Page 32 of Silent Smile

Sheila couldn't help but smile. There was something disarming about the old ranger's demeanor. "Alright, Einar. I'm Sheila, and this is Finn. We were hoping we could ask you a few questions."

"Fire away," Einar said, leaning casually against a nearby truck. "I'm an open book. Been here so long, I'm practically a feature of the park."

"So, Einar," Sheila began, leaning against the truck next to the old ranger, "how long have you been with the park?"

Einar's eyes twinkled as he stroked his white beard. "Oh, let's see now. It was the summer of '78 when I first set foot on these dunes. But I've been in the area all my life. It's in my blood—well, not technically, I suppose."

"How's that?" Sheila asked.

"My parents came over from Iceland, but they passed when I was just a child—house fire. A Southern Paiute family took me in, taught me everything about these lands. The sacred places, the old stories. Gave me a home, a purpose." He sighed deeply. "These dunes... they're not just sand. They're living history."

Sheila smiled, touched by Einar's story. "And what is it you do here?"

Einar chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "After forty-two years, my role has changed a bit. Officially, I don't have any set duties anymore. I just sort of... float around, you might say. Keep an eye on things." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Betweenyou and me, I think they're just waiting for this old Viking to sail off into the sunset, if you catch my meaning."

"Retirement?" Sheila guessed.

Einar nodded, then winked. "But I've got news for them. I'm not going anywhere. This place..." He paused, looking out at the dunes with an expression of deep affection. "It's in my blood now. Couldn't leave if I tried."

Nobody spoke for a few moments. There was no question Einar deeply loved this park.

"Einar," she said, gently steering the conversation back on track, "considering how long you've been working here, you must know everyone. Have you noticed anything unusual lately? Anyone acting out of character?"

Einar shook his head. "These are good people. We've had a few bad apples over the years, sure, but I trust this group. They're committed, high-character people."

"Bad apples?" Finn asked, exchanging a glance with Sheila.

Einar's smile faded slightly, a shadow passing over his face. "Just… past employees. Not everyone shares our vision of this place."

"Are you thinking of someone in particular?" Sheila asked.

Einar hesitated, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "It's probably nothing. Just park gossip, you know?"

"Please, Einar. Anything could be important."

The old ranger sighed, running a hand through his white hair. "Well, alright. There was this fella, Jason Hawke. Used to work here as a ranger. Good kid, or so I thought. Turns out he was smuggling rare desert flowers out and selling them online."

"Desert flowers?" Finn asked. "Is there money in that?"

Einar nodded. "You'd be surprised. Some of these flowers are quite rare. Anyway, when management found out, they fired him on the spot. Jason... he didn't take it well. Made some threats, promised he'd get revenge somehow."

Sheila felt a jolt of excitement. This was the first solid lead they'd had all night. "When did this happen, Einar?"

"Oh, must've been about six months ago now," Einar replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Haven't seen or heard from Jason since. Though I suppose that don't mean much, considering..."

He trailed off, but Sheila could fill in the blanks. Considering there was a killer on the loose, targeting people in the park.

"Did Jason have any particular interest in Native American culture or symbols?" Finn asked, leaning in.

Einar thought for a moment. "You know, now that you mention it, he did. Used to talk about the 'spirit of the dunes' a lot. Said he could feel the presence of the ancient tribes that used to live here. Some of us thought he was just trying to spice up his tours, you know? But maybe there was more to it."

Sheila and Finn exchanged a significant look. This was starting to sound more and more like a promising lead.

"Einar," Sheila said, "is there anything else you can tell us about Jason? Where he lived, who he associated with, anything at all?"

The old ranger scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, he lived in town, I know that much. Shared a place with another ranger, Mick something-or-other. As for associates... he kept to himself mostly. Spent a lot of time out in the dunes alone, which isn't unusual for rangers, but Jason... he took it to another level."

"How so?" Finn asked.

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