Page 27 of The Catcher
Noah’s stomach churned with disgust as he absorbed the implications.
As they were about to leave, Addie said, “Oh, one last thing. The lock of hair found at the scene was a match for the one pulled from the Matthews girl’s brush. That’s her.”
8
One step forward and two steps back came with every investigation.
Experience had taught him that patience was paramount. Nothing was solved overnight. It was a painful process of collecting evidence, eliminating suspects, and disseminating what they knew to other agencies. Keeping everyone in the loop was a must. And that was precisely what Porter had done when obtaining location information from the two teens’ phone companies.
Noah exited his vehicle and was met by Porter. As they ascended the steps into the high school, he fell in step.
Noah’s urgency surged as he entered the school, his footsteps echoing through the corridors.
“We had the company ping Landry’s phone, and it came back from this location,” Porter said as he briefed Noah. “The company sent over the records. There’s been no activity on the phone since the two teens went missing two days ago. We have GPS data, so we should be able todetermine the building or room. The phone actually has IPS technology, which will pinpoint where the device is within the building.”
Noah’s mind raced, absorbing the information as he pressed on, his strides purposeful.
“And the Matthews girl?” Noah inquired.
“Nothing so far on her phone,” Porter replied, his tone mirroring Noah’s urgency.
“What caused the delay in getting the autopsy report?” McKenzie interjected.
“What?”
“Addie said she sent it over to you yesterday.”
“I never saw it.”
“Do you ever check your email?” McKenzie asked.
“As much as you do.”
“Obviously not.”
“How about you focus on your job? I’ll focus on mine.”
“I would if my job didn’t overlap with yours.”
Noah felt the tension rising, the pressure mounting as they navigated through the school’s halls. Time was of the essence, and every second counted in their quest for answers. “Guys!” Noah blurted out, his voice cutting through the frantic exchange.
McKenzie scowled at Porter. No sooner had they arrived when they were greeted by the high school principal, Darren Wright, and a janitor.
“Detectives. Good to see you. You’ll have to forgive the chaos right now. We’re draining the pool over the weekend to do some repairs. “Whatever you need, just let me know,” Wright offered.
McKenzie slapped the principal on the shoulder. “Thank you,” he replied.
Porter wasted no time, leading the way as he followed the trail — using the IPS and GPS data — through a maze of corridors. Their footsteps echoed against the linoleum floors, adding to the tension. They went up a flight of steps, until they stopped outside a classroom door.
Porter tried the handle, finding it locked. “Whose class is this?” he asked, turning to Wright for answers.
“Mitchell Emerson. He’s a social studies teacher,” Wright replied before motioning to the janitor. “Joe, can you open the door.”
Keys jangled as he thumbed through them, then inserted one.
They entered the classroom, Porter leading the way as he used his phone to pinpoint the exact location they were searching for.
“Technology today — wild, isn’t it?” McKenzie remarked. “There was a time when I couldn’t find my keys. Now you can buy those tags from Apple and attach them to keys, and boom, all your nightmares are over. Of course, it relies on knowing where your phone is.”
