“Sit.” I pointed to the chair, and Young slid into it. “What doesn’t feel right?”
“I don’t think he could’ve hiked out of there. We put officers at all the nearby trailheads, and he didn’t come out at any of them. He either lives out there, or he had another mode of transportation.”
Her thoughts were exactly what my scattered brain had been struggling to put together. “I agree. So, what’d you find?”
“Horse poop.”
I raised a brow in question.
“That, and some tracks. I think whoever did this got out there on horseback. Maybe he saw her, and it just flipped some switch.”
“An opportunistic offender.”
“Yes.”
I’d been thinking the same thing. This didn’t fit the modus operandi of someone who stalked their victims. This was a crime of opportunity. It didn’t make it any less dangerous, but it was good news for Cammie. “So, where do we go from here?”
Young blinked at me a few times. “Don’t you want to tell me?”
“You’re the one who took the initiative to go out there on your own time to investigate. And even if you could’ve done it safer, I appreciate you going above and beyond.”
She straightened in her chair a fraction. “Thank you. I really love this job, and I want to excel at it.”
“You’re getting there.” I met her gaze to hammer my point home. “But that means you have to be responsible.”
“I promise, no more going off on my own.”
“Good. Now, tell me what’s next.”
She was quiet for a moment, putting together pieces in her mind. “Two things: I’ll ask around on the reservation, see if anyone has seen a single guy that fits our description riding alone. We should do the same around town. But I also think we should head out to The Trading Post. It’s not too far down the highway from the lake, and they could’ve had someone come by who fits.”
I pushed back from my desk. “I think we need to hold off on putting the word out in town or on the reservation. I don’t want to start a panic or people looking at everyone as potential violent attackers. But I think The Trading Post is a great idea.”
“I didn’t think about the panic piece of things.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. I’ve learned my lessons the hard way. A huge part of this job is making people feel safe. That means being careful about what we share and how we share it.”
Young followed me out the door. “What about at The Trading Post? That’s gossip central.”
She wasn’t wrong there. The Trading Post was just what it sounded like and more. It was a place where people could exchange goods, but there was also a general store of sorts inside, and a small bank of mailboxes for people who lived way out of town. Basic groceries and hardware supplies. There was even a small farmer’s market on the weekends during the spring and summer. It was so far out of town that it was frequented mostly by those who lived out that way. And it catered to those who liked to stay off the grid.
“We’re going to tread carefully.” I led the way through the desks in the main room, passing the same bench my family had waited on all of those years ago. This time when I passed it, Everly’s eleven-year-old face flashed in my mind more clearly than it had in years. The pain ravaging it struck like a whip. God, I was an asshole. So focused on my family’s pain and mine, mixed with a healthy dose of guilt, that I couldn’t see her clearly.
I hadn’t wanted to if I were honest. I hadn’t wanted to think about what she and her family might have been going through. I’d wanted to cast them all into the darkness along with her father.
I beeped the locks on my SUV, and Young and I climbed in. On the thirty-minute drive out to The Trading Post, I updated her on the latest reports. There hadn’t been a hell of a lot so far. Unfortunately, Cammie hadn’t scratched her attacker, so there was no DNA under her nails. And there simply hadn’t been much forensic evidence to find.
I pulled into the dusty lot of The Post. There was an older truck parked behind the store and a few other vehicles in front, but it looked quiet enough that we might have a shot at real conversation with the owner. I glanced over at Young. “We go in easy. Friendly.”
She gave me a sharkish grin. “I can be friendly.”
“God help us,” I muttered.
“What? I can.”
I slid out of the SUV, Young following suit, and headed towards the store. I passed a couple of trucks with stickers showing intertwined snakes. One with a makeshift license plate that claimed the vehicle belonged to a Sovereign Citizen. Young’s brows rose. I shook my head. We weren’t after traffic violations today.
I held the door open for Young. She passed, giving me a smirk. “Such a gentleman.”