Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cam stared at the lab results in front of him, frustration gnawing at his insides. The high-heeled shoe found in the woods was definitely Lindsey Gill's—there was no doubt about that. But it was another dead end. No prints, no DNA, nothing that could point them toward her abductor.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. The shoe had been found in an area that had already been combed by the search party, solidifying the suspicion that someone had placed it there after the initial search. Whoever took Lindsey was still out there, watching, taunting the police with every move.

The idea that someone was out there, enjoying this game of cat and mouse, made Cam's blood boil. He was determined to find Lindsey's abductor and bring him to justice. The thought of Lindsey, alone and scared, gave him a renewed sense of urgency.

There had to be something they were missing, some small clue that would lead them to the person responsible. He spread out all the evidence on the conference room table. Photos, reports, timelines—everything they had gathered since Lindsey's disappearance. This was the work of someone meticulous, someone who knew how to cover their tracks. The shoe was a deliberate move, a way to mock their efforts.

He needed to speak with Lindsey's friends and family again—see if they'd remember anything. He needed a lead, something to break the case open. Lindsey's family was his only hope.

Knocking on the door, Cam was greeted by Mrs. Gill, her eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights and endless tears. She ushered him inside without a word, leading him to the living room where Mr. Gill and Lindsey's boyfriend, Andrew, were waiting.

"Thank you for seeing me again," Cam began, taking a seat. "I know this is difficult, but we need to find who did this to Lindsey. Has anyone remembered anything that might help us? Anyone who had a grudge or seemed suspicious?"

Mrs. Gill shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "We've gone over everything so many times. She was such a good girl. No enemies, no trouble."

Mr. Gill's face was stony, his grief manifesting as anger. "We'd have told you already if we knew something. This is killing us."

Cam's gaze shifted to Andrew, who had been silent, staring at the floor. "Andrew, you spent a lot of time with Lindsey. Was there anything at all that stood out? Even something that seemed minor at the time? Anyone new she might have come into contact with?"

Andrew looked up, his expression stark. "Not really. I mean…" He trailed off, looking pensive. "There was one thing... She was in a minor car accident a couple of months ago. Just a fender-bender, but it shook her up a bit."

Cam leaned forward, adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Do you know who was involved in the accident? Or where she got the car repaired?"

Andrew nodded slowly. "Yeah, she told me about it. The other driver was some guy, not sure of his name. But I remember she took her car to a local repair shop. Benson's Auto Repair, I think."

"That's right," Mary said. "But we've used Joe Benson's shop for years."

Cam nodded. "It's a place to start. Maybe she ran into someone there, or he's hired someone new recently." He turned back to Andrew, his mind racing with possibilities. "Did she mention if the other driver was angry or upset?"

Andrew frowned, trying to recall. "The guy ran a stop sign, but he blamed her for it. I think he was just in a hurry and upset he got caught. But it was just a small accident, you know? We didn't think much of it."

Cam stood, a sense of purpose igniting within him. "This is good, Andrew. Very good. We'll check out Benson's Auto Repair and find out who the other driver was. It might be nothing, but it's a lead."

Mr. Gill rose, his expression softening slightly. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Please, find who did this to our girl."

Cam nodded, leaving the grieving family with a glimmer of hope. He headed straight to his car, dialing Sawyer's number as he walked. The phone rang twice before Sawyer picked up.

"Sawyer, it's Cam. I'm just leaving the Gills place now." He briefly explained what Andrew had told him. "We've got two new leads—Benson's Auto Repair and the other driver involved in Lindsey's fender-bender. I'm heading to the repair shop now."

"Got it," Sawyer replied. "I'll start digging into the accident report, see if I can find out who the other driver was. Let's hope this gets us somewhere."

Cam hung up and drove toward Benson's Auto Repair, the sun setting behind him. The repair shop was a small, rundown building on the outskirts of town, the kind of place where secrets could easily hide.

Walking inside, Cam was greeted by the smell of motor oil and the sound of clanging tools. A middle-aged man in greasy overalls approached him, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Can I help you?" the man asked, eyeing Cam curiously.

"Lt. Campbell McCoy," he said, flashing his badge. "I'm looking for information about a car that was repaired here a couple of months ago. A woman named Lindsey Gill brought it in after a minor accident."

The man, Joe, scratched his head, thinking. "Yeah, I know her—Mary and John's girl. Her car had a busted bumper and a few dents. Took me a couple of days to fix it up."

"Do you have any records of the repair? And do you remember anything about the other driver involved in the accident?"

Joe nodded as he headed toward a cluttered desk in the corner. He rifled through a stack of papers before pulling out a file. "Here it is. Lindsey Gill's car."

Cam took the file, scanning it quickly. "Can I get a copy of this?"

"Sure, I'll make a copy."

As the man made a copy of the file, Cam's mind raced. He had a starting point, and now he needed to find the other driver. This lead felt promising, like the first crack in the case that could bring the whole thing down.

"Here you go." Joe passed the paper to Cam, then dropped into his chair.

"Thanks." He glanced up at the white board listing the vehicles next in the queue, and the mechanics' names next to them. "Last thing—Who worked on Lindsey Gill's car?"

Joe leaned back, his chair creaking. "That'd be Ray. Good mechanic. Does most of the bodywork around here. He's off today, though."

Cam nodded. "Do you have Ray's full name and contact information?"

Joe scribbled down the details on a piece of paper and handed it over. "Ray Mitchell. You can call him, but he's usually out fishing on his day off. Won't get much from him until tomorrow."

Cam pocketed the note. "What's Ray's usual schedule? Was he here the day Lindsey was abducted?"

Joe frowned, thinking back. "Let me check the time sheets." He shuffled through another pile of papers and pulled out a logbook. "Yeah, he was here. Clocked in at seven forty-two and left a few minutes after six."

Cam felt a small wave of relief. Another lead checked, another dead end. Ray could be ruled out. "Thanks, Joe. This helps a lot. Do you have surveillance cameras here?"

Joe shook his head. "Nope, too expensive for a small place like this. Sorry, wish I could do more."

Cam gave a tight smile. "You've done plenty. I'll get in touch with Ray tomorrow, just to cover all bases. For now, I need to focus on finding that other driver."

Joe watched as Cam turned to leave. "Good luck, Detective. I hope you find who did this."

As Cam walked back to his car, he dialed Sawyer's number again. The line connected, and Sawyer's voice filtered through a moment later. "Reed."

"Sawyer, it's Cam. Got the mechanic's name—Ray Mitchell. He was at work during Lindsey's abduction, so we can rule him out."

"Good," Sawyer replied. "One less suspect to worry about."

"Any luck on the other driver?"

"Boyd Ellis," came Sawyer's reply.

"I'm heading back to the station now," Cam said as he cranked the engine. "We need to talk with this guy. He might be our break."

Back at the station, he scanned the accident report. There was an address and phone number listed, and a glimmer of hope flashed through his chest.

Cam dialed the number, heart pounding. It rang three times before a voice answered, gruff and impatient. "Hello?"

"Mr. Ellis, this is Detective Cam with the Brookhaven Sheriff's Department. I need to ask you a few questions about a car accident you were involved in a couple of months ago with a woman named Lindsey Gill."

There was a pause on the other end, a hesitation that made Cam's pulse quicken. "Yeah, I remember. What about it?"

"I'm not sure if you're aware, but Ms. Gill was recently abducted from her home."

The man paused. "I didn't realize that was her. Sorry to hear that."

"Thank you, Mr. Ellis. We're checking with everyone she's come into contact with recently. Can you tell me your whereabouts that morning?"

Cam rattled off the date and time, and Boyd Ellis made a low sound on the other end of the phone. "Let me check my calendar."

Cam fidgeted restlessly, listening to the soft shuffling in the background, until the man finally came back on the line. "I was in Denver that week for work."

Goddamn it. Cam clenched his molars together before speaking. "I assume someone can verify this?"

"My boss—Cindy Broussard."

Cam took down the woman's information, then thanked the man and hung up, tossing his phone on the desk. Another fucking dead end.

He sat back, exhaustion and frustration creeping over him. They needed something—anything—that could point them in the right direction. Tomorrow, he hoped, would bring the breakthrough they needed.