Page 20 of Silent Smile

"We should keep moving if we want to catch up with Blackwood," he said over his shoulder.

Sheila felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She had thought becoming sheriff would be the culmination of her career, a chance to make a real difference. But standing there in the vast expanse of the dunes, watching Finn walk away from her, she wondered if the cost might be higher than she'd anticipated.

With a sigh, Sheila followed, her mind whirling with both the case at hand and the personal complications that seemed to be mounting by the hour.

They hiked in silence for another twenty minutes, the only sounds the crunch of sand beneath their boots and their labored breathing in the thin, dry air. Just as Sheila was about to suggest they reassess their route, Finn held up a hand.

"Look," he said, pointing to a distant ridge. "I think I see movement."

Sheila squinted against the glare, her heart rate quickening. Sure enough, she could make out a group of figures moving along the top of a large dune about half a mile away.

"That has to be Blackwood's tour group," she said, already picking up her pace. "Come on, we can intercept them before they start heading back."

As they drew closer, the group came into clearer focus. About a dozen tourists, most middle-aged or older, were gatheredaround a tall, lean man with sun-weathered skin and a mop of unruly brown hair. He was gesturing animatedly, pointing out various features of the landscape.

"...and this particular formation," they could hear him saying as they approached, "is known as a star dune. It's formed by winds coming from multiple directions, creating a complex, multi-armed structure. Quite rare, actually, and a testament to the unique conditions here in the park."

The touristsoohedandaahed, snapping photos with their phones and cameras. The guide—presumably Blackwood—seemed to be in his element, his eyes bright with passion as he explained the intricacies of the dune ecosystem.

Sheila and Finn exchanged a glance before approaching the group. As they drew near, Sheila called out, "Excuse me, Mr. Blackwood?"

The guide turned, his expression curious but not alarmed. "Yes? Can I help you?"

Sheila flashed her badge discreetly. "I'm Sheriff Stone, and this is Deputy Mercer. We'd like to have a word with you if that's alright."

Blackwood's eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded. "Of course. Just give me a moment to wrap up here." He turned back to the tourists, quickly explaining that they'd take a short break before continuing the tour.

As the group dispersed to take photos and rest, Blackwood approached Sheila and Finn. "What can I do for you, Sheriff?"

"First," Sheila said, "would you mind telling us where you were last night, between 8 PM and midnight?"

The change in Blackwood's demeanor was subtle but immediate. His eyes narrowed slightly and his stance shifted, becoming more defensive. "Last night? I was at home, I believe. Why do you ask?"

Sheila watched him carefully as she spoke. "We're investigating the death of Amanda Weller. I'm sure you've heard about it."

Blackwood's expression darkened. "Yes, I heard. Terrible business. But I'm not sure what that has to do with me."

"We're just covering all our bases, Mr. Blackwood," Finn said smoothly. "You spend a lot of time in the park, know the area well. We thought you might have noticed something unusual last night."

Blackwood's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Something unusual? Like a murderer dragging a body through the dunes? No, I'm afraid I didn't see anything like that."

Sheila could feel the conversation slipping away from them. She decided to change tack. "Mr. Blackwood, we understand you've had some... disagreements with park visitors in the past. Particularly those who don't respect the park's rules."

The guide's face flushed, his voice taking on an edge. "If you're implying what I think you're implying, Sheriff, you're way out of line. Yes, I've had confrontations with people who disregard the park's regulations. But that's my job—to protect this fragile ecosystem from those who would damage it for a few likes on social media."

"No one's accusing you of anything, Mr. Blackwood," Sheila said, keeping her voice calm. "We're just trying to understand the full picture. Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts last night?"

Blackwood was silent for a long moment, his jaw working as he seemed to debate how much to say. Finally, he sighed. "I was with someone. A woman I've been seeing. But I'd rather not drag her into this if I don't have to."

"We may need to speak with her to confirm," Finn said. "I'm sure you understand why it's in your best interest to be cleared of this matter."

Blackwood hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But please, be discreet. She's... well, let's just say our relationship is complicated."

Blackwood wrote down the woman's name and number on a scrap of paper and handed it to Sheila. "Alright," he said with a deep breath. "Now, if there's nothing else, I really do need to get back to work."

"Of course," Sheila said with a polite smile. "But we may have some follow-up questions. I'd appreciate it if you'd make yourself available should we need to speak again."

Blackwood's smile was tight. "Of course, Sheriff. Always happy to assist law enforcement. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a tour to finish."

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