Page 1 of Silent Bones
PROLOGUE
Death whispered in the Adirondacks. The morning mist rolled across Middle Saranac Lake like nature's shroud, concealing secrets beneath its veil. In the pre-dawn stillness, something darker lingered among the pines.
Eleanor Mitchell adjusted her grip on the wooden walking stick, its surface worn smooth from years of early morning hikes. After thirty-five years teaching biology at Saranac Lake High School, she'd developed an appreciation for these quiet moments before the world stirred to life. Her husband, Robert, walked beside her, holding their chocolate Lab's leash as they made their way along a narrow dirt path that hugged the shoreline.
"Did you hear back from Sarah about the ultrasound?" Robert asked. Their daughter's second pregnancy had been more difficult than the first.
"She texted last night," Eleanor said, pausing to watch a loon glide through the mist. "Everything looks good. They're keeping the gender a surprise this time."
Their Lab, Darwin, trotted ahead, his nose working overtime as he investigated every interesting scent along the trail. The airwas crisp despite the season, and dew clung to the undergrowth, dampening their hiking boots.
"That'll drive your mother crazy." Robert chuckled. "She's already bought enough pink things to fill a boutique."
"Mom's convinced it's another girl," Eleanor said, using her walking stick to navigate a particularly rocky section of trail. "Though I think she just wants an excuse to keep knitting those tiny pink sweaters."
The conversation drifted to Eleanor's upcoming watercolor class at the community center. She'd taken up painting after retirement, finding unexpected joy in capturing the High Peaks that had been the backdrop of her life.
"I'm thinking of painting the lake for the nursery," she said, gesturing toward the water where the mist was beginning to thin. "Something peaceful, with lots of blues and greens."
"Better than those cartoon animals Sarah's been looking at," Robert agreed. "Though knowing our daughter, she'll probably want both."
Darwin's bark cut through their conversation. The Lab's body went rigid, ears pricked forward as he stared intently into the dense forest.
"Heel," Robert commanded, but the dog barked again, more urgently this time. Before either of them could react, he lunged forward with unexpected strength. The leash slipped through Robert's fingers like a living thing.
"Darwin!" Eleanor called out, but the Lab had already disappeared into the undergrowth, crashing through ferns and mountain laurel.
"Damn it," Robert muttered, already moving after the dog. "What the hell has he seen now?"
They pushed through the thick vegetation, branches snagging their clothes. The well-maintained trail disappeared behind them as they followed the sound of Darwin's increasinglyfrantic barking. The forest floor was treacherous here, slick with decomposing leaves and hidden roots.
The trees thinned, opening onto one of the numbered campsites that dotted the shoreline. Eleanor's first thought was that bears had torn through the camp. Two tents lay in shreds, their contents scattered across the clearing like discarded toys. A camping stove lay overturned, food supplies strewn across blood-stained earth.
Then she saw a hand.
It protruded from beneath one of the collapsed tents, fingers curled as if grasping at something just out of reach. Dark liquid had soaked into the earth around it, turning the soil black in the early morning light.
Darwin stood at the edge of the water; his hackles raised as he growled at something in the lake. Eleanor followed his gaze and felt her world tilt sideways.
"Robert," she whispered, clutching his arm. "There's another one. In the water."
A body floated face-down near the shore, caught in the tangle of underwater vegetation. Beyond it, partially hidden by the morning mist, she could make out more shapes in the campsite. More stillness where there should be movement.
"We need to go," Robert said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands as he grabbed Darwin's collar. "Now."
1
Alate August heat shimmered off the parking lot of the CVS Pharmacy on Main Street in High Peaks, transforming the asphalt into a wavering mirage that made Noah Sutherland's eyes water. He twisted in the drivers seat of the unmarked van, watching as Detective Angus McKenzie organized the evidence boxes that would finally close the book on what had become known as the "CVS Receipt Scam."
"Bloody hell, Sutherland," McKenzie muttered in his thick Scottish accent, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand as he climbed into the front passenger seat. "Six months of surveillance, and it all comes down to watching these lassies wave fake receipts like they're boarding passes to paradise."
Noah couldn't help but smile.
After working side by side with the Adirondack Country Sheriff’s Office for the better part of two years, he'd grown accustomed to their detective's colorful commentary. "Sometimes the simple cons are the most effective," he said. "Fake a receipt, walk out with confidence. Who's going to question a little old lady with a piece of paper?"
Through the van's tinted windows, they could see the three women who had just completed their final performance, though they didn't know it yet. The suspects moved, loading stolen merchandise into oversized tote bags while maintaining the casual demeanor of ordinary shoppers. Their target today: high-end vitamins, electric toothbrushes, and premium skincare products.
"Aye, but the arrogance of it," McKenzie continued, reaching for his radio. "Same routine, similar stores, same bloody cards. You'd think they'd mix it up a bit or CVS would have clued in faster."
