Page 40 of Lost Lake
“Hopefully the ME will get a fingerprint match, and then Hayden’s deep dive will give us the other details we need.”
“Right. Tell him to look at electronics, too. There’s no phone, no electronic devices at all, in the house. No network connection either. If we don’t find anything here, have him check libraryrecords or whether Mason used a computer at a friend’s place nearby.”
She started searching her side of the truck, bagging the mail for Gabe’s team to sort through later. In the center console, a pair of binoculars peeked out from beneath empty candy bar wrappers.
“What was he watching?” she asked, more to herself than to Gabe.
“Or who?”
Gabe’s ominous tone settled a cold feeling low in her stomach, but she kept going. She bagged the binoculars, set them on the torn seat, and continued digging. A half-eaten chocolate bar stuck to her fingers, and she shook it loose. “This guy has never met a trash can in his life.”
“Got something.” Gabe straightened from the passenger-side floor, holding up a brown leather gadget bag. He unzipped it and lifted out a camera. “Thirty-five millimeter. Top brand. This wasn’t cheap.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Any film in it?”
He turned it over, studying it. “Yes, with sixteen frames shot.”
“We need to get this to Sierra ASAP to have the images developed.”
“Is she heading back to Portland today?”
“Doubt it. I can’t see them finishing both the lake scene and this one today.”
Gabe’s expression sharpened. “I know your department is stretched thin with the murder, but we can’t afford to sit on this. Not with a little girl still missing.”
Victoria’s face appeared in El’s mind. The photo her parents had provided, that chubby-cheeked smile, her innocent blue eyes. Without warning, El’s brain jumped the track to herparents, her gut twisting at the raw anger on their faces. The blame. The indignity of being told she had no right to be there.
“El.” Gabe’s voice was close, steady, and insistent. “You with me?”
She blinked back the familiar ache. “I’m fine. You’re right.”
Her phone rang, the call from Ulrich. It must be important if he was calling from the boathouse instead of waiting for her to join him again. She answered immediately. “You’re on speaker with Gabe unless you have sensitive information.”
“You decide if it’s sensitive. It’s about the boat we think the killer used.”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s been found tied to the dock at one of those pricey vacation homes across the lake.”
“Why leave a stolen boat at someone’s house?” she asked.
“Place belongs to one of those summer-only families. He must’ve thought it wouldn’t be found until the family showed up for the summer. What he didn’t know was, they had a caregiver who checked on the property every two weeks. He found the boat and called it in.”
“And you confirmed it belonged to Mason?”
“They found boat cushions labeledProperty of H. H. Mason. Boat registration is current and in his name.”
“It’s urgent to get Sierra’s team to process the boat for prints and DNA,” she said.“I want you to take charge of the boathouse scene.”
“You got it!”
She ended the call and took one last look across the cab. “Bag the camera. We’ll get it to Sierra to include in her afternoon lab shipment, and then we’ll head straight to Kenna’s place.”
She didn’t wait for his agreement but turned and stepped away from the truck, breathing deep and fighting off her memories. Her worry for Lucy.
Please. Please don’t let this investigation end like Victoria’s.
9
