Winston put down his tablet. “Not a bad idea. I’m in a chocolate shake kind of mood. And I could use a cheeseburger.”
Brayden tapped in the number for the office. “Hey Leo, could we get some food service out here in the field? Uh-huh. Sure, we could do that. What do you guys want? Okay. Four deluxe orders, three large fries, one strawberry, and one vanilla. Got it.”
Brayden slid the icon to off. “Leo wants us to head back to the office pronto. But they’re all hungry, too. They want us to pick up the order from Dick’s.”
Winston started the SUV. “Why do they want us back at the office?”
“A big-time game reviewer found a bug in Desolation Zone. Josh needs all hands-on-deck to get out a patch ASAP.”
“What about following Clayton?”
Brayden lifted a shoulder. “I guess they’ll rely on the tracking device to keep tabs on him.”
****
While Josh dealt with his software bug, Skye did what she’d promised Melba and Wanetta. Before taking the ferry back home to Bainbridge for the weekend, she drove out to take a look at the spot where Dave’s Jeep had been found. Promising fresh eyes meant getting familiar with the facts of the case.
She followed Copalis Beach Road, a winding, access blacktop past a campground, a fire station, and a bar, then climbed to the top of a coastal forest where spruce and fir grew thick and plentiful. On the backside of the parking lot, she found the spit of clearing where the Jeep had been left. Hidden from the parking area and the road, it probably made a great make-out spot. It was full of vegetation that could hide lovers who were bent on intimacy.
The moms had called this a cliff, but it was more like a scenic overhang with attitude. She pulled the minivan to a stop in the small clearing and got out, filling her lungs with a mixture of ocean and pine-filled air. Late season blackberries and dewberries hung on the vines. Brambles like devil’s club and salmonberries grew thick and tall along the roadway to the grassy edge.
Starting from scratch meant doing her research before getting to this spot. She’d discovered the area was well known for several Bigfoot sightings, official ones no less, reported to the county sheriff’s office that went all the way back to 1977. Locals had found, and measured, size sixteen footprints in the snow. Authorities had even gathered hair samples over the years and sent them off for testing. Federal agencies confirmed it turned out to be from an unknown source. Or so the legend went.
Standing on the ledge, she heard the wind flutter in the trees and listened to the sound of the waves from the beach below. The soothing rhythm had her looking down at the crooked shoreline dotted with shells and remnants of driftwood. How many people had come to this ribbon of sand for solitude, for a break from their lives to gaze out at the water and study the horizon?
As peaceful as it was, there were certain facts that nagged at her.
Griffiths-Priday State Park had a designated parking lot, a large one with plenty of places to park. Why hadn’t Dave and Lindsey parked there that night? Why leave the Jeep up here in the secluded woods? She thought of the pub she’d passed along the main road and wondered if the couple had stopped there for drinks that night? At twenty, they would have had to use fake IDs to legally drink. Why come all the way out here to do that, when the frat party offered all the available booze they could ever want?
Nothing about this location made any sense.
The certainty of foul play sent a chill through her spine. Without concrete answers, though, she pulled out her cell phone to take pictures of the area for future reference.
When she was done, she strolled back to the minivan at a leisurely pace, taking in the beauty of the area. But as she got ready to leave, the back of her neck tingled. It felt like someone was watching her every move. The feeling was so strong that she looked up and aimed her camera phone at the tops of the trees.
She doubted it was Sasquatch or Bigfoot making an appearance but rather someone with a vested interest in this place, someone who had chosen to keep a sharp eye out for whatever happened here.
The question was why. And what did it mean for Dave and Lindsey?
****
That night, Skye stood at the stove making linguini with scallops and discussed the case with her dad and Lena. While she threw the meal together, she gave them a play by play. “It was eerie out there. I can’t explain it any other way. Not the entire beach. That part seemed perfectly normal. The area’s filled with the usual tourist traps, nice resorts and four-star hotels, plenty of eateries and bars. In fact, within a couple of miles, it’s your typical peaceful seaside setting. It was just that specific spot that gave me the willies.”
Travis bounced his granddaughter on his lap while he waited for dinner. “Wait. Isn’t that the same general vicinity where they had all those Bigfoot sightings back in the 70s?”
“You know your state. Did you know that Grays Harbor County still gets calls about sightings? They find huge footprints around there all the time.”
“Get out,” Lena said.
“I’m not kidding. This afternoon the main thing I came away with is that Dave and Lindsey had no reason to be out there. No college kid would’ve picked this weird place to leave their only ride. The police report said the Jeep was in working order. So who picked them up? When did this guy interact with those kids? Because he certainly didn’t drop them at the airport. See what I mean? It makes no sense to be out there when they could’ve stayed on campus and drank all night or done whatever they wanted to do.”
After plating the linguini, Skye set out the Caesar salad, then settled Sierra into her booster seat. She cut up pieces of chicken mixed in with mac and cheese and set it on the girl’s tray. “It’s just the way you like it.”
“No!” Sierra shouted, pushing the plate away and rubbing her eyes. “I want to play!”
“Nope. This is mealtime, time to eat. See how Pop-Pop is doing it. See how Lena is setting down like a normal person and eating?”
Skye managed to calm the tantrum, then took charge of the toddler moment to get Sierra to settle down enough to eat.
Travis swirled pasta around his fork and offered his bite to a cranky and tired little girl. But Sierra was having none of it.
Lena scooped out a helping of Caesar salad and offered her a piece of lettuce dripping with dressing. That Sierra seemed to like. “Now that you’re talking about it, I remember that case. Two college kids who disappeared after a football game. You know, back in the day, the police thought it was a fraternity prank. It wasn’t until they found the car that they even took it seriously.”
Skye reached over and made Sierra stop playing with her food. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her tonight. She usually gobbles this up. If you don’t want this, I’ll eat it,” Skye said pretending to take her food.
“Mine!” Sierra yelled in her crabby voice, jerking at the plate and refusing to share her chicken.
“She’s a little tired,” Lena explained. “For some reason, she refused to take a nap after lunch.”
“She does that sometimes. So much for leaving behind the terrible twos. Has anyone heard from Zoe?”
Lena shook her head and picked up her wine. “That girl is awash in her newfound freedom. Worrying about her keeps me up at night.”
“Her freshman year at UDub must be exciting. I never thought she’d buckle down in school and get there.”
“For a while she was certain she wanted to be the next Skye Cree,” Travis added with a chuckle. “Lena’s just upset that she chose to live in the dorm rather than commute from Everett.”
“Not upset exactly, more like disappointed. Deep down inside, I’m aware that all incoming freshman want to get away from their parents. After all, I raised two sons. But what I discovered is that bringing up a girl is a lot more worrisome.”
Skye reassuringly patted Lena’s hand. “Zoe can take care of herself. I made sure of that.”
“She absolutely can,” Lena said with a smile. “That girl is as put
together as she could get with a good head on her shoulders.”
It was Travis who tried to steer the conversation back to the case. “So you’re saying the cops refused to jump on the missing persons report?”
“Yeah. I’m old enough to remember when there was a forty-eight-hour waiting period before law enforcement would even take a report. By that time, a killer could’ve taken off to Australia.”
“Or somewhere in the Middle East with no extradition,” Travis prompted. “Have you found any reason that Lindsey and Dave wanted out of Seattle, wanted to leave their lives behind?”
“No. None. And if you could see the area where the Jeep was found, you’d believe like I do that they didn’t disappear on their own. Wait. I took pictures.” She handed off her cell phone. “Maybe you can get an idea from these.”
Travis studied the series of images. “Oh yeah. I’m familiar with the area.”
“How so?”
“Because some strange occurrences have happened out there. Historically.”
“Like what?”
“Hikers finding bodies back in the woods.”
Skye pushed her fork around her plate. “Why am I not even shocked by that anymore?”
“Back in the ’90s, they found a woman’s body there. Turns out, she was from California, the Bay Area, I think. Didn’t ID her though until sometime after 2000.”
“And I suppose they don’t know how she died, right? That’s the thing with these tough cases when you just don’t have a crime scene or no evidence that points to the killer. That’s why I’ve decided to ask an independent lab to retest everything in the Jeep.”
“So the Collins family still have it?” Lena asked in wonder. “That’s unusual.”
“Lucky for us they do. Melba’s other son Brian put it in a storage facility, locked it up where it’s stayed, hoping that one day the police would be interested enough to treat it as evidence. I’ve decided to spend some of the Foundation’s precious resources to get it done.”
Travis pushed his plate back. “Good idea. Would you like us to stay here tonight while Josh is on the Mainland?”
Skye put a hand on her dad’s shoulder. “Thanks. But you guys just got back from a long cross-country trip. I’m sure you’d love to sleep in your own bed tonight for a change. Besides, who’d take care of the horses?”
Lena started clearing the table. “Didn’t you hear? Your dad hired a ranch hand a month before we were married. This guy loves horses almost as much as Travis does, so much that he brought his own with him.”
Skye’s brow furrowed. She sent a frown toward her father. “What’s his name? Did you check out his references?”
Travis rolled his eyes as he got to his feet to help Lena with the dishes. “I’m not senile…yet. I’m perfectly capable of hiring a man to look after the stock. He’s good with them. Did a great job while we were gone, too. His name’s Judd Cawood from Colorado. That’s why if you want us to stay, we’ll spend the night.”
“Go on home, guys. Seriously. I’ve stayed here many nights by myself, especially this past summer when Josh had to work late. Though I’m beginning to resent this new game he’s working on already.”
“Don’t let Josh hear you say that,” Travis cautioned.
“Too late. He already knows how I feel. Because of this stupid game, I can’t tell you how many times he’s had to sleep in the city because he missed the last ferry.”
Travis took his daughter’s shoulders. “You sure you’ll be okay here alone? Are you truly healed in body and spirit from that gunshot wound you took?”
“Oh, Dad, that was almost two years ago. I’m fine. I’ve been a hundred percent for at least a year now, back in fighting shape, in fact. No need to worry about us. Sierra and I will be just fine.”
After seeing Travis and Lena off, Skye put an exhausted Sierra to bed. She called Josh and left a message when she got his voicemail.
With the house quiet, she went back downstairs and stretched out on the sofa in the study they used as a home office. She began going over the details in her head that pertained to Lindsey’s and David’s disappearance. When that didn’t work, she got up and dragged out the whiteboard on rollers they usually kept in a closet and began making notes, attaching their photographs to the top. She transferred the information in the police folder to the board before listing all the pertinent facts about Griffiths-Priday State Park. She then downloaded the pictures she’d taken that afternoon and printed them out on regular white paper, then stuck them to the board. She stood back to take in what she had.
She was in the middle of rearranging the board again when Josh returned her call.
“Got your message. Sorry, I didn’t get back to you sooner, but it’s crazy here.”
“That’s okay. How’s it going with the bug?”
“Slow. But I’m not staying here tonight. I’m taking the last ferry home.”
“Why?”
“Because these guys don’t really need me here looking over their shoulders. They know their jobs better than I do. At this point, my pacing back and forth is just annoying. Don’t you want me to come home?”
Skye crackled with laughter. “Of course I do. I’ll wait up. I’ll be in the study going over the Mathieson / Collins case file. But you’ll have to take a Lyft from the dock because I don’t want to wake up Sierra and take the van out. Our daughter was very cranky tonight, almost too tired to sleep.”
“No problem. Already got it set up. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
After the call ended, Skye stared at the whiteboard again. She had two hours to focus on Lindsey and Dave. But she had a lot of questions running through her brain. “Why Copalis Beach? Why did you two head there that day instead of going to the frat party? Of all the places you could’ve gone, what’s so special about that place? It’s secluded. It’s remote. I get it. Maybe you wanted to be alone. But it’s not exactly the first destination that pops into a college kid’s head. Where exactly did you cross paths with the person who took you? Was it in the park? Or at the stadium, after the game? There were two of you. So how did this guy confront the two of you and get the upper hand? Why didn’t you fight back enough to leave traces of a struggle?”
But the answers were elusive just like earlier at the overhang. She finally gave up and turned on the TV. She fell asleep on the sofa, waiting for Josh to get home.
****
Twenty-five miles or so as the crow flies to the northeast of Bainbridge Island, he sat in his workshop putting together his next murder kit.
Running low on chloroform, he decided to start a new batch of the stuff he’d been refining for more than a decade.
Using his homemade recipe, he slapped on rubber gloves and donned a gas mask. He got down his separation funnel and counted out his glassware containers.
Using bleach, a bag of ice, and pure acetone, which was hard to come by these days, he carefully poured the bleach into the beaker, about a half a liter before adding the ice to keep the bleach at a cool temperature.
During those times when he couldn’t obtain enough acetone, he sometimes had to substitute using methyl ethyl ketone, also known as paint thinner. Ethanol or isopropyl alcohol would do the trick in a pinch, but he’d learned a long time ago that nothing produced a more powerful form of chloroform than acetone.
The ratio of the acetone to bleach had to be perfect. At this point, he added more ice so that no dangerous fumes could form. He set the timer for thirty minutes and waited.
Once the timer dinged, he had to wait for the vapor cloud to completely dissipate before it was safe to touch. Only then, would he pour the unused liquid down the drain to get at the white blueish mixture that was left at the bottom. He took great care to place that blueish mixture into the separation funnel for extraction. It was only then that he was able to bottle his special formula.
To test its potency, he went over to a stack of lined cages. Inside each cage was a different kind of animal he’d captured in the
woods. He picked out a fat raccoon, weighing in at almost fifteen pounds. He exchanged his rubber gloves for a pair of thick welding gloves and picked up a cloth. He flipped up the hinge on the cage and took out the squirming animal, running his gloved hands over its multi-colored coat. While the raccoon continued to struggle, he held the cloth over its mouth, covering its head. It didn’t take long.
His lips curved when the chloroform worked its magic and put an end to the struggle. Satisfied that his formula was as potent as ever, he packed it away in his kit, ready for his next kill.
Five
After consuming two days’ worth of takeout, drinking gallons of coffee and running through two cases of Red Bull to keep themselves going, it was around five o’clock Sunday afternoon that the team finally located the bug. By six o’clock, they’d fixed all the strings of broken code and sent out a new update.
Once again, Desolation Zone would live up to its hype.
Josh thanked his team for working the entire weekend and putting in the long hours, then sent everyone home. “Get some sleep. Take all the time off you need. Don’t come back here until you’re rested.”
But Leo offered to stay and keep tabs on Clayton’s movements. “It’s the beginning of the work week. And since no one had time to check up…I’d like to follow up.”
Josh slapped him on the back. “No need. Get out of here. I mean it. The tracker shows the Audi hasn’t moved out of the garage. I’ve been checking it periodically since he parked it there Friday night. Although I think it’s weird that a guy like that would stay in all weekend.”
“Where’s Skye?”
“She’s downstairs with Judy, putting in their own overtime, in their own way. Reggie already left to go pick up Judy and take her home.”
“They’re working the missing person case from Friday?”
“Yep. Earlier in the day they were making phone calls, trying to track down some of Lindsey’s friends from UDub, then Dave’s. I was about to head down there to see what they’re up to. They’ve been at it since noon.”
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