The Bones of the Old Case

“I looked them up in the library index. They dumped communications hardware into a bunch of lake towns in the late nineties.” “Communications hardware?” Cal said. “Sounds charitable.” “Sounds like infrastructure,” Nia replied. “You can use it to collect feedback. Record it. Reroute it. Or pin it in place.” Mara felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. “So the tower fire wasn’t just a fire,” she said. “Somebody was trying to seal something.” “Worse,” Jessa said, lowering her voice. “Look at this social notice. After the fire, a little boy went missing for a week and then came back on his own. The paper called it lost and found.” She turned the page. It was Dale Harker, age twelve. The room went silent. “Dale?” Mara said carefully. “The Dale?”