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Gerald pointed to the woods, where a dozen reporters had gathered with their cameras and satellite equipment. “Assholes. I didn’t say a word about using GPR today to anyone. Somebody needs to shoo them off from here. You want me to do it?”
“I think I should be the one,” Brogan volunteered. She headed in that direction, taking her time getting to the first line of trees. After reaching the edge, Brogan stared down one of the first reporters she recognized from the local TV station. The woman had blonde hair and looked overdressed for a romp in the woods. “You guys aren’t exactly fooling anyone. I know why you’re here. But this is no longer public land. It no longer belongs to the state but to a private Denmark developer who gave us written permission to be here. Not you guys. You’re all trespassing. Please leave.”
“And miss finding bodies buried for twenty years?” the blonde cracked. “No way. None of us intend to move an inch.”
“You will move,” Lucien fired back as he came up behind Brogan. “Where you’re standing could be the burial site for two missing kids. And we won’t know for certain unless you move back an acceptable distance so we can search for them. If I have to, I’ll call your station managers. We’ll see if they agree to you staying put. Because one way or another, you will back up and let us continue searching for these kids.”
The blonde reporter looked skeptical. “If we cooperate, you promise to let us know the minute you find something?”
“We will,” Brogan answered, her voice steady and calm. “But only if you move back and give us room to work—and do it without arguing.”
There was a lot of grumbling. Eventually, each reporter and cameraman carried the equipment down the pathway and set up along the strip of beach.
While Lucien returned to running his machine, Susan joined Brogan on the outcrop that looked out over the ocean. Susan stared at the various journalists who represented an array of media outlets. “Do you know how many cold cases have been solved recently by people who call themselves websleuths? Gerald and I have suddenly found a new interest in the Internet—true crime podcasters who talk about cold cases. That’s all they do is focus on unsolved cases. But we find ourselves truly baffled. Why is it an amateur sleuth can put in the effort, but local law enforcement seems to have their hands tied? It isn’t fair. If not for people like the friends you brought with you today, we’d be back sitting in our living room—no hope in sight.”
Brogan sucked in a breath, angled toward the old barn, studying their newfound friends and their hard work and effort. “Look, Susan, I don’t want you getting your hopes up like that. What we’re doing is a long shot at best. Those reporters may have high hopes of leaving today with a big breaking news story. But it isn’t the reality of the situation.”
“No one’s more aware of that than me. But at least you and your friends are doingsomething. That’s better than the last twenty years of nothing.”
Brogan squeezed Susan’s hand. “Come on. It’s almost time for these guys to take a break. Let’s concentrate on getting through this by doing the little things until they finish.”
The men broke for lunch as the warm September sun streaked through the trees, light flittering over the folding tables Brogan had set up with food and cold drinks. The men guzzled water before grabbing ham and cheese sandwiches.
Lucien suggested that Beckett recheck all the data from the morning’s ground search.
“The field is clear. The barn’s clear,” Beckett emphasized. “Going over it again won’t change the results. We have to hope those kids are out there in the woods. Otherwise, we’re coming up empty.”
“What if they’re buried deeper than five feet?” Gerald asked.
Birk shook his head. “Think of it this way. You’ve just committed a double murder. A little boy escaped and ran outside. You had to go chasing after him. If that isn’t bad enough, you spot a witness. Now you’re chasing two kids down instead of one. You’re running around outside to a field. Let’s say the killer does manage to overtake them where he—”
“We get the scenario,” Jade interrupted, not letting Birk finish his account of the dire situation involving the kids. “What Birk is trying to convey is that the killer probably didn’t have much time to dig a hole deeper than five feet.”
Gerald nodded. “Ah. Yeah. That makes sense. Okay. Then you’re moving on to the woods?”
Birk finished off his sandwich and bobbed his head toward the trees. “It’s the most likely place to hide bodies. But before we start the GPR, we’re letting the dogs—Brody and Journey—take a turn through the woods to see if they hit on anything.”
“Trained cadaver dogs,” Lucien explained. “Keep in mind this is a very old forest, almost ancient. Native Americans have been living on this land for centuries. We expect the dogs to hit on several areas of interest. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. We’ll cover it all with GPR.”
With Trey’s parents satisfied, the men got back to work.
The dogs hit on a dozen areas. The men went over the ground again and again. But despite their efforts, searching the woods that afternoon was as disappointing as the morning. They found broken shards of pottery and a stretch of dirt where someone had buried animal bones in a shallow pit. They even discovered a line of geological rock formations that created a small-scale fault line. But there were no bodies buried beneath the trees.
As Beckett and Birk packed up their gear, Gerald approached the trailer they were loading. He reached his hand out in appreciation. “Thanks for showing up today and settling that for us. All these years, we wondered. Now we know for certain Trey isn’t out here.”
“I wish we could’ve given you a better result,” Beckett said and meant it. “We lost our sister to a killer. We know exactly how frustrated you feel right now.”
“We won’t give up,” Birk added, bobbing his head toward Lucien, who stood a few feet away. “And he won’t either. All of us are committed to finding out what happened that morning. That includes finding your son and Elliott Dolworth. Kids aren’t supposed to vanish into thin air.”
“Thanks for that,” Gerald noted. “Susan and I plan to continue to get Trey’s name out there. Because of Lucien and Brogan, we have a renewed sense of purpose.”
Beckett nodded. “That’s what it takes. Keep that sense of resolve.”
“Keep talking about the case to as many people who will listen,” Lucien suggested. “We’re not finished, not by a long shot. Everything that happened today means that we can cross off one location.”
“One location,” Brogan pressed. “We’re just getting started.”
“But where else do you look?” Susan wondered. “It’s like throwing darts at a map. And after all these years, we still don’t know who the real killer is.”
