Page 27 of Silent Trail

"I'd rather leave that to you." Sheila placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Whatever competitive edge you think the adrenaline has been giving you, it isn't worth the weight of secrecy and shame. The best thing you can do now is tell the truth and leave the rest in the school's hands."

"But what if they kick me out? What if they never let me wrestle again?" Her eyes shone with tears.

"Sometimes you just have to do the right thing, regardless of the consequences," Sheila said gently. "You'll feel better once you do."

Jade swallowed hard and nodded, pressing her lips together bravely. Giving the wrestler's shoulder a parting squeeze, Sheila left the interview room to return her sister's call.

"Hey, Nat," Sheila said into the phone, her voice hushed as she stepped out into the busy hallway of the sheriff's department. "What's up?"

"How's the investigation going?" Natalie asked, cutting straight to the point.

Sheila leaned against the cool wall, her eyes scanning the bustling office as deputies hurried back and forth with files and coffee cups in hand. She hesitated for a moment before giving Natalie a brief summary of their interview with Jade. "We just brought in a wrestler, Jade Larson, who had motive to harm Kristen," she said. "It seems unlikely at this point she's involved, but we'll have to look into her alibi to be sure."

Natalie sighed on the other end of the line, her concern evident even over the phone. "That's not going to be necessary."

Sheila frowned. "Why not?"

"Because another body was just found at Clearview University. And from what I've been told, the victim probably hasn't been dead more than an hour or two—which means the killer could still be close by.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sheila's heart raced as she gripped the steering wheel, Finn beside her in the passenger seat as they drove to Clearview University. The night seemed to close in around them, suffocating and heavy with the scent of fear.

Natalie's words echoed in Sheila's mind: The victim probably hasn't been dead more than an hour or two—which means the killer could still be close by.

As they entered the campus of Clearview University, Sheila's eyes darted between the buildings and the students milling about. The campus was a mix of old brick structures and modern glass edifices, bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent streetlights. In the midst of this architectural dance, the students seemed like shadows flitting between realities.

"Look at them," she said softly, her thoughts slipping through her lips as she studied the young faces passing by. "Do you think one of them could be the killer?"

Finn glanced out the window, his face a mask of grim determination. "Right now, we can't rule anything out. But there's not much point in guessing, not unless you spot someone holding a bloody knife."

Sheila swallowed hard, her throat dry, and tried to ignore the churning in her stomach. She knew this was part of the job, but she had never visited a murder scene before, not while the body was still there. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to turn back, to flee from the horrors lurking just out of sight. But she knew she couldn't. She wouldn't.

She parked their car in front of the Nelson Science Building, a modern structure with sleek lines and large windows. The area was already swarming with police cruisers, their red and blue lights casting eerie shadows across the pavement. A tall, muscular officer stood guard at the entrance, his face marred by a grimace as he glanced toward the building's interior.

"Hey, Officer Kwan," Finn said. "How bad is it inside?"

"Pretty bad, Mercer," the officer replied, his voice heavy with dread. "You'll see for yourself soon enough."

Sheila swallowed hard, her stomach twisting into anxious knots. The thought of what awaited her behind those doors sent shivers down her spine.

As Sheila and Finn entered the building, they were met by the sterile scent of disinfectant and the low hum of fluorescent lights overhead. The once-spotless linoleum floors were now marred by muddy footprints and the hurried scuffs of countless law enforcement boots.

"Sounds like they're this way," Finn said, nodding toward the faint voices drifting toward them from down the hall. They followed the sound, the tension between them palpable as they ventured deeper into the building.

The hallway lined with lockers was a chaotic tableau. Police officers huddled together, exchanging information in hushed tones while a few teachers stood off to the side, their faces pale and stricken. The janitor leaned against a wall, wringing his mop in his hands as if trying to cleanse himself of the horror he'd witnessed.

In the center of it all, an open locker yawned wide, revealing a gruesome sight within. Though Sheila couldn't see the body itself, blocked as it was by a police officer crouching to take photographs, she could see the dark crimson pool of blood spreading across the floor.

Her heart sank at the sight, and she fought to keep her emotions in check. The air felt thick with fear, and for the first time in her life, Sheila found herself questioning her ability to face what lay ahead.

The officer taking pictures finally stepped aside, and Sheila's breath caught in her throat as she saw the body. The victim was a young college girl, her fit frame sprawled lifelessly on the cold floor. Her once vibrant eyes were now glazed over, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her blouse was slashed and soaked with blood from the multiple stab wounds that marred her body. A crimson halo framed her head, giving an eerie contrast to her golden hair.

Sheila's stomach churned, and bile rose in her throat as she stared at the gruesome sight before her. She had never seen anything so brutal, so heart-wrenching. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she turned away, unable to look at the mangled corpse any longer.

"Hey," Finn said softly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a comforting hug. "I know it's tough, but you're strong, Sheila. We'll find this monster."

Sheila nodded against Finn's chest, trying to steady her breathing and regain control. As they stood there, Natalie approached them, her wheelchair making almost no noise on the linoleum floor. With a heavy, grave expression on her face, she looked at Sheila.

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