Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(84)
Nolan just looked at him. “You’re sure Elaine Hansen never donated a white SUV?”
He smiled. “I’m positive.”
“Thank you for your time.”
Nolan got back into his truck. Why had she lied? And what else had she lied about? Something gnawed at him, a detail he’d meant to follow up on but hadn’t. It hadn’t seemed important until now. And maybe it wasn’t.
He scrolled through his phone and found his list of witnesses in the Kaylin Baird case. He called Maisy Raines.
“Hello?”
“Maisy, this is Detective Hess. You got a minute?”
? ? ?
The cramped lobby smelled of tires, and Sara eyed the clock as she left yet another message for Will Merritt. Why hadn’t he called her back? She’d sent him two urgent emails and left a voice mail, but he still hadn’t responded. Maybe he’d dropped off the grid again.
She checked her watch and cast an impatient glance into the service bay. Her Explorer looked ready to go, but she was still waiting for the paperwork.
Sara sank into a plastic chair and pulled up the article she’d bookmarked from Outside magazine. She clicked Will’s name, hoping to be taken to an alternative email address or maybe a social-media link. Instead, she was taken to a list of his articles: “Big Walls in Big Bend, Mountain Biking Ramps Up, Caves of Central Texas.”
Sara went still. She skimmed the list, which included articles dating back six years.
“Free Soloing in Tennessee.”
Her blood turned cold. She scanned the list again. Big Bend, Central Texas, Tennessee.
“Oh, my God.”
Sara jumped to her feet.
? ? ?
Nolan scanned the cars in the parking lot. He’d expected every member of the task force to have beaten him here, but the lot was almost empty.
His phone beeped, and he looked down to see a text from Talia.
On my way in. Task force mtg nixed.
Yeah, no kidding. Where the hell was everyone? Nolan started to reply, but he got an incoming call from Sara. He picked up.
“Hey, can I call you back?”
“No, listen.” Her voice sounded breathless. “Remember the blogger I told you about?”
“No.”
“Will Merritt. He writes this blog called High Life, and he freelances for Outside magazine.”
“Okay, yeah. What about him?”
“I was going through his archives, Nolan, reading up on caving. Turns out he’s written about dozens of parks in the past six years, including Rocky Shoals in Tennessee plus Big Bend and White Falls in Texas.”
Nolan didn’t say anything.
“Nolan? You there?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bizarre coincidence? I mean, like, too bizarre to even be a coincidence?”
“It’s interesting.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“Six years is a long time. How many blogs and articles has he written?”
“I don’t know. Fifty or sixty that I could find. But three of them feature a park where one or more of these victims was discovered or went missing.”
“Yeah, and fifty-plus don’t. And the West Texas woman didn’t go missing from inside a park. She was near one.”
“Come on. You need to look into this.”
He sighed and checked his watch. “Where are you?” he asked. “It sounds like you’re driving.”
“I’m headed to Springville. I want to show you the notes from my conversation with this guy. Nolan, I think he’s our unsub. He said he was ‘off the grid’ a few days ago, which is why it took him a while to call me back, and now he’s dodging my calls again. I think he might be with Grace!”
“Will Merritt, two t’s?”
“Yes. He has a blog about extreme outdoor sports, and he works freelance for Outside magazine. He fits the profile perfectly, Nolan.”
“I’ll check him out. Send me the dates on those articles.”
“I’ll pull over and do it now. Listen, there’s something else, too. Alex Lovell stopped by my place this morning with a new lead on the drone footage. You remember from the recovery site?”
“What about it?”
“She thinks the drone was launched from private property adjacent to the park. She thinks the property owner could be our unsub, or maybe he knows the guy and gave him access to the property.”
This lead sounded a lot more promising than the blogger.
“You have the address?” Nolan asked.
“I can send it,” Sara said. “A sheriff’s deputy did a drive-by, but as far as I know, no one’s really checked this out.”
“I’ll handle it. How far out are you?”
“I don’t know. Forty-five minutes, maybe.”
“When you get in, go to the police station, all right? I’ll meet you over there.”
“Okay.”
He ended the call.
Sideways, just like he’d thought. He had too much to do to waste his morning waiting around for people, so he got on the highway and called Talia.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Good morning to you, too.”
“How come everyone bagged the meeting?”