Page 36 of Silent Trail

At last, they reached the bottom of the ravine, where an eerie stillness prevailed. A shallow stream crawled through the rocky terrain, its waters glinting like veins of silver in the moonlight. Trees loomed overhead, casting dark shadows that stretched across the ground like grasping hands.

"Nothing," Finn said, frustration evident in his voice. "I can't see any sign of him."

"Keep looking," Sheila insisted.

"Wait," Finn said, holding up a finger as his phone rang. He answered, nodding as Natalie's voice came through the speaker. "Yeah, Nat, we're there now. No sign of him yet." He paused, listening. "I know, but we can't give up on him. We have to try."

As Finn spoke with Natalie, Sheila continued her search, tuning out their conversation. Her gaze darted between the shadows, seeking any hint of movement or life. And then, just as she was about to give up hope, her eyes caught a glimpse of something pale and motionless.

"Hey!" she shouted, her heart pounding in her chest. "I think I found something!"

"Stay there," Finn said, ending the call with Natalie. "I'm coming."

Sheila's heart raced as she rushed toward the pale, lifeless hand protruding from the shadows.

"Kyle!" she called, her voice desperate and raw. She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands shaking as she reached out to examine his crumpled form.

"Over here, Finn!" she shouted, her eyes never leaving Kyle. "Call an ambulance!"

Kyle lay on the cold ground, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. His scrawny frame was barely visible under a layer of dirt and blood, and his face was a mask of pain and confusion. One of his legs was bent unnaturally, clearly broken, and a jagged wound marred his forehead, blood oozing sluggishly down the side of his face. Despite his injuries, he was still breathing, albeit shallowly.

"Hey," Sheila said. "You're going to be okay, alright? Just stay with me."

Kyle's glassy eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with an expression of anguish. "I...I'm sorry," he said.

"Sorry for what?"

I never meant to hurt anyone," he groaned, his words slurred and barely audible. "It was all just a fantasy—it wasn't really supposed to happen."

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sheila stared at the dull, flickering fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room, her gaze unfocused and her thoughts racing. The sterile scent of disinfectant and the low murmur of hushed conversations filled the air around her. Her right leg jittered restlessly, the rhythmic tapping of her foot betraying her impatience.

As a former Olympic kickboxer, she was no stranger to hospitals, but this visit was different. This time, the life of their prime suspect hung in the balance.

The door to the waiting room creaked open, and Natalie wheeled herself in. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and her eyes were sharp with determination as they scanned the room. Despite her injury, she exuded an aura of authority—a sheriff who refused to be held back by her physical limitations.

"Is he still alive?" she asked, her voice tense.

"Kyle's stable for now," Sheila said, her gaze meeting Natalie’s. "But it's unclear when he'll wake up. His leg was broken from the fall, and he sustained other injuries as well. The doctors are concerned he might slip into a coma."

Sheila's chest tightened at the thought. If Kyle fell into a coma, they might never get the answers they desperately needed. Their investigation hinged on what he knew, and even though it seemed there was a good chance Kyle was the one responsible for the murders, they wouldn't know until they had a chance to speak with him.

"Damn," Natalie muttered under her breath, her hands gripping the wheels of her chair tightly. "We can't afford to lose him."

Sheila nodded, her heart heavy with frustration. She glanced over at Finn, who stood silently near the window, his tall form casting a long shadow across the linoleum floor. The deputy's eyes were distant, unreadable as his fingers brushed at his sternum, stroking the compass necklace hidden beneath the fabric.

What's he thinking? Sheila wondered, wishing she could ask him. And what's the deal with that necklace? Had she been alone with him, she might very well have asked both questions, but she didn't want to put him on the spot in front of Natalie. Knowing how reserved and private a person he seemed to be, she had a feeling he would only change the topic, perhaps telling a joke or bringing up something about the case.

She would just have to find an opportunity when they were alone.

It was past midnight, and the once bustling hospital had quieted significantly. The only sounds that punctured the silence were the beeping of distant machines, the occasional footsteps of a nurse or doctor, and the ticking of an old clock above the reception desk.

As they waited, Sheila's gaze drifted to her sister, noticing the subtle tension in Natalie's shoulders as she maneuvered her wheelchair closer. The sterile smell of antiseptic and the faint hum of fluorescent lights brought back memories that sent a shiver down Sheila's spine.

She found herself thinking back to when Natalie had been shot a month ago, and the panicked rush to get her to the hospital. She could still feel the cold metal of the ambulance railing beneath her fingers as she clung to it, holding Natalie's hand tightly. The blaring siren had been deafening, but not nearly as loud as the panicked voice screaming that she might lose her sister forever.

They'd spent hours in another waiting room, just like this one, their dad and brother pacing like caged animals while Natalie was in surgery. After what felt like an eternity, they took turns sitting beside her bed, watching for any sign of movement or consciousness. It was one of the scariest experiences of Sheila's life, and the stark white walls and clinical atmosphere of this hospital brought it all rushing back.

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