Caching Out

by Cheatham, Tammy

  Tate nodded his agreement and flipped the blinker on as he turned the SUV into the courthouse parking lot.

  Taking Emma by the hand, Tate led her up the courthouse steps and into the dispatch area of the department offices. Stopping at the reception desk Tate introduced Emma to Julie Barton. “Julie, I need all staff here thirty minutes before shifts in the morning for a meeting with SSA Gage-Echo. She will be facilitating the meeting to go over a tentative profile for our killer. Martin will be pulling in all available sheriffs department staff as well, so schedule a room that’s large enough to hold us all.”

  “Sure thing, Chief. You want me to put a memo out to the staff now? If I hurry I can get them in mailboxes before the shift change so that everyone is notified.”

  Tate smiled, “Perfect. I appreciate your help. I’ve got a couple things to handle here then we’re going out to help the county with the search for Walt, call on my cell if I’m needed.”

  “You got it, and we’ll hold the fort down here.”

  Driving through the White’s Lake property, Tate and Emma kept an eye out for Walt’s truck. If he had come to the lake he hadn’t bothered to check in at the front desk. Giving up their search inside the lodge proper they began to cruise the many back roads just outside the lodge’s boundaries.

  Turning the SUV onto an unmarked road, Tate slowed the vehicle, dodging the sandy ruts made by other travelers. “This is the area where we find most of the locals who slip down to fish the lake. Keep an eye out for anyone. If Walt came this way chances are someone else was out here too.”

  “Why wouldn’t Walt, or anyone else for that matter, just come through the gate into the lake area?” Emma continued to scan the countryside. “I mean, the roads are better, they have boats and the pier.”

  “The locals slip in because they don’t think it’s right that they have to pay to fish the lake. Martin gets an occasional call for someone fishing without paying, but for the most part the locals fish the lower edge of the lake and stay as far away from the lodge and campgrounds as possible. If he was fishing, Walt would have come this way, he’s local to the core and probably wouldn’t go through the lodge. I sure hope to hell he came to fish and not to search for damned geocaches.”

  Emma kept her eyes trained out the passenger side window. “So the sheriff’s department just turns a blind eye to illegal fishing out here? That doesn’t seem right.”

  “Yeah, I know it’s not by the book, but it’s different here. We stay inside the law on most things, but you also have to take into consideration the demographics here. Small town, large Native American population, hell some of the Natives consider it their birth right to fish any lake in the county or to hunt in any unpopulated area whether it’s actually on the Reservation or not. There’s also a lot of poverty here, you don’t notice so it much inside town but the rural areas are hurting. Jobs are scarce and money’s tight for a lot of people. When you look at all the bad things going on in the world today, catching a few fish from a lake as big as this one just doesn’t seem to be much of a crime.”

  “Stop, Tate! Back up.”

  “What did you see?” Tate asked, braking.

  “Not positive, but I caught a flash of something through the trees about twenty feet back. Could have been a truck or car. God, I hope it’s him.”

  Tate maneuvered the SUV backward to the spot Emma indicated and parked as far off the road as he could before getting out. “Come on, let’s go see who’s down there.”

  A narrow trail not much more than the flattening of grass ran down to where the truck was parked. Emma and Tate followed it down.

  Before reaching the parked vehicle Tate called out, “Hello! This is Police Chief Echo, I need to talk to you for a minute.”

  Tate and Emma watched as two heads popped up over the hood of the truck. Kids.

  The two boys stepped around the truck to face Tate and Emma. The taller of the two explained, “We was just fishing, Chief. Nothing wrong with that.”

  Recognizing both boys, Tate asked, “You seen anyone else out here, Cory?”

  Shaking his head, the shorter boy said, “Naw, we ain’t seen anyone else out here today.”

  Emma asked, “What time did you boys get here?”

  The older of the two answered. “About sun up ma’am. Been right here all day.”

  “Look boys, Walt Mabry’s been missing since yesterday. Half the town’s searching for him. You’re sure you haven’t seen him out here?” Tate asked.

  “We’re sure, Chief. I know Mr. Mabry real good and I’d remember if I’d seen him because he always has his dog in the truck with him.”

  “Either of you have a cell phone?” Tate asked.

  Cory replied, “I do, Chief, and I even got a little signal out here.”

  “That’s good. If you see Walt, King or even a truck that looks like Walt’s, you call 911.” Tate and Emma jogged back to the road, the sun hung low in the spring sky, it’s orange and red rays fading fast. Time was not on their side.

  Slapping a hand against the steering wheel Tate swore. “Damn it, Walt! Where are you?” Turning the SUV around on the narrow road, Tate punched Martin’s number on his cell.

  “Crawley here. You find something Tate?”

  “No sign of Walt out here. We’re headed back to town and should be at the courthouse in about thirty minutes, I take it that none of the volunteers had any luck either.”

  Martin replied, “Nothing. It’s like he just disappeared off the face of the earth. Curtis Weston over at the Pine Ridge Daily did get a hot line set up and he’s got some guys from the VFW manning the phones. So far, there’s been over twenty calls but they were all dead ends.”

  Tate turned to Emma and shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Martin pulled his staff and those on loan from the city back to town as night fell knowing that they would need their rest so that the search could resume the following day. As the men and women came into the station Martin could see the exhaustion and the frustration lining their faces. Tate and Emma arrived back at the courthouse in time to hear Martin giving directions to his officers and the volunteers for the following morning.

  Speaking loudly, Martin said, “The sheriff’s department thanks each one of you for helping with the search today. We will officially resume the search in the morning just after daylight. Any of you volunteers that are available to help can come in and we will assign you a search area for the day. I know that we all hoped to find Walt today and I won’t lie to you about it, each hour that passes lessens our chance of finding him safe and well but we will not give up.”

  When the last of the volunteers left the courthouse, Tate approached Martin, “Looks bad Martin. Your team find anything at Walt’s house that might help?”

  Looking much older than his fifty four years, Martin shook his head, “Not a damn thing. Nothing in the house was disturbed and even though they dusted for prints there wasn’t anything there that we couldn’t account for. Looks like Walt just went out for the day and didn’t come home. Only thing we know for sure is that wherever Walt is, King is with him. Jewel got into town this morning and she stayed at the house all day in case Walt came in. Every time I talked to her today she was a little more upset. She knows that the longer he’s missing, the worse it is and there’s not a damn thing I can do to make it right for her.”

  Tate clamped a hand on Martin’s shoulder, silently supporting his friend.

  Stepping up to Tate’s side, Emma said, “Everyone knows that with each passing hour the chances are lessened that we’ll find Walt and sad as that is if it was his time, then I hope he did have a heart attack. That would be a much better way to go than what would happen if he ran into our caching killer.”

  Martin grimly nodded, “I’ve got to stop over at Walt’s and talk to Jewel before I call it a night. Barb has been over there most of the day keeping her company and she plans to stay the night if Jewel will let her. I’ll see you tomorrow for the briefing.”

  T
wenty minutes later, Martin pulled his patrol car into Walt’s driveway and parked behind Barbara’s car.

  Before he could knock Jewel threw the door open, her eyes red with tears but hopeful. “Did you find my dad? Please tell me that you did.”

  Shaking his head, Martin cleared his throat before saying, “Nothing yet, Jewel. Let’s go inside and I’ll bring you up to speed on the search effort.”

  Barbara stood a few feet behind Jewel in the doorway and she silently moved forward, wrapping an arm around Jewel and leading her to the dining room table before disappearing into the kitchen.

  Taking a seat across from Jewel, Martin softly said, “We’ve called off the search for toni…”

  Jewel jumped up from her chair. “How could you! How could you just stop looking for him? He’s out there somewhere and he’s probably sick or hurt! You can’t just leave him out there all night, he could die!” Storming to the back door of the house she continued, “I’ve got to go find him, I can’t just sit here and wait.”

  Rushing to the young woman’s side, Martin wrapped an arm around her heaving shoulders and pleaded, “Come on, Jewel, have a seat and let’s talk about this for a minute.”

  Shrugging his arm off her shoulder, Jewel turned on him, her eyes wild with rage and fear, “No! I’ve got to find my dad. I’ve got to…”

  Taking her firmly by the shoulders, Martin forced her eyes to his, “Look at me. We start the search back at first light. There’s nothing that we can do in the dark, with a search area as large as this one. I can’t risk the lives of the volunteers by sending them out like that, Jewel.”

  Jewel melted, collapsing in a heap on the floor, her head buried in her hands. Tear-filled eyes looked up at Martin. Sucking in a deep steadying breath, she said, “I’m sorry, Sheriff, it’s just…” her voice cracked and she whispered, “He’s my daddy.”

  Martin took Jewel’s hands in his own larger ones and pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in a tight hug, “I know, sweetie, I know.” Looking over Jewel’s head at Barb standing in the kitchen doorway, Martin nodded before scooping Jewel up in his arms like a child and following Barb down the hall to the bedroom.

  After a quick stop by the diner, Tate and Emma sat on the deck eating burgers from a greasy brown paper bag and watching night fall in the tiny back yard.

  Pulling a paper napkin out of her lap, Emma wiped her mouth.“A penny for your thoughts, Chief Echo.”

  “My thoughts probably aren’t worth a penny tonight, Em. Hell, Walt is missing, probably dead. Martin’s got his hands full trying to keep Jewel from falling apart and somewhere out there…somewhere out there there’s a killer that I haven’t found. I’m tired of chasing my tail on this case, I want him. I want him now.”

  Stuffing her trash into the now empty paper bag, Emma stood, “We’ll find him, it’ll happen. There’s not much more that we can do tonight and I haven’t had a chance to check my computer all day. I’m going to grab a quick shower then take a look at the information that the geocaching site owner promised me.”

  Reaching out as she passed, Tate grabbed her free hand and brought it to his lips pressing a soft kiss to her palm before letting go. He heard the patio door open then close and knew that she had walked away. Muttering he said, “Just let it go, Echo. The wall’s up and there’s no way around it…yet.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Tate and Emma arrived at the courthouse thirty minutes before the morning shift change. Volunteers lined the hallway in the reception area, waiting for their assigned search areas and hoping to find the missing Walt. Nodding to several of the locals, Tate steered Emma toward the briefing room that Julie had reserved for the meeting. For the first time since she’d arrived, Em was in full FBI mode: dark slacks, matching jacket and FBI photo badge clipped at her waist. Her long hair was pulled back and clipped, the mahogany strands hanging sleekly down her slender back. Tate opened the door and followed her into the briefing room. Standing back, he watched her walk to the front of the room. “It’s your show, Em,” he whispered.

  Stepping up to the podium at the front of the room, Emma waited while officers from the sheriff’s department and the city police department filed in and took seats. Taking a deep breath she scanned the room, looking for the Greens.

  “Good morning. My name is Emma Gage-Echo and my title is Supervisory Special Agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” Making eye contact with the two men she’d pegged as Pete and Chad Green she continued, “I’m guessing that some of you saw my picture in yesterday’s paper, but that is not what I’m here to discuss today. I am currently working with Chief Echo and Sheriff Crawley regarding the murders occurring in and around Pine Ridge. My official position with the FBI is Criminal Profiler, and I want to share my tentative impressions of the killer with you.”

  Moving to the front of the podium, she leaned against the metal edge of a desk. “Before I begin, are there any questions?” A hand at the back of the room went up. Here we go, Emma thought. Pointing to the fiftyish man Emma asked, “Officer Green, right? You have a question?” Others in the room turned to look at Pete Green, waiting to see what he would say.

  Nervously pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose Pete Green stammered, “Yeah, I have a question. What are you and the new chief doing to find this killer?” His voice dripped with insinuation. “Hugging in the airport?”

  Emma smiled. So that’s how it is. I’ll play along. Standing she let her eyes drift around the room, making contact with several officers in the crowd before landing on Pete. “Ah, so hugging in the airport is offensive to you, Officer Green?”

  Snickers sounded around the room.

  “Just to please you, Officer Green,” Emma said, “I’m going to address your questions. However, it has absolutely nothing to do with the issue of finding a killer. I’m not sure how the citizens of Pine Ridge welcome friends, but where I come from it’s perfectly acceptable to hug a friend in the airport or anywhere else. I’m also certain that you caught my name. Emma Gage-ECHO, surely you occasionally hug your wife, Officer Green, assuming that you’ve got one that is.”

  Outright laughter from the crowd this time.

  From his post near the door, Tate leaned against the frame, a faint smile on his lips. Green doesn’t know what he stepped in messing with Em, but you can bet there’s going to be some of it left on his shoes.

  Noticing that Pete’s face was now the appropriate shade of red, Emma resumed. “Does anyone else have questions before I continue?” She noted the shaking of heads. “Perfect. We can now move to the real reason that you’ve been called here today. Our killer.” Glancing at Tate she winked, and he nodded his approval.

  “The UnSub is a male, confirmed by ME reports. He’s in his early to mid-thirties and can clearly be classified as a sociopath. His primary hunting ground so far has been in and around White’s Lake Resort and there is a strong indication that he frequents geocaching sites. This UnSub is going to look normal in every way. He’s friendly and most likely maintains normal relationships with friends and family.” Emma stopped speaking when a hand went up at the front of the room. “Yes?”

  A well-built man in a dark brown sheriff’s department uniform stood. “Yes ma’am. You say this psychopath hunts at the lake, but Ms. Parker was killed in town, wouldn’t that change your profile?”

  Smiling Emma explained, “That’s a good question. First of all, Ms. Parker had been at the lake and it has been confirmed that she was searching for geocaches the day of her death, as was the Babcock child. It’s possible that the UnSub followed her back in to town. Secondly this, UnSub is not a psychopath, but rather a sociopath. He’s meticulous in planning these kills, brings his own kill kit and leaves no clues. While both the sociopath and the psychopath are extremely violent, a psychopath would behave more erratically, killing without a specific plan and would most likely leave clues that so far haven’t been left for us. Does that answer your question, officer?”

  At the officer’s s
miling nod, Emma continued to field questions around the room. Knowing that she had this group under control, Tate stepped out and motioned for Martin to follow. Stepping into the central lobby, Tate and Martin greeted the search volunteers and passed out assigned grids for the day’s search.

  “Tate, have you seen today’s paper?” Martin asked.

  “Nope, but tell me that there’s not another picture of my personal life in there today, please.”

  “Nothing on you. The front page has a picture of Walt and King and says that Jewel is offering a five thousand dollar reward for information about her daddy.”

  Whistling through his teeth, Tate said, “That should get the phone lines hopping. Maybe we’ll get a good lead with that much money on the table.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get calls, but I don’t think the news is going to be good when we find Walt. It’s been too long and if he was able, I know Walt would have called Jewel by now. There’s no way that he would have kept King out this long without going home to feed him either. Curtis has volunteers manning the phones in four hour shifts today and he’s going to call either you or me with any leads. Him and Walt has been friends since high school, when they both played on the football team. This is tearing him up.”

  Tate watched Emma walk into the room, her FBI persona still in place. Motioning Tate over, she waited by the door. “I need to talk to you for a minute before we go out on the search team. I think it would be best if Martin joined us too.”

  “Sure. Let’s go into my office.” Crossing the hallway, Emma, Tate and Martin closed the door behind them. “So what’s up?” Martin asked. “You find something, Miss Emma?”

  “Maybe. You know that I got the logs from the geocaching web owner showing everyone who logged caches at the site where Babcock was murdered, all of Parker’s finds, except the one for the day she was murdered, and a detailed roster of finds on the other caches in the county. I did a cross reference and didn’t find that Parker and Babcock had been to any similar cache sites, but a lot of other people had found the same caches as both Parker and Babcock.”