Page 47 of Veil of Silence

He filled her in.

Austin’s father had followed some kind of lead from Memphis to Knoxville and then to Fog Lake.

Whatever that lead was, Austin had just found a piece of it.

And this time, he intended to find out where the trail led.

Chapter

Sixteen

Mikey Dawson is doing exactly what I arranged for him to do: nothing.

He isn’t answering his phone. He isn’t at home. He hasn’t shown up where people expect him to be, and he won’t be explaining his absence anytime soon.

I made sure of that.

The story doesn’t have to hold forever. It only has to hold long enough.

By now, Sheriff Wilder will be pulling together everything Shelby has told him about the custody dispute. The calls. The threats. The fear. Mikey has already given them a motive, and his disappearance will supply the rest.

I smile as I picture the investigation focusing on him.

By the time they realize Mikey didn’t take his son, Preston will be beyond their reach.

Fear is useful that way. Give someone enough of it, and eventually they start filling in the gaps for you.

I stand near the back of the fellowship hall, and I watch two volunteers as they pull boxes from a storage area there. I volunteered to help sort through things. The church says they’ll need all the space available for their 100th Homecoming.

I’m looking forward to the date. But I have other problems to address first.

Such as the fact that Austin Donnelly is in Fog Lake.

Of course, he is.

I heard his name less than twenty minutes ago. Jeff Donnelly’s son. FBI, just like his father.

Some families passed down businesses. Others passed down bad habits.

Apparently the Donnellys passed down the inability to leave things alone.

Jeff had been manageable. Retired. Older. Working alone.

And still he’d gotten further than he should have.

Far enough that something had needed to be done.

His son is different. Younger. Active FBI. Probably more connected.

And now he’s talking to Nora Loveless while deputies search for Preston Dawson.

That bothers me most. Not that he’s here. That he’s with her.

Nora has always been the difficult one to read.

Wren shows everything on her face. Marlowe practically dares people to ask what she’s thinking.

But Nora watches. Listens. Remembers.