Page 39 of Silent Trail

"Alright," she said, stifling a yawn. "Let's get to the bottom of this, then."

Natalie's keen gaze settled on Sheila, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Sheila," she said gently, her voice surprisingly tender, "why don't you head home and get some rest? We'll be fine here."

Sheila shook her head. She didn't like quitting while others kept working. "I can handle it, Nat," she said.

Natalie's wheelchair squeaked softly as she adjusted her position. "Look, you're not an official police officer. Besides, we can let you know if there are any developments."

As much as Sheila hated the idea of leaving while they did all the work, she couldn't deny that her body was practically screaming for sleep. Her eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by lead, and her legs trembled with fatigue. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that she would be much sharper if she got a little rest.

"Fine," she relented, exhaling a heavy sigh. She fished the keys to the van out of her pocket and handed them to Finn, who in turn passed her the keys to his vehicle.

"Be careful with my ride," Finn said. "She's like a daughter to me." He winked to show he wasn't entirely serious.

"Take care of yourself, Sheila," Natalie said. "We need you at your best."

Sheila nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. As she watched Natalie and Finn move off, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy toward their unwavering partnership. She wished she could be more like them—strong, determined, and always ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see an automated message from her wireless company updating her on a policy change. She ignored the message, but before closing her phone, she noticed a different message, one her father had sent earlier: Hey, Sheila, if you're in the area, feel free to stop by. I'd love to see you.

That's odd, Sheila thought. When is he ever so...casual? Is there something going on that I don't know about?

Whatever the case, it would be good to have somewhere to crash since her own house was still very much a work in progress.

She started walking again, following the hallway back to the waiting room and then taking the exit. The chilled night air bit at her skin as she stepped out of the hospital, but it did little to wake her. She trudged toward Finn's vehicle, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As she settled into the driver's seat, she vowed to herself that she wouldn't let her exhaustion get the better of her. She would rest up, clear her mind, and return to the investigation with renewed vigor—for the sake of the victims and for her own sense of purpose.

"Sleep," she whispered to herself, gripping the steering wheel tightly, "just a few hours, and then back to the case."

As she pulled the door of Finn's vehicle shut, however, she found herself thinking back to what Kyle had said in the hospital room. Her fingers danced across the steering wheel, the textured leather a stark contrast to the smooth metal of the keys in her other hand.

"Kyle," she muttered under her breath, feeling a knot tighten in her chest as she considered his claims. Was he telling the truth when he claimed he'd only harassed the victims online, rather than killing them?

She started the car and drove off, the engine's low hum accompanying her thoughts. As she navigated the dark streets, she couldn't shake the image of Kyle's frightened face when they interrogated him. What if there was more to his story? He'd been bullied, yes, which gave him motive, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who would actually confront his enemies to their faces. He seemed more like—

Well, like the type of person who would anonymously attack them online instead of attacking them in person.

Troubled by these thoughts, Sheila pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed her phone, her curiosity urging her to dig deeper. She navigated to Kyle's blog, the screen illuminating her face with an eerie glow. Her heart raced as she scrolled through the posts, each one a cruel reminder of the pain the victims had endured.

Ami deserved what happened to her, part of one post read. She thought she was untouchable, but now everyone knows the truth. Another post targeted a different victim: Jane played with people's emotions like it was a game. Well, now it's game over for her.

The venomous words seemed to seep from the screen, leaving a bitter taste in Sheila's mouth. Each post was a twisted mix of rumors and threats, all aimed at tearing down the victims and justifying their fates.

"Is this really just harassment, or is there something more?" she whispered. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle that lay before her.

Her gaze was drawn to the comments section beneath Kyle's posts. Some of these comments were even more vicious than the original posts, filled with hate and an insatiable thirst for retribution. Jane got what she deserved, one comment read. I hope they all suffer like they made others suffer.

Sheila's heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears as the weight of the words on the screen settled into her soul. The cruel remarks seemed to multiply before her eyes, a cacophony of voices reveling in the pain and torment of the victims.

Can't wait for the next one to bite the dust, another commenter wrote, followed by a string of laughing emojis. This town needs a good cleansing.

There was something far more violent, far darker, about these comments than anything in the posts Kyle had written. These comments pulled no punches, made no efforts to tone down the vitriol. They were full of pure, unadulterated hate.

It was then that Sheila noticed something else, as well. Nearly all of the most hateful comments had been posted by the same user: DarkReaper88. The username sent a shiver down Sheila's spine.

Could this person be the real killer?

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

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