Page 38 of Rangers Unexpected Return

I ignored him.

“We found the circle and nine marks carved into the welcome sign,” I said. “The same detail appears in the killer’s drawing.”

Tate examined the photograph again.

“I’ve seen this.”

“Where?”

He stood and walked toward the filing cabinets.

Unlike Agnes, he didn’t make me fight for the answer.

He opened the bottom drawer and removed a thick folder labeled EAGLE RIVER—HISTORICAL.

“What does the circle mean?” I asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s disappointing.”

“I’ve been sheriff for twenty-six years. That doesn’t mean I was here when the river was formed.”

He carried the folder to his desk and opened it.

Old newspaper articles, town maps, and photographs filled the pages.

He moved through them slowly.

Will stood behind him.

Carson drank his coffee.

I tried not to take it away from him.

Tate stopped on a faded brochure.

A tree stood above a blue river.

Beneath it was a campfire surrounded by nine short flames.

CAMP EAGLE RIVER.

My pulse changed.

“That’s it,” Will said.

Tate removed the brochure from its plastic sleeve.

The paper had yellowed around the edges. Smiling children paddled canoes, rode horses, and stood beside cabins hidden among tall trees.

“When did the camp close?” I asked.

“Almost eighteen years ago.”

“Why?”

“Financial problems. Storm damage. The owners stopped reopening it.”