Page 34 of Her Final Hours
“We ran with that composite and got thousands of leads. We checked known offenders, looking for a blue truck with a light bar on the top that matched the one you described.”
“Were there any persons of interest, people that you were focused on that you felt could be responsible?” Noah asked.
Helen nodded, taking back the suspect composite. “Three. Caleb Mitchell, a taxi driver in High Peaks, then there was Adrian Lopez, a landscaper who was eventually arrested for abduction, rape, and murder of multiple women in the area; the youngest was fourteen. He was the most promising, owning a blue truck that matched your description. He was operating at the same time when Payton went missing, and had done work at several of the missing girls’ homes. However, he died of cancer in prison before we could interview him. His truck gave us nothing.Some in law enforcement still believe it was him, though. The third was Lucas Blackwood, a camp counselor.”
The mention of a camp counselor caught his attention, reminding him of Callie’s connection with the missing girls.
“So you knew about the connection?”
“Of course, we didn’t have any evidence besides rumors, and the district attorney wouldn’t drag him into court without a solid case. So we put him under surveillance for months. Nothing came of it. Clean as a whistle. Not even a visit to an adult website.”
“What was the accusation against him?”
“He was a little too friendly with some of the girls. He’d met all the girls at one time or another.”
“He still working at the camp?”
“I believe so. He was a young man when I knew him.”
“You have their details?”
“I’ve got a hell of a lot more than that. Hold that thought.” She got up and walked out, still talking, her voice rising in volume so he could hear. “There were a lot of campers that took camcorder video during their stay. We ran IDs and questioned everyone. Let me get the boxes for you. You can take them back. It will take you a while to fish through them.”
The kettle whistled again; its shrill sound cut through the air as Noah prepared for what would become a long night of delving into the depths of the past once more.
12
Tuesday, March 20, 9:10 a.m.
He had countless reasons to postpone, but Maddie said it was urgent. Inside High Peaks Diner, Noah sat at a booth, anxiously waiting for her. The lack of sleep from the previous night’s intense review of the missing women’s files weighed heavily on him. Fortunately, the caffeine from the first cup of coffee started kicking in.
He took a deep breath, soaking in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint scent of bacon and eggs from the kitchen. Patrons of all ages occupied the diner, creating a diverse atmosphere.
Couples sat close together, enjoying their morning roast, while single senior citizens quietly read the newspaper. The sound of light chatter and the clinking of cutlery blended with the backdrop of a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall behind the counter. Although inaudible, the news on the screenhighlighted an approaching snowstorm, urging people to take precautions and gather supplies.
The meteorologist pointed to areas in High Peaks, locations that had already seen a good dumping of snow. Plows were getting ready to work through the night, and stores and homeowners were making last-minute plans to cope.
Nora Masterson, a waitress Noah recognized from high school, approached the table. With a friendly smile, she asked, “More coffee?” He nodded, and Nora promptly refilled the cup. As she poured, she said, “Natalie Ashford was in last week asking about you.”
“She was?”
Nora nodded.
Intrigued, Noah inquired, “What did she want to know?”
Nora replied, “Mostly general things. She asked about Lena.” After Lena had passed away under mysterious circumstances, initially believed to be an accident but potentially a murder, theAdirondack Daily Newshad run a few stories that had only added fuel to the flames. In fact, he’d had to go down to the newspaper and speak with Maggie Coleman. She came to discover that someone had snuck the articles in, articles that were written by none other than Carl McNeal, a cocky reporter from the Big Apple who had arrived at the newspaper only a few weeks before Lena’s death.
Nora continued, “I might add, I never had the chance to offer my condolences. Lena used to come in here a lot. She will be missed. Any leads on her death?”
Noah shook his head, indicating there hadn’t been any significant breakthroughs. He certainly didn’t want to get into it with someone who earned tips by flapping her lips. Just then, Maddie entered the diner, shaking off snow from her coat. Making a beeline for Noah, she slipped into the booth.
“Can I get you anything, hon?” Nora asked.
She didn’t even glance at her. “Just coffee.”
Noah saw Nora raise an eyebrow as she filled the cup and then walked away. He studied his sister, noticing her disheveled appearance with dark circles under her eyes. Her usual makeup was absent. Concerned, he asked, “You’re not working today?”
Taking a moment to gather herself, Maddie shook her head. “Taking time off.”
