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"Few times," Silas answered, a spark of interest igniting in his otherwise dull eyes. "Place is thick with legend."
"Legend?"
"Yeah... lost gold. Shit... surely you've heard of the lost gold."
"What about this gold?" Ethan pressed gently, as Rachel observed the subtle dance between the two men, a pas de deux of shared heritage and unspoken understanding.
"More than just gold," Silas murmured, leaning forward. His chains rattled—a jarring note in the quiet room. "They say there's a whole network of tunnels down there, untouched since the collapse."
"Sounds dangerous," Ethan mused.
"Dangerous, yeah," Silas agreed, a wry smile playing on his lips. "But the thrill of discovery? That's something else."
Rachel's fingers drummed on the table, her thoughts racing. She knew Ethan was drawing out more than just words from Silas.
"Is that what you were after last night?" Ethan asked, voice still light but eyes sharp as flint. "A bit of treasure hunting? That why you ran?"
Ethan was establishing that Silas had fled. It was a clumsy ask, but Silas seemed far more at ease speaking to Ethan than he had with Rachel the night before.
"I mean... you knew that ground. I saw you riding." Ethan whistled. "Never seen anything like it before. Impressive stuff. You know the area?"
"Could say that," Silas conceded, and Rachel noticed the careful omission, the dance around a direct answer.
The room fell into a brief silence, the hum of fluorescent lights above punctuating the stillness.
"Gold fever's a hell of a thing," Rachel finally spoke, her voice clear and steady. "Makes people do crazy stuff."
Silas nodded, the motion slow, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. "That it does, Ranger. That it does. Didn't really notice you chasing me."
"You pulled a gun," she pointed out.
"Bet you were scared, though, right?" Ethan cut in.
"Yeah. Yeah, that was it. Didn't know you were law. You didn't say it."
Ethan caught Rachel's eye, a silent communication passing between them.
"Tell me more about these legends about gold," Ethan invited, tapping a pen against the notepad in front of him.
"Legends never die, they just burrow into the ground, waiting for the right soul to unearth them." Silas' voice echoed through the sterile walls of the interrogation room, where the air hung thick with tension and old coffee. His eyes shimmered with the fervor of a man who'd spent countless nights chasing shadows of truth in the dust.
"Tell me, Silas," Ethan leaned forward, his tone casual yet probing, "what's the draw? This legend, does it have a name?"
"Sure as the sun scorches the earth," Silas began, his gaze distant, as if he were looking back through time. "They call her 'The Bride's Bounty.' Legend has it that a miner struck gold—a vein so rich, it could've bought the state. But greed breeds treachery; his partners wanted it all. The night they turned on him, he stashed the gold. Only his bride knew where."
Rachel's fingers drummed against the cold metal table. She could almost see the spectral bride, wandering through the ghost town, guarding her secret.
"Supposed to be cursed, too. Every man who's gone looking for it... never comes back the same, if at all." His words trailed off, leaving an unsettling silence.
"Did you go looking, Silas?" Rachel's question sliced through the stillness. Her eyes locked onto his, searching for the flicker of guilt. "Where were you Thursday night when the ATV was stolen?"
"Wasn't stealin' no ATV," Silas retorted, his voice firm, yet weary. "I was out by Devil's Backbone, campin'. Alone, like always."
"Convenient, camping alone. No one to corroborate your story," Rachel mused quietly, more to herself than to him. Her mind raced, picking apart his alibi like a vulture on carrion. Alone in the wilderness, Silas had the opportunity, but did he have the motive?
"Ranger Blackwood," Silas leaned in, a conspiratorial glint in his eye, "you think I'm lyin'? There's an old prospector, goes by Mad Jack—lives in a shack up by the ridge. He saw me that night, even shared a fire and some tales."
"Mad Jack, huh?" Ethan jotted down the name, his demeanor still friendly, but his eyes sharp. "We'll check that out."
