Page 40 of Silent Smile

The muscle in his jaw tightened—a tell Sheila had learned to read over their years together, first as partners and now as more. She loved that intensity about him, the way he threw himself completely into a case. But lately, every time she pulled him back, she saw a little more of his passion dim.

Her chest ached at the thought. She'd been so focused on proving herself as Sheriff that she'd forgotten how to be his partner in all the ways that mattered.

Still, she had a job to do. And sometimes that meant disagreeing.

"I want a confession," she said. "I want to hear it from Hawke himself."

Finn threw up his hands in exasperation. "Fine. Let's go talk to him then. But I'm telling you, Sheila, we've got him. This is as solid as it gets."

"Maybe," Sheila murmured, hoping he was right. In her experience, however, the most obvious solution wasn't always the correct one.

***

The interrogation room was cold and sterile, the harsh fluorescent lights doing no favors to Jason Hawke's haggard face. He sat hunched in his chair, his lawyer a silent, stern presence beside him. Sheila and Finn took their seats across the table, Sheila clutching the folder containing the lab results.

"Jason," Finn began, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We need to talk about the shovel."

Hawke's eyes darted between them, looking confused. "I told you that wasn't mine. I don't have any idea how—"

"The lab results came back, Jason," Sheila said. "The two hikers who went missing in the park and were later found buried up to their necks in sand? This shovel has their blood on it."

The color drained from Hawke's face. "That's... that's impossible. I've never even met those hikers!"

Finn leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table. "Look, I get it. You lost your job, your reputation. Everything you worked for, gone in an instant. The park took everything from you, and that made you angry."

Hawke's lawyer shifted, about to intervene, but Hawke waved him off.

Finn continued, "Maybe these people, Weller and Donovan, they discovered what you were doing. Threatened to expose you. You panicked. It wasn't premeditated. Things just... got out of hand."

"No!" Hawke's fist came down on the table with a bang that made everyone jump. "You don't understand. Yes, I continued selling rare plants after being fired. I admit that. It was stupid, and I'm not proud of it. But I never hurt anyone. Never!"

Sheila, who had been silently observing, spoke up. "Then explain the shovel, Jason. How did it end up in your yard, covered in the victims' blood?"

Hawke's eyes darted around the room, looking like a trapped animal. "Someone's framing me, alright? That's the only logical explanation!"

"Is it?" Finn asked in a low voice. "Or is the logical explanation that you were so angry about how you were treated, felt so slighted, that you took it out on two innocent hikers? It wasn't about them violating restricted areas, was it? No, you picked them because they were isolated, vulnerable."

"No," Hawke groaned, cradling his head. "This can't be happening. I had nothing to do with this, I swear!"

"Then who?" Finn asked. "You expect us to believe the real murderer is still out there, and you're just—what? A victim of circumstance?"

Suddenly, Hawke dropped his hands and looked up, his eyes wide as if he'd just had a revelation. "Mick," he murmured. "It must have been Mick."

Sheila leaned forward, intrigued by this new development. "Mick? Your roommate?"

Hawke nodded vigorously, words tumbling out in a rush. "Yes. We're... we're business partners. In the plant selling. He must have... oh god." He put his head in his hands again. "The victims must have figured out what we were doing. Mick probably killed them to protect our operation."

Finn scoffed. "Come on, Jason. You expect us to believe your roommate is suddenly the killer? That's a bit convenient, don't you think?"

But Hawke was shaking his head, his eyes wide and pleading. "No, you don't understand. Mick... he's always been the more aggressive one. He's the one who pushed to expand our operation after I got fired. He said we could make real money if we were smart about it."

Sheila exchanged a glance with Finn before turning back to Hawke. "Go on," she said. "Tell us more about Mick's involvement."

"Mick knows the dunes even better than I do," Hawke said. "He's been hiking out there for years, knows all the secret spots. And he's got a temper, you know? I've seen him lose it over little things. If someone threatened our business... I could see him snapping."

Finn leaned back, his arms crossed. "And you're just telling us this now? After we found the murder weapon in your yard?"

Hawke's face crumpled. "I didn't... I didn't want to believe it. Mick's my friend. Or I thought he was. But now, with the shovel... it has to be him. It's the only thing that makes sense."

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