Page 16 of Once Silenced

She ended the call and stepped out of the car.The atmosphere of the park hummed with life, bird calls echoing amidst the rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze.The visitor’s center was a rustic building of dark wood and stone that seemed to rise naturally from the forest floor.Only a few other cars were parked in the lot.

When Riley pushed open the door to the visitor center, the air inside was cool.The walls were covered with maps of trails and framed photos of wildlife, but the displays went unnoticed as Riley made her way across the concrete floor.Two other people studying trail map ignored her, and she followed a narrow hallway lined with doors bearing brass nameplates to one that was marked Superintendent Bern Stewart.

She gave a knock, then entered a utilitarian room with a large metal desk dominating the space.Behind it sat Bern Stewart, his face as rugged as the mountains outside, lines etched by years of squinting into the sun and wind.Special Agent Ivor Putnam stood to the side, his features sharp and eyes calculating, taking her measure as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

Putnam was a strong-looking man in his thirties, with a military-style haircut and dark eyes.He stood rigid, his face impassive, a study in control.Even his suit seemed pressed to defy any hint of disorder, the fabric taut over broad shoulders that appeared unyielding.

Riley presented her badge and introduced herself to the two men.

“Agent Paige,” Stewart began, his voice echoing the doubt in his gaze.“I hope you understand my skepticism about this whole situation.Murders in Roanoke and Slippery Rock, and suddenly we’re involved way out here Blue Ridge Park?It doesn’t sit right.”

Riley felt the familiar tug of duty clashing with the frustration of bureaucratic obstacles.She met his eyes steadily, knowing the importance of bridging these gaps, of forging trust amid doubt.Her response would set the tone for their cooperation—or lack thereof.

“I appreciate your concerns, superintendent,” she replied.“But we’re here to follow a lead, no matter how unlikely that might seem.”

“Let’s not waste time,” Special Agent Ivor Putnam’s voice interrupted.“We’re here to investigate a potential crime scene, not debate jurisdictions.”

Riley recognized Putnam’s type: all precision and protocol, a man who measured worth in facts alone.Yet beneath his austere exterior, she sensed a drive that matched her own, even if their methods and personalities might diverge.She reminded herself that they shared a common goal.And for that, she could endure his abrasiveness—at least for now.

Stewart sighed and pulled out a detailed map of the park.“These are the coordinates you mentioned: 38.517 latitude and -78.4368 longitude.It’s in a fairly remote area.I’ll lead you there.”

They strode back through the building, and Stewart headed toward his parked truck, a vehicle that appeared rugged and capable against the backdrop of untamed wilderness.

“You’ll have to take care on these roads,” Stewart called back to them, an edge of concern in his voice that matched the creases lining his sun-weathered face.

“My company car rides a little higher than yours,” Riley told Putnam.“You might as well come with me.”

She didn’t comment that his vehicle also seemed too clean and shiny for a trip along forest roads that weren’t open to the public.

Without comment, Putnam headed for the passenger seat of her car, and she slipped behind the wheel.They followed Stewart to a gravel turnout off the main road that was blocked by a metal bar.Stewart got out and unlocked the barrier, then drove his car on through, and Riley followed with her vehicle.From that point on, the roads were rougher, but each turn revealed stunning vistas.

The car’s tires crunched over the gravel, and dust swirled in their wake as they wound deeper into the park, the dense forest closing in around them.The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of leaves overhead, dappling the narrow road while squirrels darted across their path and birds swooped low, their calls echoing in the stillness.

Even so, Putnam’s focus seemed to be internal, his eyes fixed on something beyond the landscape—perhaps on the case, or some calculation known only to him.

In an attempt to pierce the bubble of strained silence, Riley cleared her throat gently.

“I’ve heard impressive things about your work, Agent Putnam,” she said, keeping her voice even and non-confrontational.

His response was swift and sharp.

“And you’re something of a BAU legend, Agent Paige,” Putnam said, his voice devoid of warmth.

Before she could form a polite thank-you, he cut her off.

“I didn’t mean that as a compliment.I believe in facts, not legends.”

Riley turned her head slightly, her dark eyes studying the agent beside her.He sat rigid, his posture projecting an authority that seemed to demand respect but offered little in return.

“Facts like the clue on the quiz sheets that led us here?The one your team missed?”Riley asked, allowing herself a small victory as she pointed out the oversight.

Putnam’s jaw tightened, and he turned to face her, his eyes narrowing.

“We didn’t miss it entirely.One of my officers solved the equations.She just...didn’t notice the significance of the answers.They just looked like ordinary worksheets to her.So naturally, the rest of us figured the worksheets were meant as labels, as if to say, ‘Here’s a dead math teacher.’”

Riley heard the frustration beneath Putnam’s defensive exterior and bit back a sharp reply.One thing seemed certain—he wasn’t the type to accept personal responsibility for the lapses in the work of his team members.

Not exactly a “buck-stops-here” type,she mused.

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