Page 28 of Once Silenced

Ann Marie nodded.“Well, this certainly puts Levon back at the top of our suspect list.We need to talk to him.”

“Agreed,” Riley said, her tone more cautious, tempering the air of excitement that had begun to take hold.“But we should approach this carefully.We don’t want to tip him off that we’re coming to see him.”

“I’ll see if I can locate him,” Sheriff Hagen said.

He reached for his phone, and with a few brief murmurs into the receiver, he confirmed what they hoped to hear—Levon Warren was not scheduled to teach today and was likely at home.Hagen pushed back from his desk with a decisive motion, the chair’s wheels rolling smoothly across the well-worn floor.

“I’ll drive you there,” he offered, a practical edge to his voice as he stood.His height seemed to underscore the solemnity of the task ahead.“It’s not far, and I know the area well.We can interview him together.”

Riley and Ann Marie followed Hagen through the bustling precinct.They took their seats in his patrol car, Riley in the passenger seat and Ann Marie in back.

The morning sun was climbing higher now, its light filtering through the windshield as Sheriff Hagen’s vehicle coursed through the streets of Glencoe.As Riley watched the landscape roll by, she recognized a comfort in the rhythm of the town, a domestic warmth that belied the coldness of the crime they were investigating.

Hagen’s voice cut through Riley’s introspection as he pointed out various landmarks—the college campus with its stately buildings, the local diner where students and professors alike debated theories over cups of bitter coffee, and the bookstores and cafés that marked the territory of academia.

“Patricia and Levon were fixtures here,” Hagen said, his tone imbued with the familiarity of decades spent patrolling these streets.“Their brilliance was as much a part of Glencoe as these buildings.”

As they turned down a tree-lined street, Riley let the hum of the engine draw her into a state of heightened awareness.The closer they got to their destination, the more she sensed the presence of ghosts—both personal and professional—that refused to be laid to rest.

Her mind wandered to Mrs.Margaret Whitfield, the algebra teacher whose kindness had been such a help during her tumultuous high school years.The recent murders had snatched away that gentle soul, and now here Riley was, approaching a suspect who might know why—and for all she knew, might somehow be responsible.

“That’s the house,” Hagen said, indicating a two-story structure that spoke of academia and tenure, of chalkboards filled with equations and theories debated over dinner tables.

Riley tapped against her knee, each beat a silent question—was the man who lived within these walls capable of murder?

She took in a deep breath, readying herself.She knew the academic community was tight-knit; whispers of scandal and tragedy never truly faded.They became part of the collective memory, shaping perceptions and casting questions over reputations.That they sometimes came to a boiling point didn’t surprise her.

As the vehicle slowed to a stop in front of Levon Warren’s home, Riley Paige took a moment to collect her thoughts before stepping out.The house was disarmingly charming, with its white picket fence and rose bushes that seemed to wave a friendly welcome—so at odds with what she knew of the man who still lived there.Levon Warren had been shielded by his intellect and the passing of time.But the truth had a way of surfacing, often when least expected.Riley glanced back at Ann Marie, who returned the look with steely determination.

Looks can be deceiving,Riley reminded herself, touching her firearm in its holster as she got out of the car.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After Sheriff Hagen knocked on mathematician’s door, there was a brief pause, then the door swung open.Riley’s eyes swept over the man who stood there, framed against the dim light of the interior.She noted the way his clothes hung loosely on his frame, the hint of defiance in his posture, the guarded look in his eyes.

“Mr.Warren,” the police chief explained, “I’m Sheriff Hagen.These are FBI Agents Paige and Esmer.We need to speak with you about a matter of utmost importance.”

Warren’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he stepped back, gesturing for them to enter.“Of course, come in.”

As they moved through the door, Riley kept her eyes on their host.Levon Warren was in his late sixties, and she saw that he had probably once been robust and strong, but time had taken its toll.His shoulders curved inward, and his hands betrayed a slight tremor.She could imagine him having had the strength to take a life in the past, but certainly not in the present.

“Thank you, Mr.Warren,” Hagen continued, his tone indicating that the pleasantries were over and the serious business at hand was about to begin.Riley realized that although this sheriff might not have her ability to slip into the minds of killers, he had an instinct for the ebb and flow of human interaction—a talent that would make him a formidable presence in any investigation.

The interior of Levon Warren’s house was a jarring change from its charming exterior.Books and papers were strewn about, covering every available surface, and whiteboards plastered the walls.The air was thick with the musty smell of old paper and neglect.

“Quite the collection,” Ann Marie murmured, as she entered behind Riley.

The clutter was not just physical.Complex mathematical equations were scrawled on the whiteboards and every scattered sheet of paper was marked with scribbled with lines and numbers intertwining like the roots of an ancient tree.To Riley, it seemed like the work of a mind teetering on the edge between brilliance and madness.

Clearing his throat, Chief Hagen glanced at the two agents before turning to face their host.Hagen had taken a seat as if the disorder around him was the most natural state in the world.

There were no other unoccupied chairs, so the three newcomers remained standing.Riley thought there was something unsettlingly serene about this man.Her instincts told her to be wary.

“Mr.Warren,” Hagen began, “I’m afraid we have some difficult news.”He paused, the words catching slightly as though reluctant to disturb the quiet madness of the house.“We’ve discovered human remains in Blue Ridge Wilderness Park.We believe...the coroner has reported that they belong to your wife, Patricia.”

Hagen simply nodded blandly.

“I’m not surprised,” he replied, his voice disturbingly even.“I’ve known all along she was dead.It was only a matter of time before the truth came out.”