Silent Neighbor (Sheila Stone #9)

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

The sun-baked highway stretched out before them, a ribbon of shimmering asphalt cutting through the rugged Utah landscape. Sheila's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon. Beside her, Finn pored over a map spread across his lap, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The terrain around them was a breathtaking tapestry of red rock formations and sparse desert vegetation. Towering mesas and buttes rose from the earth like ancient sentinels, their layered striations telling a complicated geological story. Scraggly juniper trees and tenacious sagebrush dotted the landscape, adding splashes of muted green to the predominant reds and oranges of the rock.

As they drove, the cliffs of the area came into view, a formidable wall of stone stretching as far as the eye could see. Each face seemed to blend into the next, a continuous expanse of vertical challenge that made Sheila's heart race with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

"Any luck pinpointing which one is Razor's Edge?" Sheila asked, her voice tight with urgency.

Finn shook his head, pressing his lips together in frustration. "These cliffs aren't marked on the map, and without cell service, I can't access any online climbing guides. We're flying blind here."

Sheila cursed under her breath, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel. "Check the GPS again. Maybe we've come into range of a satellite."

Finn pulled out his phone, tapping at the screen with increasing agitation. After a moment, he shook his head. "Nothing. We're too far out. The GPS isn't picking up a signal."

"Damn it," Sheila muttered, her eyes never leaving the road. The cliffs seemed to mock them with their uniformity, each face looking as challenging and dangerous as the next. How were they supposed to find one specific climber in this vast expanse of rock?

Somewhere out here, Jessica Tatum was putting herself in danger, unknowingly making herself a target for a killer who had already claimed three lives. And even though she had said exactly where she was going to be, they couldn't seem to find her.

"Maybe we should have brought a local guide," Finn said, breaking the silence. "Someone who knows these cliffs like the back of their hand."

"It's too late now," Sheila murmured. "We're the only hope she has at this point."

As they rounded a bend in the road, something caught Sheila's eye. A vehicle was parked at the base of one of the cliffs, partially hidden by a large boulder. Her heart leapt. Could it be Jessica's?

"Finn, look," she said, already steering toward the parked vehicle. As they drew closer, Sheila could make out more details. It was a Jeep, weathered and well-used, exactly the kind of vehicle an avid climber might drive.

Sheila pulled up alongside the Jeep, killing the engine. The sudden silence was almost deafening, broken only by the soft ping of their cooling engine and the distant cry of a hawk.

They approached the Jeep cautiously, Sheila's hand instinctively resting on her holstered weapon. The vehicle was empty, but signs of recent use were evident. A thin layer of dust coated the exterior, broken by fresh handprints on the driver's side door.

Sheila peered through the window into the Jeep's interior. The sight that greeted her seemed to confirm their suspicions. A women's jacket was draped over the passenger seat, and a pair of well-worn hiking boots sat on the floor. A collection of colorful carabiners hung from the rearview mirror, clinking softly in the breeze.

The back of the Jeep was filled with climbing gear: ropes coiled with meticulous care, a rack of cams and nuts, a crash pad folded neatly against the rear door. A half-empty water bottle sat in the cup holder, condensation still beading on its surface.

"This has to be Jessica's vehicle," Sheila said, turning to Finn. "But where is she?"

They scanned the base of the cliff, looking for any sign of recent activity. Scuff marks in the dust suggested someone had geared up here not long ago.

"She can't have gotten far," Finn said, shielding his eyes as he looked up the towering cliff face. "Not if she only posted that message a few hours ago. I'm not much of a climber myself, but it's got to take time to scale these cliffs."

Sheila nodded, her own gaze tracing the possible routes up the cliff. The rock was a complex maze of cracks, ledges, and overhangs. To her untrained eye, it all looked impossibly dangerous.

Finn suddenly grabbed her arm, pointing upward. "Sheila, look!"

Sheila followed his gaze, her eyes scanning the cliff face above them. At first, she saw nothing but the unbroken expanse of red rock. Then she spotted what had caught Finn's attention. High above them, on a narrow ledge, a figure was peering down at them.

Sheila's heart raced. Could it be Jessica? Or worse, could it be the killer, watching them from above?

"Hello!" Sheila called out, her voice echoing off the rock face. "Are you Jessica Tatum?"

There was a moment of tense silence, then a voice floated down from above. "Who wants to know?"

Sheila felt a surge of relief. It was a woman's voice, young and defiant. It had to be Jessica. "I'm Deputy Sheila Stone from the Coldwater County Sheriff's Department. We're here to help you. You're in danger!"

There was another pause, then Jessica's voice came again, tinged with frustration. "I don't need your help. I know what I'm doing. Leave me alone!"

Sheila exchanged a worried glance with Finn. Jessica clearly had no idea of the real danger she was in. She thought she was being brave, honoring her friends, but she was walking right into the killer's trap.

"Jessica, please," Sheila called, trying to keep her voice calm and reasonable. "We have reason to believe the person responsible for your friends' deaths is targeting you. You need to come down now. We can protect you."

"Protect me?" Jessica's laugh was bitter, carrying clearly in the still desert air. "Where were you when Jake and Brad died? Where were you when Ellen was killed? No, I don't need your protection. I'm going to finish what I started."

Finish what she started? How could she care so much about rock-climbing when lives were at stake?

"Jessica, I know you're hurting. I know you want to do something for your friends. But this isn't the time. Please, just come down and talk to us."

Finn touched Sheila's arm, his voice low. "I'll jog around the cliff, see if there's an easier way up."

Then, just as Finn was about to leave, Sheila caught movement from above. "Wait," she said to Finn. He looked up.

A figure had appeared beside Jessica. And Jessica didn't have the slightest clue.

Time seemed to slow down as Sheila's mind processed what she was seeing. The killer wasn't coming for Jessica. They were already here.

Drawing in a deep breath, Sheila screamed with all the force she could muster, her voice raw with desperation and urgency.

"Jessica!" she screamed. "Behind you! Look out!"