Page 40 of Trapper Road

Even though he seems open to talking about his investigation, I still try to tread lightly so as not to offend him. “What did you do to look for it?”

He smiles slightly. “I know what you’re thinking: small police department, few resources, how hard could we have really searched?”

I don’t deny it.

“It’s true. We’ve only got five officers in the department, and two are part time, but I know how to ask for help when I need it, and I knew the moment the Larsons called, I was gonna need it. I immediately contacted the SBI — that’s the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation — and the NC center for Missing Persons. We put up roadblocks on all the routes in and out of town, sent out a BOLO across the state for Juliette and an APB on the truck, we had all the speed cameras on the highways and in the big cities monitoring for the car. When that didn’t turn anything up, we used drones to grid search a radius around Gardenia. We cast a wide net and had a lot of leads, but unfortunately, nothing panned out in the end.”

It’s an impressive list, especially given the size of the department. I tell him that. “It sounds like you covered all the bases you could.”

“It wasn’t enough.” There’s a bitterness to his voice. He takes this case, and his failure to resolve it, personally.

I shift in my chair, thinking through what I’ve read in the file. “Is there any way the two witnesses — Willa and Mandy — could have been mistaken about the truck?”

Chief Parks immediately stiffens, his expression darkening slightly. “I’ve known those two girls since they were in diapers. Been going to the same church as them their entire lives. They’re good girls.”

I want to tell him that good girls can lie as easily as bad girls, but it wouldn’t go over well, and I figure it’s best not to piss him off unnecessarily when I still need his help. “Mind if I ask them about it anyway?”

“So long as you get their parents’ permission, be my guest. And before you start thinking you found a hole in my investigation, I’ll have you know that I didn’t just take those two girls’ word for it. I checked their statements as thoroughly as I did anyone else’s. Most everything they said was corroborated by multiple other witnesses.”

“Noted,” I tell him. “Anything else about the case stand out to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t already investigate.”

I nod. “What can you tell me about the Shadow Shack?”

He gives me a quizzical look.

“In Mandy and Willa’s statements, they talk about visiting the Shadow Shack out in the woods earlier in the afternoon Juliette disappeared.”

He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. “They’re talking about the old Milam House. There have been rumors about that place since I was a boy. My generation tended to stay away from it — we always thought it was haunted. You couldn’t even dare one of us to spend ten minutes alone that house. I’m guessing more recent generations are a little more jaded and don’t buy into those old superstitions.”

“Is it common for kids to hang out there?”

He shrugs.

“What about the owners?”

He lets out a whistle. “The Milam family’s got their own problems. That house used to be the crown jewel of their estate going back over a hundred years, probably. Buck Milam Senior — he died about twenty years ago — he had a few dalliances that made probating his estate a nightmare. Heirs coming out of the woodwork with that one. Cause of that, the house’s been tied up in court for generations. Lord knows how much money they’ve wasted yelling at each other in front of a judge.”

The whole story is mind boggling. “And so in the meantime the house just sits out there empty?” I ask, incredulous.

“Yep.” He chuckles. “By the time they get it all squared away, probably won’t be much of anything left for the winner to inherit.”

I shake my head. “Isn’t it a liability to have kids partying on private property like that?”

“Unfortunately, it’s out of our jurisdiction. Technically the house is on county land, and the sheriff seems to think there are more important things to worry about than some old abandoned house in the woods.” From his tone of voice, it’s clear he agrees.

I frown. “So no one seems concerned that kids are going to an abandoned house in the woods to drink and do who knows what else?”

“Look, I can understand your concern, certainly. But there’s also the reality of the matter. Kids are gonna find a place one way or another. When I was a teen, we partied in an old field we called the Island. We cordon off the Milam house, they’ll just go somewhere else.”

To an extent I know he’s right, but it just seems wrong to turn a blind eye on something that could be so potentially dangerous. There’s no way that house can be structurally sound, and I doubt years of clandestine parties have done much to help matters. I can’t imagine knowing my kids were going to a place like that and turning a blind eye.

“So the fact those three girls — Mandy, Willa, and Juliette — went there that day doesn’t raise any red flags?”

“Again, I know how it must look to an outsider. But that’s just the way things are in places like this. When there ain’t much to do, you find your own trouble.”

Arguing with him over this point isn’t going to get me anywhere or endear me to him, so I move on. “Did anyone go out to search the house? See if there were any relevant clues?”

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