Page 3 of Silent Night

He knew she was right, but he couldn't come up with a better explanation. The air felt heavy, charged with an inexplicable tension that weighed on his chest like a ton of bricks. He swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from the mysterious object inching ever closer through the mist.

As they watched, something beneath the object shifted, and an arm – previously trapped beneath the object – floated to the surface, pale and lifeless.

Charlotte screamed. Benny gaped in stunned silence.

And the body continued its slow, lifeless journey toward them.

CHAPTER ONE

Sheila shifted in her seat, her eyes flicking between the road ahead and her father's profile as he drove. The truck's engine rumbled beneath her, a steady hum that punctuated the silence between them.

What exactly does he know about Mom's death? she wondered.

Gabe had said he needed to talk to her about her mother, but he'd been cryptic at best and evasive at worst. Each time they'd tried to meet up recently, something always came up—a flat tire, a last-minute work emergency, or some other excuse. Sheila's curiosity burned within her, an itch she couldn't quite scratch.

Has he been avoiding me? Does he regret telling me he'd discovered something?

The early morning light seeped through the windshield, casting a warm glow across the passing landscape. Red rock formations stretched toward the sky, their jagged shapes softened by the dawn. Sparse vegetation dotted the sandy terrain, adding a touch of green to the otherwise earthy hues. It was the kind of scene Sheila had grown up with, familiar and comforting in its rugged beauty.

She stole another glance at her father, taking in his graying hair and the lines etched into his face. Time had left its marks on him, but the determined set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes were as familiar as ever. Sheila knew her father well enough to recognize when he had something important to say, and she could sense it now, heavy in the air between them.

"Are you ever going to tell me what this is about?" she asked, unable to hold back her impatience any longer.

Gabe glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the road. "I will, Sheila. Just be patient with me a little longer, and I promise it will all make sense soon."

Sheila sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. A part of her wanted to push him further, to demand an explanation right then and there. But she also knew that would only make him clam up, retreat behind a wall that years of shared history had taught her was all but impenetrable.

The truck rounded a bend, and Sheila caught her first glimpse of the large dude ranch sprawling before them. It was an impressive sight: dozens of horses milled about in various paddocks, moving with an easy grace that belied their size. Employees bustled around, filling water tubs for the animals and tossing hay into their paddocks.

"What are we doing here?" Sheila asked, surprised by the unexpected detour.

Gabe parked the truck and turned to her with a small smile. "I thought this would be a nice place to talk. Come on."

He climbed out of the truck, slamming the door shut behind him. Sheila hesitated for a moment before following suit. As she stepped onto the gravel path that led to the ranch, she couldn't help but wonder why her father had chosen this particular setting for their long-awaited conversation.

They walked side by side, approaching a wooden fence that overlooked one of the paddocks. Gabe leaned against it, his eyes fixed on a group of horses grazing nearby. Sheila joined him, resting her forearms on the top rail while she watched the gentle creatures, still not sure what was going on.

As she observed the horses, Sheila couldn't shake the feeling that there was some hidden meaning to their presence here—some connection between this place and the secrets her father had been keeping from her. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was, though, and the uncertainty gnawed at her insides like a restless hunger.

"Your mother," Gabe said, his voice soft and distant, "always wanted to have a ranch like this one. It was her dream since she was a little girl. She'd talk about it all the time—the horses, the wide-open spaces, a place where our family could grow together."

Sheila's gaze followed a chestnut mare nuzzling her foal, their tails flicking away pesky flies.

"Before...before everything happened," Gabe continued, "we were saving up to start our own ranch. We had plans drawn up, even gone to some auctions to look at horses we could rehabilitate." He let out a deep sigh, and Sheila could see the sorrow etched into the lines of his face. "But when your mom was killed, those dreams died with her."

As she watched the horses, Sheila couldn't help but wonder how different life would have been if her mother were still alive. Would they have that ranch by now, a sanctuary where they could find solace among the animals they loved? Would Henrietta be proud of the woman Sheila had become—of her accomplishments and ambitions?

"Every Sunday," she murmured, almost to herself, "we used to go on horseback rides together. Just me and Mom." Memories of laughter and sun-warmed afternoons filled her thoughts, and she blinked back tears that threatened to fall. "Do you think we'd still do that if she were here?"

Gabe reached over and squeezed her hand, his eyes finally meeting hers. "I'm sure of it, Sheila. Your mother loved those rides just as much as you did. And she'd be so proud to see what you've accomplished."

Sheila nodded, appreciating the effort her father was trying to make, even though it didn't make her feel much better.

Gabe looked away, his attention settling on the distant mountains, their peaks dappled with the first light of dawn. "Like I told you over the phone," he began, his voice low and hesitant, "I've been investigating your mother's murder."

Sheila's heartbeat quickened, apprehension tightening her chest. Finally, her father was talking about it. She stayed silent, not wishing to derail his train of thought.

"Seemed like the police hit a dead end pretty quickly," he continued. "They were stretched thin, working on too many cases at once. In the beginning, they'd keep me updated on their progress, but eventually, they stopped contacting me altogether. Felt like they'd given up."

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