Chapter 24
Darkness had settled over the Adirondack wilderness with the completeness that only came to places far from civilization, where electric lights couldn't compete with the ancient rhythm of sun and stars.
Hemlock Hollow Farm sat eight miles northwest of High Peaks, near the base of Debar Mountain, accessed by a dirt road that had once served logging operations.
The abandoned farm represented the kind of optimistic failure that dotted the Adirondack landscape.
It was someone's dream of wresting a living from unforgiving soil, only to be abandoned when reality proved more stubborn than hope.
What remained were foundations overgrown with brambles, a collapsed barn that served as shelter for deer and small animals, and an infrastructure slowly being reclaimed by a forest that never forgot its boundaries.
Mia's headlights cut through the darkness as she navigated the rutted access road, her car's suspension protesting with each pothole and fallen branch.
The isolation felt absolute, no house lights, no traffic sounds, no indication that human beings had any business being in this place after sunset.
Her phone showed no signal bars, a reminder that she was beyond the reach of help should something go wrong.
The coordinates Gideon had provided led to a clearing where the farmhouse had once stood.
All that remained was a stone foundation partially visible through decades of accumulated leaves and undergrowth.
Ancient apple trees, now wild and gnarled, created twisted silhouettes against the star-filled sky.
Gideon's vehicle was already parked beside the ruins, its dark bulk barely visible in the shadows cast by towering hemlocks that gave the place its name.
As Mia approached, she could see him waiting beside what appeared to be a well, his flashlight beam dancing across stone walls that had been constructed with the kind of careful craftsmanship that spoke to a time when people built things to last generations.
"You made it," Gideon said. His voice held a nervous energy that matched Mia's own anxiety about meeting in such an isolated location.
The mysterious Facebook messages might have made her question whether she could trust anyone completely, even someone Evelyn Cross had vouched for.
Yet the two she had received that afternoon were audio messages. The voice was female.
"This better be worth the drive," Mia said, approaching the well with her own flashlight in hand.
The structure was ancient, probably built by the original homesteaders who'd cleared this land from wilderness.
A wooden cover lay across the opening, held in place by bricks that had been carefully positioned to prevent accidental displacement.
Gideon began removing the bricks, each one placed carefully beside the well to avoid losing them. "I need you to see this before we decide what to do next."
When the last brick was removed, Gideon lifted the wooden cover and set it aside.
The opening revealed a circular shaft that disappeared into blackness, its stone walls vanishing beyond the reach of their flashlight beams. Mia leaned forward and shone her light down into the depths, expecting to see water but finding only empty darkness.
"What am I supposed to see here?" she asked, moving the beam back and forth in search of whatever had brought Gideon to this remote location.
“It’s not what. It’s who. He's down there, Mia.”
"Who?"
"Travis Rudd."
Mia straightened and stared at Gideon in disbelief. "You're joking."
"No."
“How do you know? Have you been down there?" The thought of descending into that black hole made her stomach clench with anxiety.
Gideon nodded. “Yeah, it scared the shit out of me, but I had to see for myself. The bones are down there. His wallet too, with identification that confirms it's him."
“How did you…? Who told you about this?"
"An anonymous tip."
"Male or female?"
"A message left at my workplace. Just coordinates and a note saying Travis Rudd's body was here. I thought it was a joke. Clearly it wasn’t."
Mia shook her head, unable to believe Gideon's willingness to follow such a dubious lead. "That's not sketchy at all. And you followed it out here alone? You could have ended up like Pierce."
"I had to see. This case has been cold for ten years, Mia. If there's even a chance this leads to answers..."
"Okay, then we should call the cops," Mia said, already reaching for her phone despite its lack of signal. "Let them handle the recovery."
"No," Gideon said with unexpected vehemence. "We don't know who to trust in law enforcement. I say we take the bones ourselves."
"Why didn't you do it already if you've been down there?"
"Because it's not that easy. I didn't know there would be actual human remains when I first climbed down. I didn't bring proper equipment." He held up a canvas sack and climbing rope. "Someone needs to stay up here to manage the rope while the other person goes down and collects evidence."
Mia felt her blood chill as she realized what he was suggesting. "Hold on a second. You want me to go down there?"
Gideon nodded.
"Oh hell no."
"Mia, you wanted answers. I wanted answers. Rebecca's family deserves answers. Down there are the answers we've been looking for."
"I'm not going down there," Mia said firmly. "We don't need to bring the bones up. The police can handle recovery when we report the location."
"No, we need to take them ourselves. Things have a way of going missing when law enforcement gets involved. Ten years, Mia. People have been searching for answers for ten years, and evidence keeps disappearing or being ignored."
Mia studied Gideon's face in the flashlight beam, trying to determine whether his urgency came from legitimate concern or something more dangerous. "What if those bones aren't Travis Rudd? They could belong to anyone. This could be a trap."
"Look around you," Gideon said, gesturing toward the empty wilderness that surrounded them. "We're in the middle of nowhere. Do you see anyone? Any other vehicles? Let's get the evidence and get out of here."
"If it is Travis, we shouldn't disturb the remains. They could contain the killer's DNA."
Gideon produced latex gloves from his jacket pocket.
"That's why I brought these. We need to secure this evidence ourselves. We can turn over most of it to authorities but keep some for independent testing. If we just call the police, they’ll take everything away and that's it—evidence gone.
We've seen how this case has been handled for a decade. "
Despite her reservations, Mia found herself nodding at the logic. The systematic suppression of evidence in the Hale case suggested that normal channels couldn't be trusted. "What about if I stay up here and you go down?"
"Are you strong enough to pull me up if something goes wrong? Be logical about the physics involved."
Mia closed her eyes and groaned, recognizing the truth in his assessment. "Okay, but you better be strong and you better not let me fall."
She pulled out her phone to send a message to her grandfather, letting someone know her location in case things went wrong. But Gideon placed his hand over the device before she could type.
"I told you—no one can know about this. We don't know who to trust."
"And I'm supposed to trust you?"
"Evelyn Cross has for the past ten years. Do you think she didn't run some kind of background check before meeting me?"
The point was valid, and Mia found herself reluctantly accepting Gideon's reasoning.
"If it wasn't for lack of trust in the system, calling the cops would be the obvious choice. But this might be our only shot at preventing this case from remaining cold forever," he said.
"And you trust whoever gave you this tip?"
"People eventually speak up, Mia. It happens all the time in cold cases—deathbed confessions, spouses carrying guilt, accomplices who can't live with secrets anymore. The podcasters obviously stirred things up. I don't know who left me that tip, and most don't pan out, but this one did."
"Okay, well, down into the darkness," Mia muttered, as she accepted the climbing harness Gideon offered.
He secured the rope around her waist, checking each knot twice before tying off the safety end around a sturdy tree. The harness felt secure but did nothing to calm her racing heart as she approached the well's edge.
"Don't you dare let go," she said, testing the rope's tension.
"Have a little faith."
The descent began slowly, Gideon easing her down while she used her feet against the stone walls to control her movement.
The walls were damp and roughly hewn, probably hand-carved by nineteenth century farmers who'd needed water for their livestock.
As she descended, the temperature dropped noticeably, and the air grew thick with the smell of decay and stagnant moisture.
Twenty-five feet down, her feet touched solid ground.
The bottom of the well was dry, filled with decades of accumulated debris—leaves, small animal bones, and objects that had fallen or been thrown down over the years.
She climbed out of the harness and began examining the area with her flashlight.
"You see them?" Gideon called from above, his voice echoing strangely in the stone cylinder.
"Found them," Mia shouted back, her own voice strange in the confined space.
The remains were unmistakably human, bones still partially clothed in jeans, work boots, and a leather jacket that had protected some of the skeletal structure from complete decay.
Inside the jacket pocket, she found a wallet containing a driver's license with Travis Rudd's photograph and name.
More significantly, the wallet also contained proof of insurance for a dark blue Honda Civic, the same vehicle Connor Walsh had described seeing at Rebecca's house the night of the murders.
Working quickly, Mia began collecting bones into the canvas sack Gideon had provided. But remembering his earlier advice about keeping some evidence independently, she placed several smaller bones in her jacket pocket before filling the main bag.
"Okay, pull up the rope," she called.
She watched the bag ascend, disappearing into the circle of starlight that marked the well's opening. There was a pause that seemed longer than necessary.
"Gideon? Hey, Gideon?"
Silence.
Her stomach dropped as scenarios ran through her mind, Gideon fleeing and leaving her trapped, or worse, someone else arriving and eliminating the only person who knew her location.
Then the rope came down again.
"Okay, you're next," Gideon shouted.
"For a moment I thought you were going to leave me down here," she called back.
His laughter echoed down the well shaft. "I told you, you can trust me."
Mia secured herself in the harness and took hold of the rope, beginning her ascent while Gideon pulled from above. She used her feet against the stone walls to help, making steady progress toward the circle of starlight that represented safety and freedom.
She had climbed about fifteen feet when the rope suddenly went slack.
The fall happened so quickly she barely had time to register what was occurring.
Her back hit the ground hard, driving the air from her lungs in a painful rush.
Her left arm struck a protruding stone, and the resulting pain convinced her the bone was broken.
Stars exploded across her vision as her head bounced off the ground.
"Gideon?" she gasped when she could breathe again. "Gideon!"
The sound of a struggle filtered down from above, shouts, impact, something heavy hitting the ground. Then sudden silence that felt more ominous than the violence that had preceded it.
A moment later, Gideon came over the edge of the well, striking the walls multiple times as he fell at terrifying speed. Mia rolled against the stone wall just seconds before his body crashed into the spot where she'd been lying.
"What the fuck?" Her heart hammered against her ribs as she processed what had just happened.
Above, the wooden cover was pushed back into place over the well opening, cutting off the starlight and plunging her into absolute darkness. The bricks scraped against wood as they were repositioned to hold the cover in place.
"Hey! Hey!" Mia shouted, her voice cracking with terror. "What are you doing? Don't do this. Please!"
Her world went completely black as the stars disappeared. She banged her flashlight against her thigh repeatedly until it flickered back to life, casting weak illumination across her underground prison.
Crouching beside Gideon, she could see his legs were twisted at unnatural angles, his breathing shallow and irregular.
She'd been convinced he was dead, but when she pressed her fingers to his neck, she found a weak pulse.
How he had survived the fall was beyond comprehension, and how long he would continue breathing remained an open question.
She looked up and shone her light toward the well opening, now completely covered and unreachable.
"Help! Hey! Help!" she screamed until her voice was hoarse.
The pain in her arm intensified. Waves of agony combined with shock made her lightheaded. At some point, consciousness faded entirely as her body surrendered to trauma and exhaustion.