Page 5 of Silent Home

Sheila stared at the laptop in her hands, her mind racing.A murder at the festival would be devastating for Coldwater.Main Street's shops and restaurants had been packed all week, local hotels were booked solid, and the surge in tourism was exactly what the town's struggling businesses needed.One whisper of violence could destroy everything these merchants had been counting on.

Her heart sank at the thought.

"Did you hear me?"Finn asked.

"Yeah," she said, then cleared her throat, focusing on what he'd just told her.She thought of all the festival promotional materials she'd seen plastered across storefront windows—the promises of artistic celebration and cultural enrichment now tainted by violence."I'll be right there."

Tommy's laptop would have to wait.But not for long, she hoped.And when she figured out who'd sent Tommy to spy on her and then try to end her life, who'd had her mother murdered…

There would be hell to pay.

CHAPTER TWO

The festival had transformed Main Street into something from another world.Food trucks lined the curbs, their generators humming beneath the morning bustle.The smell of fresh-ground coffee mingled with woodsmoke from a nearby BBQ vendor, and somewhere a street musician played jazz on a saxophone, the notes drifting through the crisp October air.

Sheila pulled into the back lot of the Coldwater Theater, where three patrol cars were already parked in a loose semi-circle around the emergency exit.The sight of them—their light bars still flashing silently in the early morning sun—made her stomach tighten.

Another death.Another family that would need answers.

As she climbed out of her truck, she spotted Finn crouched near the exit door, studying something on the ground.Even from here, she could read the tension in his shoulders, the careful way he shifted his weight to favor his recently healed injury.He'd taken that bullet when she could just as easily have been the one to get shot, and though he never mentioned it, she knew it still bothered him on cold mornings like this one.

"Find something?"she called.

He looked up, and despite the grim circumstances, his face softened at the sight of her.It was one of the things she loved about him—how his guard dropped, just for a moment, whenever she appeared.His hazel eyes caught the morning light, and his sandy hair was slightly mussed, which she found endlessly endearing.

"Just trying to figure out these prints," he said, standing.His tall frame unfolded, his posture ramrod straight—a remnant of his fighter pilot days."But there are too many of them overlapping each other.Can't tell which ones are recent."

She joined him at the door, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with coffee.This close, she could see the shadows under his eyes."You haven't slept."

"That's what happens when you have back-to-back homicide investigations.Besides, you don't look much better—well, except that you're a lot prettier."

She humored him with a smile.

"Star asked about you this morning," he continued."Said to remind you about her art show next week."

The mention of their ward brought a smile to Sheila's face.Star had come so far from the angry, defensive fourteen-year-old they'd taken in.Now she was thriving in her photography classes, even teaching Finn how to use his old DSLR camera properly.

Sheila felt proud of Star—and proud of herself and Finn for the home they'd created for Star, too.

"I haven't forgotten," she said."I was actually hoping to see what she's been up to later this evening, but after this..."She gestured at the theater.

Finn nodded, understanding."I told her we might be working late.She said she'd stay at your dad's if needed."

The door creaked as Finn pulled it open, revealing a dimly lit service corridor.The air felt thick with dust and the musty smell of old carpet.

"Victim's Jessica Gregory, twenty-four," Finn said as they walked."Local actress, worked concessions here during the festival.Chad Miller—he's the projectionist—found her about an hour ago when he came to check the sound system.Apparently they've been having technical difficulties with this theater, so it's been closed since yesterday afternoon."

"Locked?"

Finn nodded."Chad says he locked up yesterday.The doors were still locked when he came by about an hour ago."

"Could someone have locked it without a key?"Sheila asked.

"Not unless they stayed inside.And the place has been thoroughly checked."

They emerged into Theater Seven, where the scene before them made Sheila stop short.The movie screen glowed with soft white light, illuminating the stage area below.And there, positioned with theatrical precision, was Jessica Gregory.

The young woman sat in an ornate chair that must have been borrowed from one of the festival's prop departments.Her hands were folded delicately in her lap, her head tilted as if listening to something only she could hear.She wore a blue vintage dress that seemed to shimmer in the light, its fabric spreading around her like a pool of water.

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