Page 51 of Silent Trail

"Rest would be great," Sheila agreed, but there was one question that still nagged at her. "But who was the murderer?"

Finn crossed his arms and sighed. "As of now, all we know is what we've learned from the contents of his wallet. His name is John Reagan Dreyer. He was a student at Coldwater Community College, but he was in an internship program that led him to visit other local campuses, including Clearview University and Elbridge College, where the bodies of the other two victims were found. That was how he was able to visit the other campuses without arousing suspicion." He shook his head. "I don't know why Dreyer murdered those girls, though."

Sheila closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the desperate look in Dreyer's eyes as he'd revealed his motives to her. "I know why," she said. "He told me about how he'd been bullied by the victims – and others – at a party. They forced him to jump from a balcony into a pool." She paused, the memory unsettling. "The problem was that he stumbled and landed on concrete, breaking his leg. He never stopped wanting revenge for that."

Natalie's expression softened, and she looked away, her fingers tightening around the wheels of her chair. "I understand what it's like to be bitter over such an injury," she murmured, "but that doesn't give anyone the right to resort to violence."

Sheila watched her sister, her heart aching at the reminder of the pain Natalie had endured. She wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but she knew that words would never be enough to heal the wounds they both shared. Instead, she focused on the glimmer of hope that had been ignited within her—the opportunity to make a difference in this world.

"Sometimes," Sheila said softly, "the monsters we face are created by our own hands."

Finn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'd toast to that, if I could. Well, Nat, what do you say I get you both home? It's been a long day."

Natalie nodded, stifling a yawn. "I'm on board with that plan."

The night air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and gasoline as they made their way toward the van, the flashing lights from the emergency vehicles casting surreal shadows on the ground. Sheila could feel her muscles tense and relax with each step, the adrenaline slowly leaving her body after the intense confrontation with Dreyer.

"Y'know," Finn said, breaking the silence between them, "I'm going to have a hard time forgiving you for wrecking my car."

Sheila shot him a sidelong glance, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Last I checked, it was Dreyer who totaled your car, not me."

Finn huffed, feigning annoyance, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Oh, sure. Blame it on the crazy sociopath. How convenient."

They shared a laugh, the tension easing further from their bodies. It felt good to find humor in the midst of such darkness.

Riding this wave of good feelings, Sheila decided to ask Finn a question that had been on her mind for a while now. "What's the deal with the necklace?" she asked. "I couldn't help noticing it earlier. I'm not trying to be pushy, I'm just—"

"Curious?" He arched an eyebrow.

She nodded. "That's right. I can tell it's important to you."

Finn glanced at Natalie, who had moved on ahead of them, speeding along in her wheelchair. He sighed, sounding suddenly weary. "It's a long story," he said, "and it's very late to begin a long story."

Sheila said nothing for several heartbeats. It was indeed late, but she sensed that there was no telling when he might be willing to open up again. She wanted to strike while the iron was hot.

"Give me the cliff notes, then," she said. "Where'd you get it?"

He stared ahead, his eyes solemn. "It was in my survival gear back when I was flying F-35s."

Sheila waited. When she realized he wasn't going to volunteer anything more, she asked, "And is that why it's significant to you? Just because you had it when you were a fighter pilot?"

"Just?"

"I'm not trying to say it's insignificant." She paused, gathering her words. "I'm just wondering if there's something more to it. I don't see you still wearing your pilot's helmet around."

The remark seemed to catch Finn by surprise, and he laughed. "Fair enough." Growing serious again, he reached into his shirt and pulled out the compass. "This little guy saved my life. That's why I hold onto it. It reminds me of what almost happened…and what I almost did."

The words puzzled Sheila. Just then, however, her phone buzzed in her pocket, the vibration startling her.

"Don't you think you should get that?" Finn asked.

She hesitated. "Yes, but I want to hear what you have to say. What almost happened? What did you almost do?"

He smiled sadly and waved a dismissive hand. "Another time, Sheila. Like I said, it's a long story."

They had reached the van. Natalie was already inside, and now Finn climbed in. It was clear to Sheila that they weren't going to be able to continue their conversation. As curious as she was to hear what Finn had meant, she needed to respect his boundaries.

Before joining Finn and Natalie in the van, Sheila pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. She had a new voicemail from her father. She remembered he had texted her earlier about having dinner together, but this message seemed more urgent.

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