Page 78 of Veil of Silence

Static crackled over the portable speaker near the county map. Prine stepped forward with a microphone, and the conversations around them began to fade.

“We have one priority today,” she started. “Bring Preston Dawson home.”

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Prine reviewed the search rules while volunteers pulled on vests and lifted backpacks from the floor. Everyone was to remain inside the assigned grids and with their group. No one should touch anything, enter a structure, or approach an unfamiliar vehicle.

“This search does not mean we’ve reached any conclusion about what happened to Preston Dawson,” she finished. “Every possibility remains open.”

Luke warned them about the uneven terrain and the high water in Mill Creek before handing the microphone to Pastor Whitfield.

Austin bowed his head with everyone else.

“Lord, you know where Preston is,” the pastor began. “Guide our steps today and bring this child home safely to his mother.”

Austin closed his eyes, but the only prayer he could find was Preston’s name.

By the time the pastor said amen, Austin was ready to go.

The fellowship hall doors opened, letting in a rush of air that felt more like November than late September. Gray clouds had begun gathering above the mountains, and the forecast called for rain by Sunday afternoon. Deputies called grid numbers as volunteers collected maps, flagging tape, and bottled water.

Grid Seven followed an old logging road toward Mill Creek. Deputy Cross led, with Austin, Nora, Marlowe, and six other volunteers spread in a loose line behind him. Wren and Nash were in a different group.

They moved slowly, searching beneath fallen branches and pushing through stands of mountain laurel. Leaves concealed rocks, roots, and holes in the uneven ground. Every scrap of color brought the group to a temporary halt. A candy wrapper. A strip of faded plastic. A child’s mitten that appeared to have been there for years.

Nothing belonging to Preston.

As the morning passed, conversation dwindled. The volunteers conserved their breath for the steep terrain and kept their attention on the ground.

Everything inside Austin urged him to move faster. To search farther. But rushing would leave gaps, and straying beyond their assigned grid could disrupt the pattern Prine had established.

Near noon, the group stopped for water while Cross checked their position.

Before anyone could speak, a shout carried through the trees.

“Over here!”

The volunteers went still.

The voice came again, sharper this time. “I found something!”

The shout sent Nora’s pulse racing.

Deputy Cross reached for his radio and started toward the voice.

“That’s Grid Eight.” He looked back at the volunteers. “Everyone stay here. Nora, you know Preston. Come with me in case we need an identification.”

The words made her stomach twist, but she hurried after him.

Austin stepped forward. “I’m coming too.”

Cross nodded. “Stay behind me.”

Nora followed the two men through the trees. They found a group of searchers gathered at the edge of a shallow ravine. One volunteer stood apart from the others, pointing at something caught beneath a fallen branch.

When Cross stepped aside, Nora’s breath caught.