Chapter 26
The late afternoon sun slanted through the hospital room windows, casting long shadows across linoleum floors that had been mopped countless times but still carried the institutional smell of disinfectant and human suffering.
Mia lay propped up in her adjustable bed, her broken arm immobilized in a cast that felt heavier with each passing hour.
The morphine had worn off enough for her thoughts to clear, but not enough to eliminate the constant ache that reminded her how close she'd come to dying in an abandoned well.
The room felt too quiet. Noah and Hugh had left to handle the bone evidence, taking with them their protective energy. Now she was alone with her thoughts, processing the implications of what had happened at Hemlock Hollow Farm and trying to understand it all.
A knock at the door interrupted her brooding. She glanced over to see Sergeant Anita Emerson. "Ah, there she is," Anita said, approaching the bed with genuine concern. "How are you feeling, Mia?"
"Anita?" Mia was familiar with most personnel from the Adirondack County Sheriff's Office through years of visiting her father at work, but Emerson's presence here seemed unexpected. "As good as I can be.” Mia was puzzled. “Why are you here?"
"The office needs your official statement about what happened out there. You know, how you knew about the location, what you found, what you remember about the incident. It’s just protocol.
" Anita paused, studying Mia's face. "And, of course, I wanted to check up on you personally.
Make sure you're okay. That was quite an ordeal you went through.
They're saying the blogger may not pull through. It's touch and go. Still in a coma."
"Yeah," Mia said, feeling guilty about Gideon's condition despite knowing she wasn't responsible for what had happened to him.
Anita looked at her with an expression that seemed oddly calculating. "Oh, by the way, I received the bones from your father. Clever that you kept some for backup. Good thinking. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? Who knows, maybe they'll be a match for Travis Rudd."
"Wait. He gave those to you?" Something in Mia's stomach tightened with unease.
"Of course. All evidence has to be logged before it’s processed. The county has jurisdiction over that farmland where you were found." Anita looked around the room as if cataloging its contents. "So, about that statement. What do you remember about the incident?"
Mia closed her eyes for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts.
"Heading out to the farm with Gideon. Climbing into the well.
Finding the skeletal remains. Then falling when I was climbing back out.
I heard a commotion. Like Gideon was fighting with someone.
Then after that, Gideon being pushed into the well.
Someone placing the wooden cover back over the well opening. "
"Did you see who put the cover back?"
"No. I just saw the wood being shifted into place."
"Are you sure?" Anita's question carried an intensity that seemed disproportionate to the information being gathered.
"Positive."
Anita picked up Mia's bag of clothes from the bedside chair, examining it with professional interest. "Were you wearing these when it happened?"
"I was. Why?"
"Just checking to make sure you don't have any more bones. The family will want all the remains returned for proper burial. You didn't keep any others, did you?"
"No. Look, do you know if the lab will be able to match the bones to the glove?"
"What glove?" Anita asked.
"The latex glove from the original Hale case. It was submitted as evidence for DNA analysis."
Anita frowned. "I don’t believe there is any glove at the office."
"But it was part of the case file. It was found at the crime scene and submitted for DNA testing."
"How would you know that? Has your father or someone else working for the department provided you with confidential information about evidence?"
"No, no one has told me anything confidential."
"Be honest, Mia. You could get in a lot of trouble for lying about this."
"I'm not lying. The official case report mentioned a latex glove being found at the scene."
"If there was such evidence, we’ll find it.
Don't worry, we'll be able to match the bones to all existing DNA samples.
If this is Travis Rudd, then I guess that solves one mystery.
" Anita took a deep breath. "You know, Mia, you have good investigative instincts.
You should consider joining the sheriff's department when you're ready.
I'm sure it would make your grandfather proud. "
"Right," Mia said, not trusting herself to say more.
A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Ethan appeared in the doorway, and Mia felt a wave of relief at seeing her brother's familiar face.
"Looks like you have a visitor," Anita said, standing and smoothing her uniform. "Well, if you remember anything else about the incident, call me, okay?" She handed Mia a business card. "Take care. I'll check in on you again soon."
Anita nodded to Ethan as she passed him in the doorway, her departure leaving behind a silence that felt charged with unspoken tension.
Ethan cautiously entered the hospital room. He pulled a chair closer to Mia's bed and set his phone on the side table, his expression carrying worry mixed with something that looked like guilt.
"How are you doing, sis?" he asked, squeezing her uninjured hand.
"Alive. Though I feel awful about Gideon. He's in a coma because of this investigation."
"Yeah, that's rough. I'm just glad you're okay." Ethan sounded relieved, but there was also an undercurrent of anxiety that seemed disproportionate to the situation.
"Ethan, how did you know where I was?"
"I didn't."
"No. Dad told me you found us. On the way here in the ambulance."
"You must have misunderstood or were too drugged out. They had you on some pretty strong medication."
"No. I asked him twice. How did you know I was at that farm?"
She noticed him glance at his phone, then look away quickly. "Look, don't worry about that. All that matters is you're alive. Can I get you a drink?"
"No. I want you to tell me how you knew where I was."
"I just told you, it wasn't me who found you."
She studied him for a moment or two then shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I misheard." Mia looked at Ethan's phone on the side table. "You know, I think I will have that drink."
"Hot chocolate?"
"Sure."
As soon as Ethan left the room, Mia grabbed his phone. It was locked, but she tried several combinations before entering his birthday. The screen opened, revealing his Facebook app was already active. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw the account name: Ivy Rivers.
The messages were all there, weeks of communication with her through the mysterious Facebook account that had been monitoring her investigation.
Even a couple of voicemails she had received.
What girl had he convinced to say those?
Mia set the phone down carefully, her mind racing with implications she didn't want to accept.
She got out of bed despite her injuries and emptied her purse onto the hospital blanket, searching through every pocket and compartment until the bag was completely empty.
That's when she felt a suspicious lump in the bag's lining.
Tearing back a Velcro strip that held the fabric in place, she discovered a small electronic device hidden in the bag's construction: a GPS tracker.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made her quickly stuff everything back into the purse and return to bed just as Ethan entered with drinks and a candy bar.
"Not sure the vending machine is much good, but a drink is a drink. I got you a Snickers too." He set the items down and looked at her with growing concern. "You okay, sis? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Mia accepted the hot chocolate and took a sip before speaking. "Thanks." She paused, studying her brother's face. "Ivy."
Ethan's eyes widened, and for a moment something like a smile danced across his features before disappearing. "What?"
"Ivy Rivers. That's the name you used on that fake Facebook profile, isn't it?"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's on your phone, Ethan. Don't lie to me."
Ethan said nothing, his head dropping as the pretense became impossible to maintain.
"Why? Why would you send those messages? Why would you track my movements?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Ethan, you knew where I was because you were tracking me." She produced the GPS device she'd found. "This was hidden in my purse. Answer me. Why would you do this?"
"You wouldn't get it."
"Try me."
It took several moments for Ethan to compose himself enough to speak. "We lost Mom to her investigating. I didn't want to lose you too."
"That's it?"
He shrugged. "And there's your plan to pursue a career in law enforcement. You're going to leave High Peaks eventually. I’m going to be stuck here alone."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it? Mia, look at my grades compared to yours. Yours keep going up, mine keep going down. I saw your computer, heard you talking about the FBI. You're planning to join, which means leaving."
"Sure, but that's not for a long while. I have years before I can even apply."
"Still, eventually you'll go."
"We all leave home eventually. You will too."
"No. Leaving isn't in the cards for me."
"Of course it is. You get to choose what you do with your life."
"Do we, sis?"
"I know you're smart enough to do anything you want."
"You think you know me. When was the last time we actually spent time together?"
Mia started to respond, then realized she couldn't remember a recent conversation that wasn't rushed or distracted. "Well, I mean..."
"That's right. Most of the time you have your head buried in books or you're out with friends. I don't have friends. Since Mom's death, things have just gotten worse and worse. I've tried to put on a brave front for Dad, but..."
"No, Ethan, you've been..."
"Been what?"
"Fine. Good. Is that what you were about to say?"
Instead of answering, Ethan rolled up his sleeve, revealing a pattern of old cuts on his forearm, some healed, some more recent.
"What the hell? You've been cutting yourself again?"
"Again? I never stopped."
Mia sat up in bed despite the pain in her arm. "Ethan, you need to talk to someone about this. To Dad. To a therapist."
"A therapist? You really think talking about it is going to help? Has therapy helped Dad? He acts like Mom's death doesn't affect him, but I've seen those bottles of alcohol accumulating. All those extra hours he logs at work. We spend more time at Gretchen's or Ed's than we do at home with him."
"He's only one person, Ethan. He has to work to support us."
"Every hour of the day? I needed him and he wasn't there."
"He's done the best he could under the circumstances."
"Did you learn that from one of your psychology textbooks, or is that your way of handling the pain?"
Mia sighed, recognizing the truth in his criticism.
"Ethan, why go to all this trouble? The fake Facebook account, the tracker?"
"I just told you. Hell, you should be thanking me.
If I hadn't been tracking you, you'd still be in that well with Gideon.
He would be dead, and you might have died too.
All that investigative work, and where did it get you?
Almost buried alive. You still want to go into law enforcement after this? "
Ethan moved to the window and stared out at the parking lot. Mia got out of bed and placed her uninjured hand on his shoulder.
"Dad acts like he's not like grandfather, but he is. He's exactly like him, and so will you be if you go down that path. I just wanted to..."
"Convince me to not go into law enforcement?”
He nodded. "Didn't you notice my suggestions about working for the newspaper instead?"
"Mom investigated stories and died.”
"But at least the chances of dying are smaller in journalism."
"In High Peaks, the chances of dying seem pretty high no matter what you do." Mia shook her head. "Ethan, I know you care, and I know you meant well. I'm not angry, just disappointed. But you can't be doing things like this. Your fears are starting to mirror Dad's."
As Mia turned to hug her brother, she glanced out the window and saw Sergeant Emerson in the parking lot, walking toward her vehicle. As Mia watched, Anita climbed into a white Jeep.
"Ethan, when you showed up at the farm to find us, did you pass anyone on the way in?"
"Yeah, a white Jeep. It was speeding away from the farm. I figured it was the property owner or someone who'd gotten lost and was turning around."
Mia looked down at the parking lot where Anita was starting her engine.
A realization struck her. Had Anita Emerson been at Hemlock Hollow Farm?
Had Anita made Gideon release the rope while Mia was climbing out of the well?
Had Anita struck Gideon and thrown his unconscious body into the well?
Had Anita placed the wooden cover back over the opening, trapping them both to die in the darkness?
Her thoughts circled back to Anita’s conversation.
"The office needs your official statement about what happened out there. You know—how you knew about the location, what you found, what you remember about the incident. It’s just protocol."
"They're saying the blogger may not pull through. It's touch and go. Still in a coma."
"Did you see who put the cover back?"
And now Anita had possession of the bone evidence that could solve the Hale murders.
Had a corrupt insider they'd been searching for been hiding in plain sight, wearing a Sheriff's Office uniform and conducting official interviews while covering up a decade-old conspiracy that had already claimed multiple lives?
And if it was true, why?
As the white Jeep pulled out of the hospital parking lot, Mia understood that she'd possibly identified the person responsible for Pierce's murder, Travis Rudd's death, and the systematic cover-up that had protected the real killers for ten years.
The question was what to do with that knowledge when the person responsible wore a badge and had access to all the evidence that could expose her crimes.