Part 9 (1/2)
”And you're the best tracker in the area, or so I'm told. Who better to find them?” She folded up the map she was studying and pulled out the one from NRCS. Hopefully she'd be able to combine two tasks and get some soil samples while they were trailing down these two.
”And when we do find them?”
When, she noted, not if. ”Then I'll have a few questions to ask them.”
”Sounds like a stupid idea to me. You can't believe one of these guys dumped those bodies. Who are they going to come in contact with, living the way they do? Locals and tourists.” He slowed, and turned right onto an unmaintained dirt road. Another logging road? ”If there had been locals and tourists disappearing from the area, don't you think law enforcement would have heard about it?”
His reasoning was sound, as far as it went. She looked out the window, noting the way the trees crowded the road. ”If they're living in the forest most of the time, they might have seen something; ever think of that?”
”If they did, they won't want to talk about it.” He eased the Trailblazer to the side of the narrow road and turned off the ignition. ”These sorts live the way they do for a reason. They aren't your typical Joe Citizen. And they probably aren't going to like cops.”
She gave him a blinding smile. ”I'm not exactly a cop. And I'm very persuasive.” Getting out of the vehicle, she stopped for a moment to shoulder the pack she'd brought.
Sharper shrugged into his own before rounding the front of the car and joining her. ”Listen.”
His voice stopped her as she was about to plunge into the forest. Quizzically, she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. His uneasy expression piqued her interest. But his words dampened it even more quickly. ”About last time. When I found you at my place . . .”
Her stomach gave a quick violent twist. ”Forget it.” There was no way she was going any further down that road with him. She turned to scan the area, saw what was likely an abandoned logging trail leading into the forest. ”I've got old DMV photos of both the men we're looking for. Even considering the aging process, I'm pretty sure I'll recognize them if we find them.”
”And what're you going to do then, shoot them?” He lifted a derisive brow at her pointed look. ”Think I can't tell when someone's carrying? Lower back, under your s.h.i.+rt.”
Cait eyed him more carefully. Special ops, she reminded herself. It wouldn't do to forget that training of his. ”Behave yourself and I won't be tempted to pull my weapon.”
He snorted, and brushed by her to take the lead. ”You ever pull a gun on me, Slim, better be prepared to use it. You won't get a second chance.”
His tone held that c.o.c.ky arrogance she'd so quickly grown to loathe.
Trouble was, she was pretty sure that arrogance was well deserved.
Cait wasn't sure how many miles they covered before they happened upon another person. At least three, by her estimation. And he appeared to be a hiker. At least she didn't see a campsite in the vicinity.
The man raised a hand in a halfhearted wave and would have gone by if Cait hadn't greeted him. ”Hi. Mind if I ask you a couple questions?”
The stranger turned his head. It looked as though a refusal was on his lips. She noted the instant it turned to something else. She squelched the instinctive flicker of distaste. A good investigator used whatever tool was available to do her job. And that's what her looks had always been, a tool. If they could help her in the course of an investigation, she was ruthless about using them. The same way a big brawny cop used his bulk to intimidate.
So she mustered an easy smile and closed the distance between them, pulling the ID she'd been issued by Andrews from where it was clipped to a strap on her pack. ”Cait Fleming. Consultant for the Lane County Sheriff's Department.” She flashed the ID, but the man barely glanced at it.
”Doug Gates.” He looked at Sharper long enough to give him a nod before returning his gaze to Cait.
”I'm looking for a couple of men who might be in the vicinity.” She slipped out of the pack to remove the pictures and handed them to him. ”Have you seen either of them around?”
Gates peered at the pictures for a few moments, shook his head. Giving them back, he said, ”I've only been in the area since yesterday. My family is camping about a mile west of here. My wife and two teenage daughters.” His face took on a pained expression. ”I needed a break, you know? Felt like I was drowning in an estrogen pool.”
Ignoring Sharper's sound of sympathy behind her, Cait asked, ”Pretty spot. What made you choose it? Are you familiar with the area?”
”Oh sure, been here plenty of times. I'm from Salem but grew up in Springfield. Every vacation I can recall when I was a kid involved camping.” He sent an aggrieved look in the direction of his camp. ”Don't remember b.i.t.c.hing the whole time about it, either.”
”Guess it takes a lot more these days to keep kids entertained.”
But her words seemed lost on him. The man's eyes had gone wide behind his dark-framed gla.s.ses. ”You're here about those bones they pulled out of Castle Rock, aren't you? I saw it on the news the other day.”
”We're interested in talking to everyone who might have been in the area.”
Gates grew more animated. Small wonder. The prospect of murder never failed to intrigue the general public. ”My wife tried to talk me into going somewhere else after we saw that. 'It's not safe,' she said. I told her, 'Cops are going to be all over that area. What could be safer?' ” He paused, as if awaiting her agreement.
”You should be safe enough if you take normal precautions. Enjoy your vacation.”
As Gates continued on his way, Cait gave the pictures to Sharper and took a moment to secure her ID on the strap of her pack again. He glanced at them before handing them back to her, his face impa.s.sive.
”Driver's license photos aren't the best likenesses to go off of. Especially ones as out of date as these.” He started walking again in the direction they'd been heading when they'd met up with Gates.
Interest hummed in her veins. ”Maybe not. But you recognized them, didn't you? At least one of them.” She'd identified the infinitesimal flicker in his gaze when he looked at the second photo. He knew the guy. Even if he'd claimed not to when she'd mentioned their names.
”What makes you say that?”
Cait grabbed his arm to halt him. And it irritated her to note that he stopped only because he chose to, not because her action slowed him appreciably. ”I could tell. Quit making everything so d.a.m.n difficult. Tell me how you know this guy.” She held up the second photo again. The one he'd hesitated over.
”I don't know him.” He stepped easily around the pile of moss-covered rocks, his gait swift and sure. ”But I've seen him before.”
”The second one?” she pressed. ”Lockwood?”
”We haven't been formally introduced,” Sharper returned testily. ”He's usually around the area. Sometimes I'll see him over the course of the summer and fall a couple times. He's not always fussy about where he sets up camp.”
Cait dodged the low-hanging branch of the fir in front of her. ”Meaning you've found him on your property?”
Sharper turned to fix her with a look. ”Trespa.s.sers can be a pain in the a.s.s.” His meaning was clear enough. He hadn't yet forgiven her uninvited visit to his land. ”Campfires can get out of control, and I don't open the area to hunters, either. But people don't always know they've left the forest and pa.s.sed over onto private property. Once they're told they're usually good about moving on.”
”And you've moved Lockwood on before?”
”Once. A couple years ago. You're wasting your time. He's just the type of guy who wants to be left the h.e.l.l alone.”
And Sharper, Cait reflected as she slipped the photos in the zippered compartment of her pack, sounded as if he understood that desire. ”These areas you've seen him in. Are they around here?”
He stared at her for a moment, his whiskey-colored eyes narrowed in annoyance. ”Like I say, it's a waste-”
”It's less of a waste of time if we have specific places to look than if we just canva.s.s this entire part of the forest,” she pointed out. ”Of course, maybe you've decided you'd rather spend time with me than with your business.” She sent him an innocent smile, one he returned with a glower.
”There are a few specific places I can think of.”
Spying a large flat rock, Cait halted. ”Take a look at this.” By the time he'd turned and come back to her she had the soil map spread out before her. ”These areas I've marked with red are in the same general vicinity of our location, right?”
He bent down to study the map for a moment. ”Within a few miles anyway.”
”Good.” She folded the paper back up and shoved it into her pack. ”I'll want to get soil samples from those places as we come upon them.”
When she was ready to move out again, he remained still. ”Because of the sulfur. You said you found sulfur on the bones.”