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“No, I’m done with this part of my life. This thing with Lyssa going missing has been there in every relationship since it happened. But not anymore.”
Lucien reached into his pocket and pulled out Daniel’s check, folded and wrinkled but still valid. He handed it back to him.
“You don’t have to do that,” Daniel muttered.
“Yeah, I kind of do. Whether you want to believe it or not, we all have a Lyssa-type in our past. If you’re on this earth long enough—with any sort of life experience—you’re bound to run into manipulative people. We’ve all known those types—narcissistic, self-absorbed, selfish. It’s time you put this person out of your head for good.”
Inside Beckett’s kitchen,over an assorted array of pizzas, Jade and Birk were fascinated to hear about Daniel’s story.
“The next time you’re that far north with your equipment, Spirit Lake would make a great place to dive for the car,” Jade said to Birk.
“We wouldn’t have the kind of time to dive all those lakes,” Birk declared. “Besides, Claypool could just as easily have driven off into one of those steep canyons before reaching Spirit Lake.”
Across the counter, Beckett nodded toward his brother. “Just because Daniel narrowed it down to Spirit Lake and those three spots doesn’t mean that’s where they are. Given that those two wanted to be alone, I’d say Claypool was in a hurry and got distracted.”
Birk picked up his beer. “Picture it—late at night behind the wheel, a pretty girl at your side and four hundred and twenty-five horsepower under the hood—you take the bend in the road too fast, anxious to get that girl out of her clothes. Within seconds, you’ve left the road. The car’s airborne and sails straight down an embankment, wedges in the trees. Both are probably unconscious.”
“It happened fast,” Beckett muttered. “That Charger could be hanging upside down anywhere along the roadway between Coyote Wells and Spirit Lake.”
“Are you sure there’s no cell phone data to use as a guide?” Birk wanted to know.
“None,” Lucien remarked. “Chief Bonner was very specific about that.”
“I know Bonner,” Birk offered. “He’s a thorough guy, a good cop. His wife’s a little out there, though. Gemma Channing’s her name. She claims to get visions from time to time using her power stones, claims these visions run in the family on her grandmother’s side.”
“Like Jade does, without the power stones, of course,” Kelly piped up from the end of the table. “How cool is that? Maybe we could get this Gemma to help us out. Ask if she can locate the Dodge Charger.”
“I could email her,” Brogan volunteered.
Beckett frowned. “We’d get better results taking a plane up there and flying over the treetops to see if we spot anything.”
“Is that feasible after all this time?” Brogan asked.
“It’s worth a shot,” Birk provided. “Better than waiting for some woman to get the answers from her power stones.”
A lover of all things mystical, Jade was quick to react. She elbowed Birk in the ribs. “Never sell intuition short or anything that gets results. If this Gemma Channing believes her power comes from stones, then what’s the harm in that? Has she helped her husband solve cases? Because if she has, that’s what matters. Results.” She looked around the island counter, going from face to face. “Isn’t that what all of you respect at the end of the day? Someone who gets results. In the end, does it matter how you obtain the answers?”
Brogan held up both hands. “No argument from me.”
“Or me,” Kelly added. “I’m a scientist. I believe in raw data and digging for answers. But some things are unexplainable. Like the fact that Pelican Pointe has a resident ghost. Somebody explain that one.”
Lucien looked over at Birk, then at Beckett. “I get the feeling there are plenty of ghosts haunting this case on Lynley Circle. I’m not able to fully describe how those woods make me feel. It’s spooky back there behind that murder house. Ask Brogan.”
“He’s right. But it makes sense if that’s where the killer ended Trey and Elliott’s life. Don’t you think? If the bodies are buried nearby, it’s like walking through a graveyard. Even in the daytime, the place gave me the creeps. I can’t figure out how the police missed Trey’s bicycle, though.”
“Unless it wasn’t there when they looked,” Beckett offered.
“Happens more often than you’d think,” Birk added. “Did it specifically mention in the files that the police used SAR dogs?”
Lucien shook his head. “Police reports refer to multiple searches. That’s it. No mention they used tracking dogs of any kind.”
“Weird,” Birk mumbled. “Because search dogs should’ve tracked straight toward the barn. Not to mention cadaver dogs should’ve picked up a scent of bodies.”
Brogan’s shoulders slumped. “Are you saying you don’t think the ground-penetrating radar will find anything?”
“I’m saying this entire case is just plain bizarre. Nothing makes sense about it. But because we’re talking about a couple of kids, I’d leave no stone unturned. That means we move in as soon as the cops finish up with the suicide, covering every square inch possible.”
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