Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

They'd hit another dead end. Henry Greico was a bartender who'd been at work, surrounded by dozens of people. The other, Devon Mills, had been out of town, attending a friend's bachelor party in Vegas.

A knock sounded on the door, and both men glanced up at their dispatcher. "Sorry to interrupt," Yvonne began, "but I just got a call from Earl Weaver. Says he was out fishing a couple miles from Ms. Gill's place and found something you might want to see."

Reed studied her. "He say what it was?"

"High heeled shoe." Yvonne lifted one shoulder. "Got his attention because those aren't too common out in the woods."

No, they weren't. Cam nodded as he and Sawyer pushed from their chairs. "Thanks, Yvonne. Send the coordinates to my phone and tell him we'll be there soon."

Earl Weaver operated a small sporting goods store in town and owned a good chunk of land that abutted the subdivision where Lindsey lived. They'd questioned him several days ago but his wife, who was retired, hadn't seen or heard anything at the time of her disappearance. Earl himself had just opened the shop and was the only person on duty until eleven that morning.

Cam's phone pinged with a message as they slid into the cruiser, and Sawyer plugged the location into the GPS. According to the directions Weaver had given them, the location was approximately three miles northwest of Lindsey Gill's home.

"Wasn't the search party out this way already?" Reed asked, his brow furrowed as he stared out the windshield.

"I thought so." Cam bit back a curse. "Must have missed it on the first pass."

Cam wanted to be pissed, but the volunteers had worked tirelessly for several days before coming up empty-handed. Though they'd collected a handful of evidence, nothing had been linked conclusively to Lindsey's disappearance. To find the shoe now seemed more than a little suspicious.

When they arrived, the scene was already being secured by two uniformed deputies. Yellow tape fluttered in the breeze, marking off the area where the shoe had been found.

Earl Weaver stood to the side, and Cam made a beeline toward him. "Thanks for calling us, Mr. Weaver."

"Cam." Earl extended a hand for a firm shake.

"Have you met Detective Reed yet?" Cam gestured toward Sawyer. "He's new to Brookhaven."

Earl dipped his chin at Sawyer and shook his hand. "Sorry to meet under these circumstances, Detective."

Sawyer nodded. "Can you show us where you found the shoe?"

Weaver nodded and led them a few yards into the underbrush. The shoe lay there, partially hidden by leaves and dirt.

Sawyer crouched down, examining the shoe without touching it. "We need to get this to the lab ASAP."

Cam nodded in agreement. "Let's secure the area, see if we can find anything else."

Sawyer carefully collected the shoe, along with any other potential evidence. A few yards away, Cam noticed some broken branches, and he wandered in that direction. The ground had been disturbed, the leaves kicked up as if something—or someone—had recently passed through.

"Reed." He gestured with his chin toward a sight depression in the earth. "Looks like someone might have been through this way."

Sawyer joined him a moment later, his eyes scanning the ground. "Footprints."

Cam nodded. "Someone tried to obliterate them, but the ground must have been too soft."

Sawyer glanced over at Cam. "When did it rain last?"

"Two days ago."

"And before that?"

Cam immediately picked up on his train of thought. "Shit. We need to check to see whether it rained the night before her disappearance."

Maybe the search party hadn't missed the shoe at all. Maybe the perp had circled back and planted it after he'd absconded with Lindsey.

"Let's spread out, see if we can track them."

Sawyer nodded, his eyes scanning the ground. "Looks like the footprints lead that direction," he said, pointing toward a faint trail of impressions in the soft earth. He lifted his gaze to Cam, brows drawn together. "Wait. Isn't Lindsey's subdivision that way?"

Cam glanced toward the woods and nodded grimly. "Yep."

They moved carefully, eyes trained on the ground as they set off toward Lindsey's house. The sporadic footprints led them deeper into the woods, the dense canopy overhead casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. They followed the trail for what felt like an eternity, the forest growing quieter around them, until they reached a small creek that cut through the backside of Earl's property.

The creek babbled softly, its clear water flowing over smooth stones. The footprints led straight to the edge of the creek and then... disappeared. Cam and Sawyer stood at the water's edge, staring at the spot where the trail seemed to vanish.

"My guess is he waded into the creek," Cam said, his brow furrowed. "But which way did he go?"

Sawyer scanned the area, considering the possibilities. "Let's split up."

Cam nodded. "Keep looking over here. See if he followed the water. I'll check the other side."

He waded through the shallow water to the bank on the opposite side, then clambered out, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of footprints. But the ground here was as clean as the forest—no footprints, no broken branches, nothing.

"Goddamn it." Cam propped his hands on his hips. "Either he obliterated the rest of the prints, or?—"

"He was in the water," Sawyer finished for him, his expression grim. "Fuck."

Cam looked down the length of the creek. "If he waded through the creek, he could have gone either north or south."

"I'll take the north, you head south," Sawyer replied. "If we don't find anything, we'll regroup back here."

Cam nodded, then slowly made his way south along the creek. The water gurgled softly beside him as he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the perpetrator. A few hundred yards away, he noticed an outcropping of rock jutting out over the water, the surface slick and covered with moss.

He climbed onto the rock, examining it closely. If the man was trying to avoid leaving a trail, the rocks would be a good place to climb out. Carefully, Cam made his way up the rock, searching for any sign that someone else had been there. His heart raced as he reached the top, but his excitement quickly faded. There were no footprints, no signs of disturbance. It was as if the rock itself was the end of the line.

Pulling out his phone, he called Sawyer. "I found an outcropping where he could have climbed out without leaving a trail," he said. "But there's nothing here."

"Nothing on my end either," Sawyer replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "Let's search the area around those rocks. Maybe there's something we missed."

While Cam waited on Sawyer, he began to methodically search the area around the outcropping. A few moments later Sawyer arrived and together they combed through the underbrush, turning over fallen logs and scouring the rocky ground for any clue that might have been overlooked. But the forest remained stubbornly silent, giving up none of its secrets.

After more than an hour of searching, they stood together on the outcropping and stared out over the creek. Sawyer raked one hand through his hair. "It's like he vanished into thin air."

Fury pulsed through Cam's veins. The asshole was taunting them. He'd taken Lindsey, and now he was deliberately leaving clues, trying to throw them off their game.

He met Sawyer's gaze. "There's a trail here somewhere, and we're damn well going to find it."