Tate turned to his computer and entered the geocaching web address into the browser. He turned the screen so that both he and Emma could see it. “Says here that it’s a growing sport both in the U.S. and internationally. Currently the site claims that they have something like a million participants worldwide. The Babcocks gave me their log in information for the website and I’ve played around with it. Seems that you go into the site and enter the zip code for the area that you want to search and it gives you a list of caches and their coordinates. Then you enter the coordinates into a GPS and it leads you to the cache. Once you find it you go back on this website and log your find. That way the cache owner knows how many people have found his hiding spot and you can track the number of caches that you’ve found as well.”
Emma scanned the screen, “You do any research on caches at the lake?”
Nodding Tate replied, “Yep, and there’s ten hidden just in the lake park and over fifty in the county. Seems that State Parks are a popular place to hide them. There’s one hidden at the site where the Babcock boy was killed. Martin and I went out and took a look at it the same day that the boy’s parents told us about it. Basically it was a plastic container covered in cammo tape and hidden under some rocks.” Logging into the website, Tate accessed the Babcocks’ cache log and entered the coordinates for the cache. “The Babcocks didn’t log the find and there was no record of Reva and Saralyn finding this one either. Several others logged this particular cache, so the Babcocks weren’t the first to find it but we do think they were the last. We took the container into evidence but didn’t pull any prints from it other than all the members of the Babcock family.”
“So you think if the killer touched it that he wore gloves? This guy can’t just sit in the woods and wait for someone to show up. There’s something that we’re missing. I want to see one of these caches.”
Tate nodded, “Also, if this is the same cache that Parker found the day she was murdered then she didn’t have time to log the find before he got her. Reva doesn’t have a computer and said that Saralyn always logged their finds. She gave us their log in ID but didn’t know the password. The county lab pulled a report for me from Parker’s computer. They did a back door entry into the caching site and didn’t find any record of this particular cache. The sheriff drove Reva out to the Babcock scene and she didn’t recall looking for or finding any cache there.”
“Maybe he monitors more than one site. Let’s take a ride out to the scene, okay?”
Tate glanced at the clock on his desk. “How about we grab some lunch at the diner then drive out to the lake? We can stop by Parker’s house on the way back.”
“Lunch does sound good. Since we’re going out to the lake, let’s enter some of the geocaching coordinates into the GPS on my phone and take a little hike. I’d like to have a better understanding of how this works and there’s no better way than doing it myself.”
Ten minutes later, Tate and Emma had loaded three waypoints into Emma’s phone. Tate had just strapped on his service revolver when the door to his office opened and Martin stepped in. Noticing Emma sitting at Tate’s desk, Martin flushed with embarrassment, “Sorry Tate, I didn’t know you had a visitor. I’ll come back.
Tate smiled as he snapped the leather safety strap over the top of his gun, “Come on in, Martin. I’d like you to meet someone. Martin, this is SSA Emma Gage-Echo.” Turning to face Emma he continued, “Emma this old geezer is Martin Crawley, the Sheriff of Shannon County.”
Martin grasped Emma’s extended hand in welcome.
Emma spoke first, “Sheriff Crawley, it’s nice to meet you. Tate told me about you and the two cases that you and he are working on. In fact, we were just about to grab some lunch and then go take a look at the kill sites.”
Tate bit back a smile. Martin still held Emma’s hand and it was easy to see that he was totally charmed with the beautiful ex-Mrs. Echo. “Why don’t you join us for lunch, Martin?”
Seeming to recall that he was in Tate’s office and that Tate was in the room, Martin dropped Emma’s hand and turned to face his friend. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I already had my lunch but thanks, anyways. I just stopped by to see if you’d heard back from the FBI and it appears that you not only heard from them but got one visiting.”
Sliding the strap of her bag over her shoulder Emma shared, “I’m here unofficially Sheriff Crawley, but I do hope that I can help in some way.”
“Please call me Martin. I sure hope that you can help us catch this bast--,” Martin’s face reddened. “Excuse me, ma’am, I mean, I sure hope you can help us catch this UnSub, too.”
Surprised by Martin’s self-consciousness, Emma tried but couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up and Tate didn’t even try to stifle his own laughter. “Martin.” Emma said with emphasis on the sheriff’s first name, “I am certainly going to do everything possible to see that the bastard who did this is caught.” It was obvious to Emma that Martin had been raised a gentleman. After six years in the FBI, Emma couldn’t imagine that there was a dirty word that she hadn’t heard, yet this sweet man was embarrassed to have almost said ‘bastard’ in her presence. She liked him already.
Clapping Martin on the shoulder, Tate said, “Stop by the house when you finish your shift, if you have time, and we’ll bring you up to speed on anything we might discover. Like Em said, we’re going to visit the murder scene out at the lake and while we’re there we’re going to do a little geocaching ourselves. We don’t know for sure that it relates to the murders, but at this point we don’t know that it doesn’t either.”
Saying his goodbyes, Martin agreed to stop by Tate’s on his way home.
CHAPTER 24
Walt Mabry climbed into his ten-year-old pickup right behind King. The German shepherd had been a gift from his late wife more than five years ago and Walt rarely went anywhere without him. Pushing a button on the door, Walt lowered the passenger side window half way because King liked to ride with his nose to the wind.
In the seat between man and beast lay his old hat, some sunscreen and his new birthday gift. Talking to the dog as much as to himself, Walt laughed, “Damned if Jules wasn’t right.” This GPS thing is more fun that the metal detector and it sure beat that treadmill she was always trying to get him on. “People walking on those things and never going anywhere makes about as much sense as all those folks who run in the park when nobody’s chasing ‘em.” Walt reached over and ruffled the dog’s ears. “Whatever happened to the good old days when you worked all day, came home to a meal cooked by a pretty woman and watched some TV until bedtime, huh, King?” Barking his agreement, King turned back to the half-open window.
Walt turned his truck onto the bumpy unpaved road, then reached over to steady his new GPS up on the dash, watching the directions as he drove. Avoiding deep ruts and potholes the size of a small pond, Walt kept one eye on the GPS and one on King as he bounced on the bench seat of the old truck. A couple miles farther down the dirt road, Walt pulled over to the road’s edge in what looked like the closest place to get out and walk toward the treasure. Opening the truck door, he grabbed his hat.
“To hell with that sun stuff, huh, King? Jules is too fussy. Took after her mama, she did.” Jules insisted that he take sunscreen along anytime he was planning to be outside, lecturing him about skin cancer and anything else she thought he didn’t know. “Both my girls fussed too much, King. Good thing you’re a single guy.” Plucking the GPS from the dash, Walt said, “Come on, King. Let’s go find us some treasure!”
With a yip, the dog jumped from the truck seat and followed as Walt led the way. Not bothering with a leash, Walt knew that King would stay at his side and together they climbed the small incline to the rocks above. Following the cursor on his GPS, Walt circled one large boulder then another. The climb was steep, but not impossible. Small beads of sweat popped out on his face and Walt stopped to wipe them with his sleeve before bending over to look under the rocks for the hidden cache.
Fifty yar
ds away, Gavin’s computer beeped and the familiar pop up appeared on the screen. “What the hell? All I can see are shoes and rocks! This shit cannot be happening again.”
Closing his computer and grabbing his jacket, Gavin sprinted to the edge of the thick piney woods. Sucking in deep breaths of pine infused spring air, he willed his heart to slow. It’s all good Gav…don’t freak out. Maybe you’ll get a chance to fix the cam.
Standing under the cover of the tall trees lining the roadway, he watched as an old man and a large dog climbed slowly toward the cache. The old man stopped to mop the sweat from his face and Gavin wondered if the man was going to make it up the hill.
“Damn, I didn’t think anyone would come after this one so soon. I should have checked that camera this morning.”
Gavin’s need was so great that he’d almost convinced himself that coin or no coin, this cacher would be the one, but he knew that he couldn’t make that choice. Only the coin could decide. It would choose and Gavin would take great pleasure in bowing to its choice. Moving closer to the road’s edge, Gavin squatted, hoping to avoid detection. He continued to watch the old man.
Sensing or maybe smelling another human in the area the huge dog raised its head. Gavin swore that the beast looked right at him. Peeking through the thick underbrush growing at the base of the trees he whispered, “Dog’s going to be a problem, Gav.”
Pulling a faded yellow margarine container from its hiding place, Walt sat down on the large rock that the cache had been hidden under and popped the top to see what was hidden inside. So far, he’d found two other caches this morning and he’d taken something from them both. From the first cache he’d taken a pick that was topped with an American Flag and from the second cache he’d taken a one dollar lottery ticket. The tiny flag now waved from the sun visor in his truck and the lottery ticket had been a two dollar winner.
“Let’s see what we can find in this one, King. Hope it’s another lottery ticket, ‘cause I’m on a roll. Hell, I might even go buy me one of those tickets when we head home. I feel lucky!”
The old man sat there for what Gavin calculated to be a full ten minutes before he finally snapped the top back on the cache sliding it under the rocks. Gavin saw the man slide his hand into his pants pocket and then motion for the dog to follow him back down the hill.
“Old man, without my computer, I can’t tell if you took my coin or not, but you sure as hell found my cache and that’s good enough for me.” Shaking his head Gavin pushed away the urge to act on his own thoughts rather than waiting to honor his pact with the coin. You know you can’t do it unless he took the token, Gav, he reminded himself. What would Mama say? There’s only one way to find out what you need to know without your computer so suck it up and go talk to the old guy. Just stay away from that big ass dog.
Walt made his way down the hill, and then opened the truck door waiting for King to jump up into the cab. Watching King struggle to jump in the truck, Walt knew that it wouldn’t be too many more years before the dog was going to need a boost to make the seat. Hell, maybe he’d buy a car, something that they could both get in and out of with less trouble than the truck. Slamming the truck door closed, Walt walked to the rear of the vehicle.
Still hidden, Gavin watched until the old man loaded the dog in the truck. Instead of getting in himself, the old guy made his way to the rear of the truck and unzipped his pants to take a leak.
Now, that was a lucky break. Show time, Gav.
As the old guy zipped up, Gavin stepped out of the woods, GPS in hand. Calling a friendly hello, he walked toward the man.
Looking up, Walt replied, “Hey there, you looking for that cache thing?”
Stepping closer, Gavin peered at his GPS and replied, “Yeah, that’s what I’m doing. You find it?”
Walt leaned against his truck and slid one hand into his pants pocket. “I sure did and look what I took from it.” Pulling his hand free from his pocket, the old man extended his arm as his hand opened to reveal the coin. Just the sight of his coin resting in the old man’s calloused hand caused Gavin’s blood to rush from his heart to his head, where it pounded like the native drums that had beat on this land for hundreds of years.
Turning his head toward the cache site, Gavin hoped to hide the raw exuberance that coursed through him, but more than that, he frantically searched for a way to stall the old man while he repositioned his camera.
You need that video!
Knowing that the window of opportunity was small and that the old man would most likely leave before he could move the camera, Gavin gave up the idea as another one took its place. Squatting to tie his shoe, Gavin said, “Pretty cool, hope you left something for me to find.”
The old man never stopped talking long enough to realize that Gavin had moved uncomfortably close or that he now held a large rock in one hand. Gavin shoved him against the truck, pinning him against the warm metal. Inside the truck’s, cab the dog barked and clawed at the window; a vain attempt to help his master. As the rock in Gavin’s hand cracked with a sickening thud against Walt’s skull, he staggered, his body sliding down to the rocky sand on the side of the road.
Struggling to remain conscious, Walt looked up at the younger man with unfocused eyes, “Why?”
Not bothering to answer Walt’s question, Gavin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a hypodermic needle and a strand of red cording. He pushed the needle into Walt’s neck with the quiet efficiency of an emergency room doctor and then slid the empty hypo back into his pocket. Walt struggled to stand but Gavin easily pushed him back down and began to wrap the cording around his wrists. “Just wait for it, old man. You’ll be in K heaven any second now, and once your there you won’t even care that you’re not coming back.”
Securing Walt’s hands in front of him, Gavin stepped back to give the drug time to work. He’d given the old guy a pretty good dose, so he knew that it wouldn’t take but a couple minutes for the potent drug to take its full effect. Jogging quickly up the hill, Gavin made his way to the mini-cam and positioned it so that he should have a clear view of Walt leaning against the side of his truck.
Noticing that the small green light on the device was not illuminated, Gavin cursed, “Fuck. This just gets richer by the minute.” Giving the camera a good thump, he kicked it when the light still didn’t come on. The camera rolled down the incline landing a few feet from Walt. Making his way back down the hill Gavin stopped, scooped up the camera and carried back with him.
Squatting in front of the man, Gavin reached out and pulled one half closed eyelid up. “Feels good, doesn’t it old man? I knew you’d like it.” Pulling a scalpel from his pocket and removing the protective covering, Gavin stared at Walt knowing that it was time.
Struggling to speak, his words slurred, Walt looked up with unfocused eyes, “My chest….” His face was red and twisted with pain.
Realizing what was happening, Gavin cursed and grabbed Walt by the shoulders and shook him, “Damn it, old man! Don’t you dare die! Only I can decide when you go—do you hear me!”
Minutes later, Gavin stepped over the crumpled body of Walt Mabry, pausing he starred at the ground, Walt’s blood seeping into the dirt had already formed a dark pool on the dry sand. The dog in the cab of the truck still hadn’t given up his mission to save his master, barking and pawing at the window. Only minutes later , he growled low and watched Gavin walk across the dirt road and out of sight.
CHAPTER 25
Now back to where she and Tate had parked the SUV, Emma pulled her hair out of its ponytail.“Well, I can certainly see why people like geocaching! Looking for hidden treasure is a lot of fun, but I do wonder if it really had anything to do with the cases or if it’s just a coincidence.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Tate agreed. “I have a hard time believing that there’s some guy out there stalking cache sites and waiting for a victim to show up, but you will have to admit that it’s pretty strange that Justin’s body was found at the sa
me place his family cached at earlier in the day.”
Emma nodded her agreement, “I’d like to talk to everyone who logged that site in the last week, to see if they found anything strange about the site or if they noticed anyone lurking. I plan to call the geocaching website owner and officially ask him to disclose the names and any other info available on those who logged that site.”
“Good place to start, Em. It’s getting pretty late, how about we save the Parker house for tomorrow morning?”
“Sounds good to me. I could really use a shower. I also want to do some research on the killer’s signature. Maybe there are similar cases on file.”
Tate turned the SUV onto the tree-lined road leading from the lake. “Home it is. While you’re getting a shower I’ll make a couple of my world famous grilled cheese sandwiches.”
Quickly turning away to stare out the passenger side window, Emma wondered if Tate realized that he’d made it sound like they were going to their home, not his home where she was just a temporary visitor. Damn it, Emma, it could have been your home if you weren’t so stubborn. It still could be, but how long would that door remain open?
Breathing deeply, she wasn’t surprised when a heavy sigh pushed past her lips. This was no time for self-recrimination. She was here to help solve the murders, as a friend, nothing more.
Sensing Emma’s mood change, Tate glanced at her but didn’t speak. Her forehead, creased with worry wrinkles, gave the rest of her face a solemn and sad look. Wonder what she’s thinking about.
“Something bothering you? Emma?” No answer. “Earth to Emma!”
Snapping back to the present, Emma turned to face Tate, her cheeks warm and probably three shades brighter. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Just wondering why you look so solemn. What’s on that busy mind of yours?”
Emma gave him a sad half-smile, then frowned. “Nothing important, just daydreaming.” She looked away, fearing that Tate would somehow see through her eyes and into her heart where he would find little pieces of the well-built armor she’d worked so hard to construct around her heart slipping away from the fragile organ.
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