Page 5 of Lost Lake
“You should know,” Mina said. “Gabe Irving’s friend, Kenna James, and her four-year-old daughter, Lucy, went missing tonight. They were on their way to see him and should’ve arrived at the inn more than four hours ago, but they never showed.”
Gabe.How hard this must be for him.
They’d worked cases together before. Shared long hours, bad coffee, and an attraction between them they didn’t dare to explore. And now this?
“Is this a coincidence or do you have reason to believe the woman might be Kenna and the car seat her daughter’s?” El asked.
“It’s probably them. Gabe found a VW bus registered to Kenna in a ravine near the lake.”
“That’s bad.”
“Yeah. He’s on his way. If he can ID the body, we need that.” Mina’s tone said this wasn’t optional. “We’re dealing with two potential investigations here. You’ll need some help. I’ll pull Ulrich off his current case and get him out there too.”
A seasoned officer, Detective Burke Ulrich had joined their team when their department received a grant to work cold cases and he wanted to be close to Abby Day, a Lost Lake Locators team member. El would appreciate his help. Investigating a murder and missing child simultaneously required everyone to work this investigation, and he made things happen.
“How do you want to handle forensics?” El asked.
“With a scene exposed to the elements and a missing child, we can’t wait for the state to send someone out. I’ll try to get Sierra Rice from the Veritas Center out here.”
The Veritas Center in Portland. Perfect.Ifthey had the funds to pay for a nationally known private laboratory with experts in all areas of criminal forensics plus state-of-the-art equipment and techniques.
“We can afford that?” El asked.
“No way, but Nolan and his team have a connection to them, and he can hopefully get them to take this case pro bono.”
“What are the odds of that?”
“Their forensic anthropologist has a son and is sympathetic to cases involving children. She can be persuasive, but all the partners have to sign off on pro bono work.”
“Something to pray about then,” El said, surprising herself. She and God had been on a break since Victoria died during El’s rookie year. Not God’s fault. Hers for not being able to let go of the guilt. But this child deserved her every effort, and that included prayer.
“I’ll call as soon as I hear back,” Mina said. “Anything else you need right now?”
“I’ll let you know if something comes up.” She ended their call and strode through the squishy sand to the phone lying too near the lake for comfort.
She photographed it then lifted it. The screen remained dark and water dripped from the case.
Even if the phone still worked, protocol prohibited her from checking for recent calls or texts. It was up to the tech staff to recover information. She bagged and pocketed it.
Nearby, a pink-and-blue squeezable unicorn toy rested close to the water. Even a minor wave could drag it into the water. She also shot pictures of it then slipped it into an evidence bag.
On the dock, her flashlight beam revealed muddy drag marks and boot prints in two sizes.
A car seat sat near the edge. Why was it there?
Had the woman and child been brought there by boat? But if this woman was Gabe’s friend, the van was close enough to walk from. Why use a boat? Maybe they’d find answers when they examined the terrain around the ravine.
In any event, it could explain that the seat was used to keep the child strapped in for safety or to contain her movements. But where had the boat come from and who piloted it? Maybe the dog walker had seen something to clarify things.
She photographed the front of the seat, spotting a small pink sweatshirt tucked inside. Perfect for a K-9 to pick up on the child’s scent and it would also contain DNA and fingerprints. She bagged it carefully and eased around to the seat’s back. A large sticker of Bluey. The sight of the cartoon character punched her in the chest.
A young child, missing. Her job, to find her.
She clenched her hands to keep her emotions in check and crossed the beach to the witness and his black-and-white dog. The dog came to its feet and wiggled.
“Okay to pet him or her?” she asked the man in his late sixties, she guessed.
“Her. Jinx and sure,” the man said, his voice deep and gravelly. “And I’m Curtis Williams.”
