Page 50 of Her Final Hours
After making little progress that morning with Eduardo, who had buttoned up tight, refusing to speak without a lawyer, Noah stepped back to see where Jane Doe had been found. Although statements had been taken from Don Hammond and Frank Rodriguez by county, Noah felt that visiting the area where they found the girl was in order.
The railway was more than accommodating but offered ashort window of opportunity to ride out to the spot as, in daytime hours, Amtrak trains were running.
Seeing Callie’s keen eye for details, Noah had handed over the responsibility of fishing through the boxes provided by Helen Peterson until they could meet up to interview Lucas Blackwood, the camp counselor. That way, they could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, until McKenzie came back on shift.
“Meet me where Stevenson Road intersects with the track, south of Westport,” Don had said an hour earlier.
As Noah sat in his idling Bronco, engrossed in checking his phone and waiting for him to arrive, his attention was abruptly drawn to a specific vehicle that came into view.
A white hi-rail truck.
Its dual-mode capability was evident as it effortlessly transitioned from the road onto the railroad tracks. The truck’s sleek design exuded a sense of purpose with its sturdy frame and rail wheels that hugged the track securely. Noah climbed out, ensuring he locked his door before making his way over to it. The vehicle featured specialized rail wheels mounted on the front and rear axles, allowing it to easily traverse the tracks. Its compact size and truck-style body made it versatile for workers looking to navigate the railroads and intersections efficiently.
Noah leaned on the window frame with a friendly smile, addressing Don. “Mr. Hammond?” he inquired, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. Hammond nodded.
“That’ll be me. Jump in,” he said, gesturing toward the passenger side.
As Noah climbed inside, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the seamless blend of automotive engineering and rail functionality. The interior was clean and well-maintained, with a combination of modern tech and controls within easy reach of the driver’s seat. The vehicle hummed with quiet power.
“Never been in one of these before,” Noah remarked, expressing his fascination. That was one of the perks of his job; it allowed him to immerse himself into so many worlds, even if it was in pursuit of shining light on the darkest regions of society.
Don chuckled; his eyes focused on the tracks ahead. “First time for everything,” he replied, radiating a calm and professional demeanor. With that, the wheels seamlessly aligned with the tracks; they glided forward with a jolt. Noah could feel the subtle change in the vehicle’s dynamics as it adjusted to the terrain. The rhythmic sound of the rail wheels reverberated through the cabin, creating a steady and comforting hum.
“I appreciate you meeting me at such short notice,” Noah said, breaking the silence as they moved along the tracks. He leaned back in his seat, observing the passing scenery, curious about the moments leading up to the girl’s discovery.
Don ran a hand over his brow, the weight of the situation clear in his expression. “Anything I can do to help,” he replied earnestly. “I have grandchildren her age. How is she doing?” Don’s concern for the victim was palpable; his voice filled with empathy.
Noah’s gaze hardened, reflecting the gravity of the situation. “It’s still touch and go. Trauma, you know,” he replied, his tone tinged with determination and sadness. “But we have some of the best working with her.”
Don shook his head in disbelief, his voice carrying a sense of astonishment. “In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like that. Sure, we’ve had people commit suicide on the tracks; even a few bums who are drunk wander onto the tracks, but nothing like that.” The weight of the incident hung heavily.
Noah absorbed his words and their implications. His mind raced with questions and possibilities as he continued to piece together the puzzling case. The passing forest on either side mirrored the suffocating mystery that had enveloped them.
“So, she wasn’t found that far from here?” Noah asked, his gaze shifting to the dense woodland that lined the tracks on either side. He wondered if it held any answers.
Don’s eyes scanned ahead. “About a mile up. Nothing around here, though, for miles. Just forest,” he replied. “That’s what struck me as odd.”
Noah’s curiosity was piqued as he considered the remote location and its role in her being found. It was rural, and though homes could be seen across some of the open fields, they were mainly spread out until they reached Westport. “So, you never saw her step onto the track?” he inquired, hoping to gather more information that hadn’t been collected.
“Oh no, she was already on it,” he explained. “Had it been an Amtrak train, she would have been dead. I figure she came down from Westport Railway Station. It’s several miles north of here. But then when I saw her… yeah, something about it didn’t add up. Covered in blood, barely clothed. She had this deer-in-the-headlights look. You know, like no one was home.”
Noah’s mind raced. The unusual state in which the girl was found had raised numerous questions and theories, none of which they could substantiate, barring the blood that matched the deceased. Noah nodded, acknowledging his observation. “Her body was flooded with a drug that affects what she can remember,” he replied, hinting at a deeper layer of complexity to the case.
Don’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he cast a glance sideways. “You think she did that to herself? I mean, kids today are taking all manner of drugs, and who knows — maybe she bought some bad stuff,” he speculated.
Noah had considered it. “I think it’s all bad,” he replied cryptically, aware of the dark undercurrents that plagued the county. “You know what I mean.”
Don’s gaze returned to the tracks. A few more minutes, andthen he pointed ahead, breaking the momentary silence. “Right up here at mile marker 23,” he said before glancing at his watch. “We don’t have a lot of time; ten minutes max. Better make it quick.”
He slowed the truck. The surroundings felt even more remote, the dense forest closing in on both sides. His anticipation of finding something grew, his focus sharpening as they neared the spot where she was found.
The truck came to a stop with a jolt. Noah hopped out, carrying a bag containing a drone. Don followed in his shadow, relaying what he said to the girl when they approached her.
“I’d say it was about here,” Don murmured, his eyes scanning the surroundings to be sure. “It was evening, so I can’t be entirely sure, but it was close to the marker.” The silence was broken only by the wind and the distant chirping of birds.
“Sure, it’s remote,” Noah commented. The isolation of the location struck a chord with both men. Noah knew that finding tangible evidence in such an environment would be challenging. It was time to rely on the tools at his disposal.
Noah dropped the bag to the ground and pulled out the drone with practiced efficiency. The sleek, state-of-the-art device gleamed in the sunlight. Its propellers whirred to life as Noah powered it up, preparing it for flight.
