remembering the violence that had erupted when Pierce pushed too hard for answers. “Anyway, what did you want to find me for?"
“Right. About that. I think I've got something even more valuable than witness statements," Gideon said, his voicedropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Can you meet me this evening? I need to show you something. Come alone. 8 PM."
"Where?"
"Hemlock Hollow Farm. It's?—"
"I know where it is," Mia interrupted. "It's been abandoned for years. Why there?"
"You'll see when you get there." Gideon glanced around nervously, as if he expected to be overheard. "I've got to go. And Mia—don't tell anyone about this meeting. Mom's the word, right?"
"Right," Mia said, though something in her stomach twisted with unease as she watched Gideon walk quickly toward his own vehicle.
The abandoned farm had a reputation in High Peaks as a place where teenagers went to drink beer and scare themselves with ghost stories. The idea of meeting there after dark felt like something from a horror movie rather than a legitimate investigation. But if Gideon had discovered something important about the case, she couldn't afford to ignore the opportunity.
As she drove away from St. Joseph's, Mia found herself thinking about Morrison's painting and its lesson about perspective. The Hale case was full of evidence that looked different depending on how you viewed it—the same facts supporting multiple theories, the same people appearing guilty or innocent based on which details you emphasized.
The challenge was figuring out which perspective revealed the truth and which ones were carefully constructed illusions designed to hide it.
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