Page 46 of Silent Home

"That hasn't stopped your killer yet, has it?And even if it does… what about when the next festival starts up?Will anyone be safe?"

Sheila closed the case file slowly."We'll verify those alibis," she said."In the meantime, you'll be staying with us."

Wilson nodded, almost serenely."Of course.Though you're wasting precious time.Time others may not have."

Outside the interrogation room, the fluorescent lights in the hallway seemed unnaturally bright after hours of focused questioning.Sheila rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of too many sleepless hours.

"You look like you need food," Finn said, loosening his tie."When's the last time you ate something that wasn't from a vending machine?"

She tried to remember."Yesterday?Maybe?"

"Peak Diner's still open.We could grab something, go over what we know."He checked his watch."Though at this hour it's technically breakfast."

"Breakfast sounds perfect."She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a real meal.Between the festival murders, the discovery of Tommy's laptop, and now Wilson's calm insistence of innocence, everything was starting to blur together.

"Meet you at the car," Finn said."Just need to hit the restroom.All that coffee's catching up with me."

Sheila nodded, already heading for the parking lot.The October night had turned cold while they were inside, and she pulled her jacket closer as she crossed to her truck.The lot was nearly empty this late—just a few patrol cars and her own vehicle sitting beneath flickering sodium lights.

She unlocked the door and climbed in, starting the engine to get some heat going.That's when she noticed it—a scent that didn't belong.Something crisp and masculine, like expensive cologne, but definitely not Finn's familiar scent.

Her hand moved instinctively toward her weapon.

"I wouldn't," said a quiet voice from the back seat."Hands on the steering wheel, please.And don't turn around."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Sheila's hands moved to the wheel, her mind already cataloging details.The voice was cultured, precise—someone educated.The cologne smelled expensive.In her peripheral vision, she caught the edge of what looked like a tailored suit sleeve.

"Who are you?"she asked.

"Drive," he said, ignoring her question."Turn right out of the lot."There was the faintest hint of a lilt in his voice.Irish, maybe?

She pulled out onto Main Street, the truck's headlights catching empty sidewalks where festival crowds had thronged just hours ago.Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror, hoping to see Finn emerging from the building, but the parking lot remained empty.

"Where are we going?"she asked.

"You'll know when we get there."His voice remained pleasant, almost cordial."Take Cedar Street toward the highway."

Cedar Street meant they were heading east, away from downtown.Away from witnesses.Away from help.Sheila ran through her options, dismissing each one:

She could crash the truck deliberately.But at these speeds, she'd likely survive—and so would he.

She could try to draw attention somehow.But the streets were empty this late, and any sudden moves would give her away.

She could attempt to reach the gun in her holster.But surely he'd be ready for that.

She could—

"I know what you're thinking," he said, as if reading her mind."Calculating odds, looking for opportunities.But consider this: If you try anything—anything at all—certain things will be set in motion.Things involving people you care about.Your father, for instance.Or that young girl you took in...Star, isn't it?"

The threat was delivered so casually that Sheila almost had to second-guess what she'd just heard.Had he really just threatened not just her father's life, but Star's as well?Anger began to simmer deep down inside her, somewhere beneath the fear.

They crossed the railroad tracks, leaving the last streetlights behind.The October darkness pressed against the windows, broken only by the truck's headlights illuminating bare trees and empty fields.

"Take the county road," he instructed."The one that parallels the highway."

They were heading into farm country now, past abandoned wheat silos and dark farmhouses set far back from the road.No cars passed them in either direction.Her phone sat in its dashboard mount, screen dark.She wondered if Finn had tried calling yet, if he'd realized something was wrong.

---