by Sarah Sutton
“Where were you last night?” Tara questioned.
He looked down at the pictures and then up at her. “What the hell is all this about exactly?”
“Please answer the question.”
“I was home all day yesterday. Why?”
“Do any of these people look familiar to you?” Tara asked.
He took one look at the pictures and shook his head and his face suddenly morphed into confusion.
“Wait, did you think the blood in my kitchen was a person’s?” He let out a nervous laugh at the absurdity.
“These individuals went missing along the Appalachian Trail. The same area where you often hunt,” Tara replied.
“Whoa, whoa! I may hunt illegally, but I’ve never killed a person before.”
His surprise felt sincere and Tara noticed that the rash on his chest had now begun to subside. He’s telling the truth, she thought to herself. She picked up the pictures and placed them back in the folder and then reached deeper to pull out the one last thing to determine if he really was being truthful. She grabbed hold of the evidence bag and pulled it out of the folder. Inside it was the compass.
“Does this look familiar to you?” She held up the evidence bag so he could clearly see.
He knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “I mean, I’ve seen a compass before. I don’t own one.”
“Have you ever seen this compass before?” she prodded.
He quickly shook his head. “I’ve never seen it before.”
Tara let out a sigh. She knew this wasn’t him. She placed the compass back in the folder and looked toward Warren. “I think we’re done here,” she said.
He nodded, affirming that he knew it too—this wasn’t their guy. They both stood up and made their way to the door.
“Wait, wait! Does this mean I’m off the hook?” McNamara asked from behind them.
Tara reached for the doorknob as she turned her head back toward him.
“No, not at all,” she added. “Illegal hunting is still a crime.”
***
“It’s not him,” Tara said as she shook her head. They stood outside the interrogation room, staring through the one-way mirror yet again. “That man can’t tell a lie.”
Warren nodded. They both saw it—his unmistakable anxiety when he thought they were questioning him about illegal hunting, when he lied about what he caught. But the second they questioned him about murder, he spoke with ease. He knew he wasn’t guilty, and Tara and Warren now knew it too.
The door creaked opened and Tara turned around to see Sheriff Brady briskly walking into the room.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“We don’t think it’s him,” Tara said abruptly.
Brady’s face fell. “What do you mean, you don’t think it’s him? You have nothing to even rule him out yet.”
It was odd that she was now questioning why they were ruling him out, when hours earlier, she was so sure they were wasting their time in interviewing him.
Warren stepped in. “We can’t rule him out completely but we don’t have enough to convict him either.” He paused. “And we have a feeling it’s not him,” he revealed.
“So, all this is based on feeling?” Brady snapped back. Heat boiled to her face. “We can’t spend all this time continuing an investigation because of a feeling,” she insisted.
Tara then realized what it was that changed for her. The stress of this investigation was finally beginning to take a toll on her. After all, it was Sheriff Brady’s job, and the cops under her to make sure all hikers were informed in the area that the trail was closed, and to keep them off of it.
“We can’t end an investigation prematurely either. It’s dangerous,” Warren cautioned. He took a deep breath. “Did you get the blood results back?” he finally asked.
Tara could see the vein in his forehead begin to pulse at the agitation.
“Yes, we did,” Brady replied, stone-faced. “But I don’t want you to think that this means that we can rule him out.”
“It wasn’t human blood, was it?” Tara said.
Brady remained silent for a moment and then reluctantly confirmed by nodding her head.
Warren let out a slight laugh. “So what exactly makes you so sure this is the guy?”
“He has no alibi, he’s a hunter. And he’s clearly aggressive given that he tried to assault an FBI agent.” She spat the words out as if them not seeing it all was stupidity.
Warren took a deep breath. “We don’t have solid evidence,” he repeated.
“Well, Agent Warren, if you want to spend federal dollars prolonging this investigation, than that is out of my control, but I think we should be spending more time narrowing in on McNamara.”
Tara suddenly interjected. “Sheriff Brady, the killer could very well still be out there.”
The sheriff’s face tightened. “I can’t stop you from continuing this investigation, but our job is to also limit the damage this is causing to our trail. This is becoming a circus! And I’m at my wits’ end trying to keep people away from the trail. We now even have crazy people hiking just to find this killer on their own!” Brady looked from Tara to Warren. “I have nothing more to say to you two, but we’ve appreciated your help to bring McNamara in.”
At those words, Sheriff Brady opened the door and closed it behind her. Tara turned to Warren. They both knew they had to move fast.
Warren stared off into the distance, his face scrunched in thought.
He then spoke. “I think we should set up a dragnet.”
Tara nodded. He was right. It was the only possible way to catch the killer. They had no other lead, but they might be able to pick checkpoints where he might travel through next, and hunt him down themselves.
“That might be hard with just the two of us though,” Tara replied.
It was unlikely that Chief Brady would offer up her own officers, but to cover such a large amount of ground, they needed more than just two people.
Warren turned to her fully. “I know,” he said. “I think we should call some neighboring police stations.”
Chapter Nineteen
Tara and Warren stood in a room of the Bridgewater police station with ten eager officers standing around them. It didn’t take Warren long to find some volunteers. The first station he called, the chief got on the phone and volunteered ten of his guys, including a lieutenant. Now they all stood in front of them like soldiers.
Tara looked down at the map, rolled out on a large table. It was the same map they had stared at earlier that day—that marked each crime scene and the direction of the compasses.
She and Warren had already contemplated that the killer was moving south and they had agreed that it was the best lead they had right now, but with a trail that spanned across fourteen states, and with crime scenes randomly spaced apart, determining where he would strike next would be difficult. They knew they didn’t have much time. They had already lost almost a full day, and it was likely the killer could strike again that very night.
Warren spoke to the room. “We’ll pick some checkpoints and split up into teams.”
They all nodded.
“Just let us know where you need us. We know these trails well,” the lieutenant replied for all of them.
His last name was Daniels and he stood about six feet, with a five o’clock shadow that made his jaw look even more defined than it already was. It was nice to have someone on their side for a change, and Tara felt a new optimism in his presence.
She peered at the map again and placed one finger on the dot where the second crime scene was, right outside of Hanover, New Hampshire, and another finger over the dot that marked the third crime scene in Vermont.
“Well, he traveled fifteen miles in about twenty-four hours, so potentially that means in five hours…” She used the map’s scale and mapped out another fifteen from where that murder occurred. “He would be about here, in Vermont, where the trail intersects with Route Four.” She placed her f
inger down on the map to mark the spot. “I think one checkpoint should be there.”
Warren agreed. Lieutenant Daniels stepped forward, peering down at the map as well.
“What about Gifford Woods State Park?” he asked as he placed his finger down on the map, where the trail intersected with Route 100. “There’s a campground there. It’s closed right now with everything going on, but I know for a fact that people have still been trying to camp there.”
It was the same thing Sheriff Brady had said, that people were still not fully abiding to the portion of the trail being closed.
“All right, we got another checkpoint then,” Warren said.
They continued to pick out four more spots on the trail, based on access points, close proximity to campgrounds, and the estimated speed at which the killer was moving.
Warren then partnered them up, assigning each group a checkpoint until none remained. Tara was assigned the Route Four intersection and partnered with the lieutenant. Warren would take Gifford Woods State Park with another officer.
When done, Warren spoke again. “This could be very dangerous,” he warned the room. “You all need to be on your highest alert.”
There was a stroke of intimidation in his tone and stance that reminded Tara of the first time she met him. All the officers abruptly nodded at his words.
He continued: “Each team will take a walkie-talkie. We need to check in when we get there, and then every twenty minutes…and well, of course, if you see something.”
They each took a flashlight and radio, which were piled on one end of the table. Warren reached for the map and rolled it up before walking toward the door. Tara and all the other officers followed behind. But just before Tara left the room, she caught a glimpse of the clock hanging over the doorframe. It was now six thirty PM and she could hear the clock ticking away.
***
Tara checked the time on her phone, which showed it was one AM exactly. She and Lieutenant Daniels had been waiting at their checkpoint for about six hours. They had walked the trail a few times already, but they had yet to see anyone, and they were now sitting in the car as close to the trail as possible.
Tara had grown to like the lieutenant. He was optimistic, easy to work with, and just like Tara, he was new in his role. Their conversations were mostly about the case, but they had some small talk too to fill in the silence and she had just learned he was promoted last year.
“What made you want to get into law enforcement?” she asked.
“Eh, I’ve always wanted this. My dad was the chief of Bridgewater many years ago. He’s retired now, but I always wanted to follow in his footsteps.”
“To be chief?”
He nodded. “That’s the goal. I think it’s always been my dad’s too,” he said with a smile. “He threw this big party last year when I got lieutenant. I can only imagine what it’ll be like if I ever get chief,” he added with a chuckle.
Tara forced a smile. She couldn’t help but feel envious of the relationship he had with his father. He spoke about him with such admiration and it was clear how much his influence shaped him. It was a support system Tara had never had, and she wondered how different her life would’ve been if she did.
“What about you?” he asked.
Tara’s face flushed. “Same,” she said. “It’s been a dream of mine since I can remember.”
He waited for her to elaborate, and an awkward silence filled the car. But then a voice sounded through the walkie-talkie. It was Warren.
“Checking in,” he said.
Tara held down the button and spoke, thankful for the distraction.
“Nothing to report here,” she said.
One by one, each group checked in, reiterating Tara’s words. They had nothing to report.
Tara placed the radio back down and sat further into her seat. A cool breeze flowed in through the window and brushed against her face, but just as quickly as it came, it left, and the humid summer heat settled once again within the car, along with the silence.
“Maybe we should check the trail again?” she suggested, trying to avoid another question about her past.
They had been checking every thirty minutes, and it was just about that time anyway.
The lieutenant agreed.
They stepped out of the car, flashlights in hand, and were soon entering the trail. Again, not a soul was to be seen, but they continued their rounds. They walked up and down the trail, shining their flashlights every which way, but just like the last few times, there was nothing.
Tara was growing more doubtful about their efforts. No one had discovered anything, and it had been hours. But as the doubt seeped into her mind, so did a feeling of worry. The thought of it all not working. The killer striking again was a fear she had been holding in throughout the whole investigation. What if we can’t find the murderer? she thought to herself. What if we can’t solve this case, my first case? She abruptly shook her head, trying to shake off the thought. I can’t think like that, I can’t afford to.
She focused on the sound of the trees rustling in the wind. It calmed her and her thoughts were steered away from her self-doubt. The woods reminded her of the one time she went camping in her life—when she was a little girl, with her mother. It was such a distant memory, but somehow the dark forest and the smell of pine needles gave it new life. It was one of the few happy memories she had from her childhood.
Suddenly, Tara swung around, flashlight in hand. She heard something, she could swear it. Lieutenant Daniels turned as well.
“You heard that, right?” he asked.
It was the sound of a four-wheeler accelerating. Tara quickly reached for the walkie-talkie on her belt, as she stared down the trail.
“Warren…we hear something,” she said into it.
He quickly responded. “What is it?”
There were no headlights up ahead—the sound was too distant. But she and the lieutenant stood still, listening carefully, until they heard it again—the sound of the four-wheeler picking up speed and then slowing down. What is he doing? she thought to herself.
She held down the button. “It’s a four-wheeler,” she responded to Warren.
She listened again, and continued to hear the same sound, until headlights started to appear, moving closer. They then abruptly veered off the trail, deeper into the woods.
Then suddenly, they heard a scream.
Lieutenant Daniels looked over at her, wide-eyed.
Tara quickly held the radio to her lips. “We heard a scream. We’re going after it.”
“I’m on my way,” she heard Warren reply as she hooked the radio to her hip, turned it to silent, and reached for her gun.
Tara and Daniels bolted down the trail.
They sprinted closer, as they heard the scream again…
And then again…
It was a woman’s voice, and it sent a shiver down Tara’s spine. This is it, she thought.
But all of a sudden, the woman’s voice burst into laughter.
Tara and Daniels slowed down and shared a quick glance. They both knew it was not the sound of a victim. They steered off the trail, pushing through brush, as more voices and laughter could now be heard. They saw light from a campfire in the distance.
They broke through to a clearing and all eyes turned to them, the eyes of teenagers.
Tara reached down for the walkie-talkie.
“False alarm,” she said into it.
She placed it back on her belt and turned to the kids.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out here right now? Have you not heard what’s been going on in these woods?” she asked.
They all stared at her like deer in headlights, as one of the boys tried his best to casually conceal the boxes of beer sitting next to him with a blanket.
“Do your parents know you’re out here?” she asked. She looked up at the four-wheelers, parked around the campfire.
They all stared at her for a moment longer before
one of the boys opened his mouth.
“Yeah, our parents know we’re here.”
It was clearly a lie. His voice shook as he spoke and he took a look around at the group as if seeking approval. The girl sitting next to him nodded her head to confirm his words, but then she looked down toward her feet, letting her hair fall over her face, which had suddenly began to blush.
Tara sighed and told them all to call their parents. They each lifted their heads up, wide-eyed, clearly terrified by her demands.
“You guys cannot be in here, do you understand?” She looked at each one of them, right in their eyes, until one by one their gaze cowered back to the ground.
***
Moments later Tara was standing by her car. She had already said her goodbyes to Lieutenant Daniels. It had been a long night, and after she thanked him, she told him he could head home.
The group of teenagers stood nearby and they turned their heads sharply as they saw a set of headlights approaching. The car pulled up behind Tara’s and Warren quickly stepped out.
“You didn’t have to come,” Tara said as he walked toward her.
He waved his hand in the air as if pushing away her comment.
“It’s late now anyway. I say we call it a night after this.”
Tara nodded.
He then turned toward the teenagers, sending a wave of terrified expressions over them. “So what’s the deal with them?” he asked, before Tara explained that they had already called their parents and they were on their way to come get them.
Just then, a car pulled up and the passenger’s door swung open as a frantic mother stepped out. One of the boys in the group walked quickly toward her, as his mother made a scene. She scolded him on the time.
“You scared me half to death!” she yelled as he slinked into the back seat and quickly closed the door.
One by one each parent came, reprimanded their child, and took them away. Eventually all that remained were her and Warren. They agreed to meet first thing in the morning, and Tara was soon walking to her car. But just as she reached for the door handle, a sudden breeze flowed through the air, brushing against the dried sweat on her arms, and for the first time in the heat, she had goose bumps.