Page 55 of Silent Home

"There," Finn said suddenly."Service elevator."

A construction lift ran up the side of the building, currently holding painting supplies.It would be slow and noisy, but it might be their best option.

Before they could decide how to proceed, movement caught her eye—a figure on the scaffolding above, moving with practiced ease through the metal framework.Even from this distance, she could see he carried something bulky—probably a camera bag or hard drives.

"There," she said."Northeast corner."

But as they watched, Thorne disappeared into a maze of wooden platforms and tarps.The renovation had created dozens of hiding places, multiple escape routes.

"We need to split up," Finn said."Cover more ground."

Sheila nodded reluctantly."You take the fire escape.I'll try the service elevator.But Finn?"She caught his arm."Be careful."

"You're the one whose truck was just hijacked," he said.

"We'll both be careful, then."

They separated, each moving toward their chosen access point.Sheila reached the construction lift and hit the call button.Nothing happened.

"Power's out, remember?"a nearby worker called helpfully.

Of course.The power outage would affect the exterior lift too.She looked up at the scaffolding, mentally plotting a route.It wouldn't be comfortable, but she'd done worse during her kickboxing days.

A flash of movement above—someone crossing between buildings on a wooden platform.She caught a glimpse of camera equipment, a black bag that could hold hard drives or evidence.

Or weapons.

Sheila grabbed the scaffolding and began to climb.

The metal pipes were cold against Sheila's hands, years of kickboxing training making her movements efficient despite her exhaustion.Construction debris made each step treacherous—loose boards, coils of wire, abandoned tools that could shift under her weight.

Fifteen feet up, she paused to catch her breath behind a stack of plywood.The scaffolding created a three-dimensional maze, platforms intersecting at odd angles, tarps billowing in the morning wind.Somewhere above, Thorne was moving through this artificial forest of metal and wood.She could hear footsteps, but the sound echoed strangely off the building's facade, making it impossible to pinpoint his location.

Her radio crackled softly—Finn, keeping her updated on his position."No sign of him on the fire escape.But there's equipment scattered everywhere up here.Looks like he left in a hurry."

"Copy that," she whispered."Stay alert.He knows this layout better than we do."

She continued climbing, staying close to the building's wall where the scaffolding was most stable.At the second floor, she found more evidence of Thorne's hasty departure—a camera lens dropped near an equipment case, cables tangled around a support beam.

A door slammed somewhere above.Sheila froze, listening.Then came the distinct sound of someone moving across wooden planks, heading east toward the adjacent building's roof.

"Finn," she said into her radio."He's moving between buildings.East side."

"Copy.But Sheila—there's a gap there.A good fifteen feet between structures."

She reached the third floor platform and saw what he meant.A makeshift bridge of wooden planks spanned the alley between buildings, secured with what looked like hastily tied rope.Beyond it, the flat roof of the neighboring furniture store offered multiple escape routes—fire escapes, utility access, even another set of scaffolding where that building was also under renovation.

Movement caught her eye—Thorne was already halfway across the makeshift bridge, a heavy bag slung over his shoulder.He moved with surprising grace for someone carrying equipment, clearly familiar with this improvised path.

"Stop!Police!"she called out, knowing he wouldn't but required to make the announcement.

Thorne glanced back.Even from this distance, she could see the camera hanging around his neck, could imagine him documenting everything, turning even this pursuit into a performance.

She started across the wooden planks.They shifted under her weight, the rope creaking ominously.Below, the alley waited, three stories of empty air between her and the pavement.

"Careful," Finn's voice crackled through her radio."That rigging doesn't look stable."

Thorne had reached the other side.Instead of running, though, he turned to watch her crossing.The camera came up to his eye—was he filming this?Creating another scene for his collection?

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