Page 28 of Silent Night

"Good work," Natalie said, her eyes shining with pride as she looked at both Sheila and Finn. "This could be the break we need."

"When was the last time she used the platform?" Sheila asked.

Finn's fingers flew across the keyboard, his brow furrowed in concentration as he navigated through the digital labyrinth of Birds of a Feather. Sheila leaned in closer, her heart racing with anticipation, watching the screen with rapt attention as Finn delved deeper into Hadley Ferguson's online presence.

"Here we go," he said, excitement creeping into his voice as he clicked on a series of messages. "Both Jennifer and Hadley were active on Birds of a Feather during the days leading up to their deaths."

"Was there anyone they both communicated with?" Sheila asked. "Anyone they both dated?"

She watched as Finn's skilled hands worked the laptop, her admiration for his expertise growing. She had never been particularly tech-savvy, but Finn seemed to be a master of this digital realm.

"Alright," he murmured, his words punctuating the tense silence that had settled over their table. "It looks like there were a handful of men that both Jennifer and Hadley interacted with. Let's see if anyone stands out."

As Finn began clicking through various men's profiles, Sheila studied each face intently, searching for any clues that might indicate a connection to the murders. They were all so different, an eclectic mix of ages, races, and styles.

"Wait!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Go back to the last one."

Finn obliged, pulling up a profile that featured a man named Jack Sawyer. In the background of his photo was a lake, its waters shimmering with reflected sunlight. Sheila squinted at the picture, certain she recognized the landscape.

"What is it?" Natalie asked, her brow furrowed.

"The lake in the background of his picture," Sheila said softly. "It's the Great Salt Lake."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sheila's grip tightened on the steering wheel as she guided the van around a sharp bend, navigating the narrow dirt road that snaked through the dense forest. The isolation of the area sent chills down her spine.

If Jack Sawyer really is our killer, she thought, it would make sense for him to live all the way out here.

As the cabin came into view, nestled among towering pines, Sheila couldn't help but wonder if this was the place where the killer had brought his victims before disposing of their bodies in the lake. The cabin itself was rustic yet elegant—a wooden structure with large windows that shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. Solar panels adorned its roof, and a small wind turbine spun lazily nearby. A water tank stood at the edge of the clearing, fed by a stream that meandered through the trees.

"Looks like the guy's got everything he needs to live off the grid," Sheila mused as she parked the van.

"Perfect place to take a woman after abducting her, right?" Natalie asked.

Sheila stepped out of the van, gravel crunching beneath her boots as she took in her surroundings. The stillness of the forest weighed heavy on her chest and seemed to swallow any sound that dared to break the silence. She glanced back at Natalie, who was maneuvering herself into her wheelchair with practiced ease.

"Where's Finn?" Sheila asked, scanning the area for him.

"Over there," Natalie said, nodding toward a cluster of trees where Finn stood, his gaze locked on the cabin. He looked as tense as Sheila felt, and she couldn't help but wonder what had caught his attention.

As they approached Finn, the eerie quiet continued to gnaw at Sheila's nerves. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, as if she were being watched by unseen eyes. "Anything we should know before going in?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Finn shook his head. "Can't see anyone inside, but it doesn't mean nobody's home. Stay alert."

"Always do," Natalie replied, her hand resting on the wheel of her chair as if ready to propel herself forward at a moment's notice.

Before they could take another step, the front door of the cabin swung open with a loud creak, startling them. A man in his thirties stood in the doorway, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the trio before him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a scruffy beard that framed a friendly, sun-kissed face. His flannel shirt and worn jeans gave off a rugged outdoorsman vibe, and Sheila found herself momentarily disarmed by his handsome appearance.

"Can I help you folks?" he called out, his voice warm and inviting.

Sheila exchanged a glance with Natalie and Finn, a million questions swirling in her mind. Was this Jack Sawyer? If so, could he really be the one responsible for the horrific crimes they were investigating? The man in front of them seemed so...ordinary, so harmless.

"Sorry to bother you," Natalie began, her voice firm as she took charge. "We're looking for Jack Sawyer. Is that you?"

"Sure is," he replied with a nod. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a few questions for you," Natalie said, her grip tightening on the wheels of her wheelchair. "Do you mind if we come inside?"

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