Page 22 of Silent Past

Across the room, Finn sat at a desk scattered with copied reports and grainy photographs. His sleeves were rolled up, and a forgotten cup of coffee sat cold at his elbow. They'd been at this for hours, piecing together what happened to Thomas Kane five years ago.

"Got the original case file," Sheila said, carrying the stack to the desk. Her voice seemed too loud in the hushed space. "Let's see what matches Jin's description of the kill method."

She spread the contents across the desk: photographs of Kane's campsite, his abandoned climbing gear, witness statements from other hikers. The facts were sparse—experienced climber, solo expedition, never emerged from the caves.

"Here's something," Finn said, holding up a photocopy. "Kane wasn't just any climber. He was an anthropologist, specializing in indigenous artifacts."

Sheila felt her pulse quicken. "Like Mitchell."

"Exactly like Mitchell. He was documenting sacred sites, trying to map their locations." Finn shuffled through more papers. "According to his research proposal, he believed the ice caves connected to older tunnel systems. Something about 'previously undocumented ceremonial chambers.'"

Sheila leaned over his shoulder to read. The proposal was detailed—references to oral histories, geological surveys, even thermal imaging that suggested larger caverns deeper in the mountain. Kane had been methodical, thorough.

Just like Mitchell.

"Did they ever find his research?" she asked. "His notes, his maps?"

"No mention of it here. But get this—his body wasn't the only thing missing. His camera, his notebook, his GPS unit—all gone." Finn looked up at her. "Someone didn't want his findings getting out."

Sheila was about to respond when footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Heavy, purposeful steps—too many sets to be just a clerk or another deputy. She straightened, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon.

The door opened, and three people entered. Two men and a woman, all wearing dark suits despite the warm afternoon. The woman led the way, her black hair pulled back severely from her face. She carried herself with the unmistakable authority of a senior agent.

"Sheriff Stone?" The woman's voice was clipped, professional. "I'm Special Agent Diana Walsh, FBI. These are Agents Reeves and Highland." She held up her credentials. "We're here about the Mitchell case."

Sheila nodded. "Yes, I was told to expect you."

Walsh gestured to the papers in front of Sheila. "It appears you're trying to connect Mitchell's death to a previous incident?"

"Just considering every possibility. Being as thorough as we can."

"Of course." Walsh's smile didn't reach her eyes. "But you can leave that to us now. Indigenous artifacts, potential grave sites—this is a federal case now. I'm sure you understand."

Finn stood slowly. "The murder occurred in county territory. That makes it our case."

"A murder involving ceremonial objects stolen from tribal lands," Walsh corrected. "Which makes it ours." She nodded to Agent Reeves, who moved toward the desk. "We'll need copies of everything you've found."

Sheila stepped between Reeves and the files. She didn't like being strong-armed, not when they ought to have been on the same side.

"Dr. Mitchell was killed in my jurisdiction. Her body was found by civilians who were then targeted. That makes this a local homicide investigation."

"Which we'll be happy to coordinate with you on," Walsh said smoothly. "But these files"—she gestured to the Kane documents—"suggest a pattern. One that falls under our purview."

"Because of the artifacts?" Sheila kept her voice level. "Or because you already know what Kane found in those caves?"

Something flickered in Walsh's expression—surprise, maybe, or concern. It was gone so quickly Sheila might have imagined it.

"Kane's disappearance was thoroughly investigated," Walsh said. "If you've found new evidence—"

"What we've found," Sheila cut in, "is a connection between two murders. Both victims were anthropologists studying sacred sites. Both were killed in the same way. Both had their research stolen." She met Walsh's gaze. "So either you take over both cases—including Kane's unsolved murder—or you let us do our job."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Finn tensed beside Sheila.

Walsh studied Sheila for a long moment. "You have good instincts, Sheriff. But you're out of your depth here. These cases... they're part of something larger. Something that requires federal resources and oversight."

"Then enlighten me," Sheila challenged. "What exactly are we dealing with?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss ongoing investigations." Walsh's tone hardened. "But I am authorized to take control of any evidence related to indigenous artifacts or sacred sites. Including these files."

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