Page 53 of Once Silenced

She remembered the map Officer Burgher had shown her earlier, yet the reality of the sprawling cemetery in the moonlight was much less clear.She knew that Martha Lancaster’s grave lay somewhere straight ahead, and that was where she had to go.

She also knew Putnam and Ann Marie would be closing in on that location as well—Ann Marie from the west, Putnam from the south—but her chosen entry point was closest to the grave.Riley’s hand was firm on the Glock as she crept forward, her body low and eyes scanning the terrain.In the pale glow of the moon, marble and granite stood out sharply.

As she neared the designated spot, her crouch deepened.She was sure a gravestone she’d spotted was the one she sought.But it stood alone in the quiet of the graveyard.She moved closer and saw the inscription highlighted in the moonlight—Martha Lancaster.Yes, this was the right one, but there was no sign of Timothy Lancaster or Gwen Beck.

Riley switched on her cellphone light, the bright LED cutting through shadows.Small disturbances in the earth and grass caught her eye immediately—scuffs, broken twigs, signs of a struggle that had played out in this solemn place.Her gaze followed the evidence.Footprints led westward, some certainly made with a woman’s shoes.

It was possible, maybe even likely, that Gwen Beck had managed to escape Timothy’s grasp, at least momentarily.

She traced the path, and then there they were, abandoned on the dew-covered grass—a pair of women’s shoes, sensible heels that spoke of pragmatic choices.They lay askew, as if tossed aside mid-stride, and Riley felt a pang of empathy for the victim.

Riley knelt beside the shoes, examining them under the pale light of her cellphone.She looked beyond the shoes, seeking the continuation of the trail, but the footprints she had been following dissolved into the disturbances on the soft earth.Timothy and Gwen could be anywhere, and the vast expanse of the graveyard mocked her urgency with its sprawling silence.

Riley’s resolve hardened as she searched deeper into the cemetery.She strained her ears for any sound that might lead her to Timothy and Gwen, but the silence was oppressive, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the faint breeze.

And then, without warning, a figure flitted across her peripheral vision, a fleeting wraith darting from one gravestone to another.Riley’s heart leapt.Adrenaline surged through her veins as she focused on the spot where the figure had vanished.

“Show yourself!”Riley’s authoritative voice sliced through the stillness, her command echoing off the gravestones.“FBI!”

The weight of her Glock felt reassuring in her hand, a familiar comfort amidst the uncertainty that shrouded the graveyard.

A rustling sound drew her attention to a nearby tombstone, where a figure slowly rose from behind it.It was a woman, her silhouette haggard against the silvery light of the moon.Her hands were bound with duct tape, and her clothes—a skirt and a blouse—were torn and soiled.Despite this, the woman’s eyes held a stubborn spark that had yet to be extinguished.

This was Gwen Beck, the missing reporter from Slychester—and she was very much alive.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” Riley said, her voice gentler as she cautiously lowered her Glock.She stepped forward slowly, not wanting to startle the traumatized woman.

But from the shadows, a figure exploded into their fragile bubble of safety—a man with wild eyes and desperation etched into every line of his face.Timothy Lancaster.

He seized Gwen from behind, one arm snaking around her chest while the other brandished a pocketknife at her throat.

“I’ll do it!”he snarled, his voice jagged with madness.“I’ll kill her right here, right now!Go ahead, shoot me afterward if you want!”

Riley’s heart pounded, her mind racing.Timothy was cornered and dangerous, ready to drag his victim down with him.And there she stood, her finger hovering over the Glock’s trigger, knowing that the wrong move could end in tragedy.

“Timothy,” Riley began, her voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding her veins, “I know you’re angry.You think the world has wronged your mother, and now you want to rectify that.”She took a slow step forward, her Glock now pointing harmlessly toward the ground.

“Your mother’s legacy doesn’t have to be this,” she continued, tapping into the empathy that sometimes bridged the gap between hunter and hunted.“Martha wouldn’t have wanted her son to be a murderer.”

Riley watched as Timothy’s eyes flickered with confusion, his resolve wavering for a heartbeat.She knew that each word could be a move towards salvation or catastrophe.

“Let’s talk about it, Timothy,” she said, hoping her words would reach whatever humanity was left within him.She lowered her weapon until it hung by her side, her posture open and non-threatening.She could see the terror etched into the woman’s face, the silent plea for life that resonated with Riley’s own experiences.

“Think about what you’re doing.”Riley’s voice softened further, each syllable deliberate and soothing.“There’s a chance for you to make things right.To honor your mother in a way that doesn’t end in more pain.”

Riley kept her gaze locked on Timothy, searching for a sign of the boy who loved his mother before grief twisted him into the man standing before her.But as she watched, he started to laugh.

I didn’t reach him,Riley realized.

And now Gwen Beck’s doom was but the stroke of a knife away.

Just then, a figure rushed into the scene.It was Ann Marie, who must have been creeping up on the scene unnoticed by all, including Riley.Ann Marie took Timothy by surprise, twisting his knife hand away from Gwen’s throat and hurling him to the ground face down.

“Don’t move,” the young agent said, holding her gun on him.With a whimper, he curled up and made no resistance.Ann Marie cuffed him efficiently.

Riley didn’t waste a second; her feet carried her swiftly across the uneven terrain toward Gwen Beck.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Riley murmured, reaching Gwen and dropping to her level.“You really are safe now.”

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