Page 30 of Silent Home

Finn pulled out his phone and dialed the hotel while Sheila paced the small basement room.After a brief conversation, he lowered the phone.

"He's checking out right now," Finn said."Front desk says he's settling his bill."

They rushed up the basement stairs and out into the cold morning air.The festival's premature end had left Main Street feeling hollow, with only cleanup crews dismantling vendor booths and collecting abandoned programs.The Mountain View Hotel was less than two blocks away, but Sheila found herself jogging, unwilling to risk missing their lead.

They caught sight of Dylan Reeves in the hotel lobby just as he was heading for the exit, rolling suitcase in one hand and garment bag in the other.He moved with the easy confidence of someone who expected doors to open for him.Even in traveling clothes—designer jeans and a cashmere hoodie—he had the polished look of someone ready for a chance encounter with a casting director.

"Mr.Reeves," Sheila called out."Sheriff Stone, Coldwater County.We need to speak with you."

Dylan turned, revealing classically handsome features and the kind of smile that probably got him callback after callback."Listen, I'd love to help, but my flight leaves in two hours.Can we do this another time?"His voice carried the slight remnants of a Texas accent, softened by what Sheila guessed were years of dialect coaching.

"It's about the murders," Finn said quietly.

The smile faltered slightly.Dylan glanced between them, then at his watch—a subtle gesture that somehow managed to convey both concern and mild irritation."I'm not sure how you expect me to be of any help."

"You got the lead role in 'Ghost Light,'" Sheila said."The same role Thomas Rivera auditioned for before he was murdered last night."

Something flickered behind Dylan's eyes—recognition, maybe, or concern.But his expression remained carefully neutral."Thomas Rivera?The hotel employee?"

"You knew him?"

"Not really.I mean, he brought room service a couple times."Dylan shifted his garment bag to his other hand."Look, this is fascinating and all, but I really can't miss that flight.My agent set up meetings with—"

"The killer posed him to match your big scene," Sheila interrupted."The one where you're waiting to hear about parole.Ring any bells?"

That got his attention.Dylan set down his luggage, his casual demeanor slipping just slightly."Shit.You're serious?"

"Very.And we need to understand why the killer chose that scene, that role."Sheila gestured toward the hotel's coffee shop."Twenty minutes of your time could help prevent another murder."

Dylan looked at his watch again, then sighed."Fine.But I'm expense-claiming my changed flight."He managed a weak smile, as if trying to lighten the moment."And I'm going to need coffee.Lots of coffee."

The coffee shop was empty except for a barista restocking pastries.Dylan ordered something complicated with oat milk and extra espresso, then settled into a corner booth.Up close, Sheila could better study his mannerisms—the way he arranged his napkin just so, how he seemed to instinctively choose the seat with the best lighting.Everything about him spoke of someone highly aware of how he presented himself to the world.

"So," Sheila said, "what can you tell us about the audition process?"

"Pretty standard, really."Dylan shrugged as he stirred his coffee."Cold read first, then callbacks with prepared scenes.I connected with the material right away—the whole redemption arc really spoke to me, you know?But I've always been good at evaluating my own strengths and weaknesses."

Sheila noticed how he managed to work in a mention of his acting ability, even while discussing a murder.She found herself wondering if his apparent cooperation was genuine or just another performance.

Dylan took a sip of his coffee, settling back in the booth.His posture was loose, open—either genuine comfort or very good acting."I actually did time for the role," he said, catching their surprised looks."Method stuff, you know?Spent a weekend in county lockup.Called in some favors, got permission to really experience what it's like being behind bars."He grinned."My agent thought I was crazy, but it worked.Got me the part."

"Tell us about the actual audition day," Finn said.

"Let's see...there were maybe fifteen of us?All reading for the lead.They filmed everything—standard practice these days.Helps the creative team review performances later, compare different takes."He paused, tilting his head."Come to think of it, I heard Thomas was really good.Quiet intensity, you know?Different interpretation than mine, by the sound of it, but solid work.He told me afterward he was doing it more as a favor for a friend, though."

"You spoke with him?"

"Just a few words in the waiting room.Think he complimented my boots."Dylan glanced at his watch again, but without the earlier anxiety."Listen, I know what you're thinking.Guy who got the role might have motive to be involved, right?But I was at a Q&A for 'Ghost Light' when Thomas was killed.Had to be thirty people there, all recording it on their phones.Plus the theater's security footage."

He pulled out his phone, bringing up social media posts from the previous night's Q&A.The timestamps supported his story.

Sheila studied him as he scrolled through photos.As far as she could tell, everything checked out.This wasn't the person they were looking for.

That didn't mean they couldn't learn any other useful things from him, though.

"You mentioned they filmed the auditions," she said."Would those recordings still exist?"

"Oh yeah, they keep everything.Liability issues, you know?Plus, it helps casting directors review their choices if anyone ever questions their decisions."He took another sip of coffee."Someone in the production office should have copies."

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