Page 8 of When 're Silent

“I’ll pick you up,” he offered.

"Okay, but no terrible jokeson the drive," she said. "Otherwise, there'll be a third murdervictim."

“See you soon,” Finn said with alaugh.

He ended the call, the silence ofthe gym settling around him like a cloak. He could sense the curiosity of theother patrons, their gazes lingering just a little too long, but he paid themno heed. His world had narrowed to the task ahead—to the challenge that awaitedhim beyond the grime-streaked walls of this place of sweat and exertion.

As he gathered his things, hismovements deliberate and precise, he felt the familiar surge of adrenalinebegin to course through his veins. The thrill of the chase, the intricate danceof wits and wills—it was all coming back to him. For better or worse, FinnWright was about to dive back into the depths to navigate the murky waters ofmurder and malice.

CHAPTER FOUR

Finn maneuvered the unmarked policevehicle through the serpentine bends of the coastal road, its tires crunchingover a mixture of gravel and frost. Amelia Winters watched as the bleak Januarylandscape unfolded beside them—an expanse where the North Sea met the EastCoast of England in a frigid marriage. The sea churned, steel-colored wavestopped with froth, colliding with the rocky shore in a relentless assault.Salt-laden gusts swept inland, carrying with them the whispers of ancientshipwrecks and maritime secrets. Skeletal trees bent away from the ocean’sbreath, and the sky was a canvas of oppressive gray, as if it mourned the sunit had lost.

The desolation of the coastmirrored Finn’s recent demeanor—distant, cold, and enigmatic. Amelia foundsolace in his silent company but couldn’t help but feel bewildered by the chasmthat had formed between them. Only weeks ago, they had brushed shoulders withdeath, their lives hanging by a thread as they pursued a killer throughtreacherous waters. It was then, with adrenaline still saturating his voice,that Finn confessed his love for her. But those words now felt like echoes inan empty hall, the memory tinged with the aftertaste of unspoken regrets.

Amelia’s thoughts oscillatedbetween moments of danger and tenderness, their partnership an intricate dancearound the flames of intimacy. She wondered if Finn’s reluctance stemmed fromsomething she had inadvertently done or said. Or perhaps it was the weight ofhis past—a failed relationship, a suspension dangling over him like Damocles’sword, and the specter of civil court proceedings—that kept him at arm’slength. His eyes, usually so revealing, were now shuttered windows behind whichshe could only guess at the turmoil.

Questions bubbled within her,seeking an outlet, yet she hesitated to voice them. They traveled together, twokindred spirits bound by duty and shadowed by memories, each step forward miredin uncertainty. As Finn steered the car through another curve, the skeletalbranches reached towards them like bony fingers, scraping against the backdropof a somber sky. A silence hung between them, thick as the coastal fog thatsometimes blanketed these shores—and just as impenetrable.

The relentless January wind clawedat the coastline, tearing through the barren fields and gnarled trees thatdotted the rural landscape. Swells of gray ocean rose and fell like the raggedbreaths of the earth itself, their crashes against the cliffs a naturalpercussion that underscored the isolation of the East Coast of England thistime of year. Finn’s hands were steady on the wheel as he navigated the narrowroad, the car a lone sentinel passing through the desolate expanse.

“Know anything about the placewhere this all went down?” Finn’s voice broke the silence, his gaze brieflyflicking to Amelia before returning to the road.

Amelia shifted in her seat, hereyes drawn to the stark contrast of the dark water churning beside the frostedland. “It’s a mansion just outside Thornheart,” she replied, noting the slightlift of Finn’s eyebrow at the name. “Sounds befitting of a murder mystery,doesn’t it?”

“Thornheart,” Finn repeated, anamused smirk tugging at his lips. “Sounds like the setting of every Gothicnovel ever written. Sometimes I think you’re all making fun of me with theseplace names.”

“Quite the contrary,” Amelia mused,folding her arms across her chest. “It’s got history. The village is known fora Saxon knight who supposedly fended off a Viking invasion almostsingle-handedly Local legend has it that his spirit still watches over Thornheart.”

A chuckle escaped Finn as heenvisioned such a scene—the clash of steel and the cries of warriors long gone.“I hope the villagers are more welcoming than their ancestral guardian,” hesaid, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“Speaking of Vikings,” Ameliaquipped, casting a sidelong glance at Finn, “you do have that Scandinavian lookabout you. Better hope they don’t harbor any grudges.”

“Ah, but I come bearing the gift ofNew World charm,” Finn retorted. “That comes in handy against swords and pointysticks.”

The laughter between them was afleeting reprieve, a momentary respite from the gravity of their profession andthe complexity of their feelings. Yet beneath the banter, there was anacknowledgment—an unvoiced recognition of the bond that had been forged in thecrucible of danger and the shared pursuit of criminals. It was a camaraderiethat danced precariously on the edge of something deeper, something neither ofthem had yet found the courage to explore fully.

The road ahead curved gently,leading them further into the heart of an enigma that would test their resolve.And as they drew closer to Thornheart, the very air seemed charged with thewhispers of secrets waiting to be unearthed, each turn bringing them one stepnearer to the truth that lay shrouded within the walls of the ominous mansion.

The countryside unfurled aroundthem like a brooding tapestry, its colors muted under the overcast January sky.The road snaked between two monolithic hills that rose like ancient sentinelson either side. Amelia’s eyes traced their craggy faces, half-expecting to seethe echoes of old legends carved into the stone. The East Coast of Englandnever failed to remind her of the country’s enduring history—a past steeped inblood and bravery.

As they descended into the valley,the quaint image of Thornheart village emerged, nestled within the arms of thelandscape as if cradled by the very hands of time. Beyond the clustered roofs,an imposing structure commanded attention, its grandeur undiminished by thedistance. The mansion—where death had most recently left its indeliblemark—loomed like a silent titan, windows gazing out over the village with analmost sentient watchfulness.

Amelia could sense the mansion’spresence pressing against the car windows, its dark silhouette dominating thesurrounding buildings and etching itself into her thoughts. The vehicle hummedbeneath her, steady and reliable, much like Finn’s unwavering focus wheneverthey approached the heart of an investigation. Yet today, a different kind ofapprehension stirred within her.

“Beautiful and haunting,” Ameliamurmured, her voice barely above the thrum of the engine. “A dangerouscombination. I used to dream of places like this when I was little, being adetective and solving cases. But instead of it being a childhood adventure,it’s always been more complicated. Some places feel like they were born toremain a mystery.”

“Or perhaps this is where mysteriesgo to die,” Finn replied, his gaze briefly meeting hers before returning to theroad. “You know, like an old folks home for mysteries. I hear the staff aren’tvery welcoming there, but the soup is a real treat.”

“Do you ever take anythingseriously?” Amelia asked with a smile.

“Some things, Amelia.”

She knew he meant something bythat. He always did when he used her first name.

The silence stretched between them,laden with words that hung unsaid. Amelia’s mind wandered back to thatharrowing day when they had both nearly drowned on a case, water closing in,breaths coming short, and Finn’s voice breaking through the fear—words utteredin the rawness of near-death that had not been spoken of since.

She had hoped to speak with himabout it at Christmas. But when he turned down her invitation to Christmasdinner with her family, she wondered if he now regretted saying it. Amelia hadwaited long enough.

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