Page 30 of Silent Trail

Sheila felt a pang of sympathy for her father. She suspected he was also thinking about the death of her mother, Henrietta, which had never been solved.

"Thanks for sharing that, Dad," she said softly.

"Absolutely. Now, why don't you tell me about the case you're dealing with now? Talking always helped me process things."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, considering where to start. She decided to keep it simple.

"Three female college students have been found dead in three different colleges," she said, trying to remain neutral as she recounted the facts of the case. "Each of them was stabbed to death and shut in their lockers. I think maybe they were bullying someone, and that person got revenge by killing them."

Gabe's thoughtful silence on the other end of the call seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Then finally he spoke, his voice low and measured. "That certainly sounds like a possibility. But you need to be careful not to jump to conclusions. Throughout my years in law enforcement, I've seen many cases where investigators made assumptions without even realizing it, and those assumptions led them down the wrong path."

Sheila frowned, considering her father's words. "But what else could connect these victims? There must be something we're missing."

"Sometimes the connections aren't obvious at first glance," Gabe said. "Look for patterns in their behavior, their social circles, any recent changes in their lives. And remember, sometimes the most crucial clue is hiding in plain sight."

Sheila nodded slowly, though her father couldn't see it. His advice resonated with her, reminding her that there was still much to learn in this new chapter of her life. As she mulled over her father's words, she couldn't help but think about how closely she'd followed in his footsteps— both in kickboxing and now in law enforcement. And yet, despite their shared interests and experiences, she still felt like the outsider in their family, the daughter who could never quite measure up to her father's expectations.

Or had that changed, now that Natalie was the injured one, the limited one? She took no joy in the thought.

"Thanks, Dad," she said softly, her voice tinged with gratitude. "I'll keep all that in mind while we continue investigating."

"Good, Sheila. Just remember: assumptions can be dangerous. Keep an open mind and stay focused on the facts. And don't hesitate to reach out if you need advice or a sounding board."

"Will do," Sheila said, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. She knew that it would take time, effort, and a keen eye for detail to crack this case, but with her father's guidance and support, she felt confident that she could rise to the challenge.

"Take care of Natalie too, okay? She needs your support now more than ever."

"Of course, I will," she promised before hanging up the phone.

As she started walking again, she replayed the conversation she'd just had with Her father. His words about assumptions echoed in her head, and she suddenly realized she'd made one from the very beginning.

With renewed energy, Sheila hurried back to the cafeteria. As she entered, she found Natalie and Finn huddled together, talking in low voices.

"Guys!" Sheila said, excitement edging her voice. Their heads snapped up, curiosity flaring in their eyes. "I think we've been making a huge assumption this entire time!"

Natalie frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"All this time," she said, "we've been assuming the killer is a college girl who got bullied by the victims."

"You don't think she got bullied?" Natalie asked.

Sheila shook her head impatiently. It's not that. I don't think our killer is a girl."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sheila shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood in the office of Clearwater University's president, Moses Okafor, watching as he pulled up a video on his computer. Her impatience bubbled beneath the surface, making it hard for her to focus on anything other than the information they were about to uncover.

What's this about, anyway? she wondered. We just asked him for any information he had on male students here at Clearwater who had filed complaints about bullying. So what's he doing on social media?

As she waited, she glanced around the room, taking in the rich mahogany bookshelves that lined the walls and the diplomas and accolades displayed prominently. The office exuded a sense of sophistication and authority that matched the man seated behind the desk.

Moses was a large African-American man with a pointed beard that framed his strong jawline. His dark eyes were focused intently on the computer screen in front of him, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he typed, the muscles in his broad shoulders flexed under the tailored suit he wore, giving away the athletic build hidden underneath.

Sheila's sister, Natalie, sat in her wheelchair beside her, her face expressionless as she patiently waited for Moses to find what he was looking for. Finn leaned against a nearby bookshelf, his arms crossed over his chest. He hid his keen interest behind a casual demeanor, but Sheila knew better. All three of them were eager to discover any new leads in the murder case they were working on.

"Almost got it," Moses said, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. Sheila caught herself holding her breath and let out a quiet exhale, her fingers tapping rhythmically against her thigh.

"Take your time," Natalie said. "To be honest, I was surprised to find you were still here. It's quite late."

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