Silent Smile (Sheila Stone #10)

CHAPTER THREE

The sun was still climbing the cloudless Utah sky as Sheila Stone's SUV wound its way along the desert road leading to Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park. Beside her, Finn fidgeted with the air conditioning, trying to combat the oppressive heat.

"Remind me again why anyone would vacation in a desert?" Finn grumbled, loosening his tie.

Sheila shot him a sideways glance. "You know, you didn't have to wear the suit. We're not in the office."

Finn shrugged. "First big case with you as sheriff. Wanted to look professional."

The comment hung in the air between them. Sheila felt a twinge of discomfort. She didn't like being reminded that she was Finn's boss now—she wanted things between them to be the same as they'd always been, but she found herself wondering if that was naive.

How was she supposed to separate her work from her personal life when she'd just moved in with her second-in-command?

"I appreciate the effort," she said after a moment, trying to bridge the awkward silence. "But next time, maybe go for something more practical. We're likely to be trudging through sand all day."

Finn nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Noted, Sheriff."

As they crested a hill, the park sprawled out before them. Coral Pink Sand Dunes lived up to its name—a vast expanse of undulating dunes stretched as far as the eye could see, their color a striking salmon hue in the bright sunlight. The sand's unique coloration came from the erosion of Navajo sandstone cliffs surrounding the park, a fact Sheila had gleaned from her hasty research that morning.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, momentarily forgetting the grim reason for their visit.

Finn nodded. "Hard to believe something so terrible could happen in a place like this."

Sheila's mind drifted back to the file she'd reviewed on the drive. Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, established in 1963, encompassed over 3,730 acres of uniquely colored sand dunes. It was a haven for off-highway vehicle enthusiasts, hikers, and nature photographers. The park saw over 100,000 visitors annually, drawn by its otherworldly landscape and the promise of adventure.

Today, however, that landscape has become a crime scene.

They pulled into the park's main lot, which was already crowded with official vehicles. As Sheila stepped out, the heat hit her like a physical force. She squinted against the glare, spotting a figure striding toward them.

"Sheriff Stone?" The man extended his hand. "Ranger Mike Hollister. Thanks for coming out so quickly."

Sheila shook his hand, noting his firm grip and the worry lines etched around his eyes. Hollister was tall and lean, with skin weathered by years in the sun. His ranger uniform was crisp despite the heat.

"This is Deputy Mercer," Sheila said, gesturing to Finn. "What can you tell us about the victim, Ranger Hollister?"

"Amanda Weller, 32 years old," Hollister said as they walked. "Her boyfriend reported her missing last night when she didn't return to their hotel. She'd gone off to take photos, said she'd be back by nightfall. When she didn't show up, he called us. We organized a search party first thing this morning."

"And that's when you found her?" Finn asked.

"Yes. Ranger Sarah Chen discovered the body during an early morning sweep. We brought the boyfriend out to make the ID." Hollister shook his head. "Poor guy's devastated."

"I can only imagine," Sheila said. "Can you give us an overview of the area where the body was found?"

Hollister's expression grew grave. He gestured toward a section of dunes that seemed to shimmer in the distance. "It's about a mile in, in an area we call the 'South Coral Dunes.' But here's the thing, Sheriff—that entire section is strictly off-limits to visitors."

"Off-limits?" Finn echoed, his brow furrowing. "Why's that?"

Hollister sighed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "It's a protected area. The ecosystem there is incredibly fragile. We've been trying to preserve it for years."

As they walked, Hollister pointed out various features of the landscape. "See those small, scrubby plants? Those are Welsh's milkweed. They're endangered, only found in this specific dune system. And those tracks?" He indicated some tiny impressions in the sand. "Those are from the Great Basin Spadefoot toad. They're specially adapted to this environment, but their numbers have been declining."

Sheila nodded, taking it all in.

"There's also the Coral Pink Sand Dunes tiger beetle," Hollister continued, clearly warming to the subject. "It's unique to this park—doesn't exist anywhere else in the world. Even a few careless footsteps could destroy their habitat. And that's not to mention the various species of lizards, kangaroo rats, and birds that call this place home."

"So how did Amanda Weller end up out there?" Finn asked.

Hollister shrugged. "That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? We have signs posted, regular patrols. It's not easy to accidentally wander into that area."

"But people still try?" Sheila pressed.

Hollister nodded grimly. "More often than we'd like. Especially the social media crowd, always looking for that perfect, untouched shot. We've had to issue fines, even make arrests. But this..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Nobody wanted this."

They approached a cordoned-off area where several people in CSI gear were just getting set up. Hollister held up the crime scene tape so they could duck beneath it. As Sheila did so, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trespassing.

"Brace yourselves," Hollister warned. "It's... unsettling."

Sheila understood the warning as soon as she glimpsed Amanda Weller's head protruding from the sand, her eyes wide and unseeing, the side of her skull sticky with blood. The rest of her body was completely buried, the sand packed tightly around her neck.

The sight of a murdered woman hit too close to home, reminding her of another crime scene she knew only from photographs—her own living room ten years ago, where her mother Henrietta had bled out on the carpet. At least Amanda's family would have answers sooner than a decade.

"What is that?" Finn asked, gesturing at the symbol on Amanda's—a crude design painted in dark red.

Hollister shook his head. "No idea. We were hoping you might have some insight."

Setting aside thoughts of the past, Sheila leaned in for a closer look, careful not to disturb anything. The symbol appeared to be a simplified sun with wavy lines emanating from it. "It looks... tribal, maybe? Native American?"

"That was our thought too," Hollister agreed. "But it's not like any local tribal symbol I've ever seen."

"What about the paint?" Sheila asked, turning to one of the nearby CSI technicians.

The tech shrugged. "Hard to say without testing, but it doesn't look like commercial paint. The consistency is off. Could be natural pigments, maybe even blood."

Sheila felt her stomach turn at the thought. She snapped a picture of the victim and then straightened up, trying to project an air of authority she didn't entirely feel. "Alright, I want samples taken and sent to the lab ASAP. Priority analysis."

"Already on it, Sheriff," the tech assured her.

Finn, who had been surveying the surrounding area, rejoined them. "No obvious signs of a struggle," he said. "If she was killed elsewhere and brought here, they didn't leave any tracks."

Sheila nodded, processing the information. She scanned the crime scene, noting the efficiency with which the CSI team was working.

"Has the coroner arrived yet?" she asked Hollister.

"Right here," a familiar voice called out. Dr. Jin Zihao strode toward them, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the morning sun. His neatly combed black hair was streaked with more silver than Sheila remembered, but his sharp, intelligent eyes were as keen as ever.

"Dr. Zihao," Sheila greeted him with a nod. "I didn't expect to see you out here in the field."

The coroner's lips quirked in a small smile. "First, let me say congratulations on the promotion. As for my presence, well, when I heard about the unusual nature of this case, I decided to see for myself. It's not often we get a body burial in sand dunes."

Finn stepped forward, extending his hand to Dr. Zihao. "Good to see you, Doc. Have you had a chance to look the body over yet?"

Dr. Zihao shook Finn's hand and nodded. "A few moments. I just went back to my truck to grab a forensic kit." He gestured to the kit tucked under his arm.

"Think that head wound was the cause of death?" Sheila asked.

Dr. Zihao turned back to face the body. He made a dubious face. "There's superficial bruising, a shallow cut, but I doubt very much the blow itself was fatal. It's more likely the blow was intended to incapacitate the victim."

"What can you tell us about time of death?" Finn asked.

"I can't say much for sure, not with most of the body still buried, but I will say it doesn't appear that she's been out here very long. Less than a day, I would guess. I'll know more once we get her back to the lab."

Sheila nodded. "Thank you for coming out here personally. I know we'll be in good hands with you on this case."

Sheila turned back to Ranger Hollister. "You mentioned a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, Jake Pearson. He's over by the visitor center. They were camping together, but he says they split up yesterday afternoon. He went back to the hotel, but she wanted to do some solo hiking for her blog."

"Her blog?" Sheila asked.

"Travel blog," Hollister explained. "Apparently, she's got quite a following. 'Amanda's Ambitious Adventures' or something like that."

Sheila and Finn exchanged a glance. A popular blogger murdered in a spectacular location—this case had the potential to blow up fast.

"Let's talk to the boyfriend," Sheila said. "Finn, can you stay here and oversee the evidence collection? I want to make sure we don't miss anything."

Finn nodded, though Sheila caught a flicker of something—disappointment? frustration?—in his eyes. She made a mental note to address it later. Right now, she has a job to do.

As she made her way to the visitor center with Ranger Hollister, Sheila felt the weight of her new role settling on her shoulders. This was her first major case as sheriff, and all eyes would be on her. She couldn't afford to make mistakes.

"In case you're wondering about Mr. Pearson's potential involvement," Hollister said, "you should know he had nothing to do with the murder."

"How can you be so sure?" Sheila asked.

"Because I've already requested the security footage from park entrance gates and checked with local hotels. Jake's alibi for last night is solid—he was on a video call with his office in Chicago from 7 PM to nearly midnight. The hotel's Wi-Fi logs confirm it, and his coworkers verify he was actively participating."

"Good work," Sheila said. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jake Pearson was a lanky man in his early thirties, with tousled brown hair and red-rimmed eyes. He jumped to his feet as Sheila approached. Hollister drifted off to make a call.

"Sheriff," Jake said, his voice hoarse. "Please tell me you've found something. Anything."

Sheila gestured for him to sit back down. "Mr. Pearson, I'm Sheriff Stone. I'd like to ask you a few questions about Amanda, if that's alright."

Jake nodded, slumping back into his chair. "Of course. Anything to help."

"How long have you and Amanda been together?" Sheila began.

"Three years," Jake replied. "We met through her blog, actually. I was a fan before I was her boyfriend."

"And you were camping together this trip?"

Jake nodded. "It was supposed to be a week-long adventure. Amanda loves—loved—finding off-the-beaten-path locations for her followers."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Sheila asked.

Jake ran a hand through his hair. "Yesterday evening, around 6 PM. She wanted to do some solo exploring, get some sunset shots of the dunes. I stayed back at the hotel to work. When she didn't come back by nightfall, I started to worry. I called the ranger station, and they..." His voice broke. "They found her this morning."

Sheila felt a pang of sympathy for the man. "Was this a common thing? Her going out hiking by herself?"

"Yeah. She did it all the time before we started dating, and I think she still liked the solitude now and then."

"Did she ever mention bumping into anyone during these solo hikes? Any encounters with strangers?"

Jake shook his head. "Not that I recall. She tended to stick to areas that weren't very… touristy, for lack of a better term. So she didn't often see other people."

Sheila paused, considering her next words carefully. "Mr. Pearson, I need to ask you something, and I want you to understand that I'm not making any accusations. I'm just trying to get all the facts." She waited for Jake's nod before continuing. "Amanda was found in an area of the park that's strictly off-limits to visitors due to its fragile ecosystem. Was it common for her to hike in restricted areas?"

Jake's posture immediately stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What exactly are you implying, Sheriff?"

"I'm not implying anything," Sheila said, keeping her tone neutral. "I'm simply asking if Amanda had a history of going into areas that were marked as off-limits."

"Amanda was a professional," Jake said, his voice tight with barely contained anger. "She respected nature and took her responsibility as an influencer seriously. She wouldn't just trample through protected areas for a photo op. Why are you trying to blame her?"

Sheila took a deep breath. "I apologize—I didn't mean to blame her. What I'm trying to say is that Amanda was found in a very remote section of the park. I'm wondering if that's something she had done before, or if maybe someone lured her out there to get her alone."

Jake's anger seemed to dim a little. "Usually she researched her own locations. She was professional about it, always careful. Even when she went off-trail, she'd let me know the general area she was heading to." His voice broke. "Except this time."

It occurred to Sheila that perhaps Amanda hadn't intended to be in that area at all. She might've fled there.

Jake sat heavily, running a hand through his hair. "It's just... this is all so surreal. Yesterday, we were planning the rest of our trip. And now..."

Jake took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. "Look, I won't lie. Amanda was always looking for the perfect shot, the unique angle. Sometimes that meant going off the beaten path. But she was always careful. She always did her research, always tried to minimize her impact. If she went into a restricted area, it would have been with the utmost caution and respect."

Sheila nodded, jotting down notes. "Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Pearson. Did Amanda ever mention any negative interactions with park staff or other hikers? Anyone who might have been upset about her photography locations?"

Jake shook his head. "No, nothing like that. At least, not that she told me about."

"Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Amanda? Any angry followers, jealous competitors?"

Jake looked shocked at the suggestion. "What? No, nothing like that. Amanda was... she was loved. By her followers, by other bloggers. She collaborated more than she competed."

"And you were working most of the evening?" Sheila asked, watching his reaction carefully.

"Yes," Jake said. "Big project deadline coming up. I had to lead a virtual meeting with our team in Chicago. That's why I couldn't go hiking with her." His voice cracked. "Maybe if I had..."

"It's not your fault," Sheila said, softening her tone. She knew from Hollister's earlier confirmation that Jake's alibi was solid, but she needed to hear it from him directly. "What time did the call end?"

"Just before midnight. I tried calling and texting Amanda dozens of times during breaks. When she didn't answer, I reported her missing to the rangers. They said they'd start searching at first light." He pulled out his phone, showing Sheila the log of unanswered calls.

Sheila nodded, satisfied with this explanation. Pulling out her own phone, she zoomed in on the symbol drawn on Amanda's forehead and showed the picture to Jake. "Does this symbol mean anything to you?"

Jake swallowed hard. He stared at the picture for only a second or two before turning away. "Never seen it before," he said.

"You sure?"

He nodded. "When they brought me over to identify her body… that was the first time I'd ever seen it. And I know you're just doing your job, but I'd appreciate it if I never see that symbol again. As far as I'm concerned, it means only one thing."

"What's that, Mr. Pearson?"

He stared at Sheila with haunted eyes. "That the woman I love is gone—forever."