“Any information at all. The file is kind of sketchy, what we’ve seen so far.”
Sarah nodded. “The whole thing is sketchy. We had five boys disappear over nearly two years the last time. Now there’s lots of ways to go missing around here, and we couldn’t find a clue. We had search parties out, like now, and never found a thing. Kids run away from home, even here. You know that. They also wander off into the mountains and sometimes we don’t find them. Could have been a lot of things until we started to realize they were all the same physical type. Different in age, but physically similar.” She sighed. “That doesn’t hit you at first.”
“It wouldn’t,” DeeJay agreed. “Not at first.”
“Just after it really sank in what we were dealing with, and that it was happening faster, it all stopped. Then nobody was sure it wasn’t all runaways and accidents until a surveyor for the new resort stumbled on the trophy stash the spring before last.”
“Then you knew,” DeeJay said quietly.
“Then we knew,” Sarah agreed. “What we never expected was that it would start up again after all this time. We figured he’d moved on, or gone to jail on some other offense elsewhere. He wraps his victims in plastic to protect them, so we know we found our missing boys. Now this. People want blood. Be careful.”
Cade spoke. “Gage has been good about trying to establish us.”
“He’s working on it,” Sarah agreed. “But folks are still angry and there’s no telling how they might lash out. Of course, I don’t need to tell you that.” She rose and went to get more coffee, a woman who would be familiar anywhere.
When she returned to the table, she leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “I assume you guys have some training in profiling?”
“For what it’s worth,” DeeJay answered.
Cade watched a smile walk slowly across Sarah Ironheart’s face. “Yeah, for what it’s worth. Not much to go on at first.”
“Not really,” Cade answered. “Not until we’ve got some evidence. The thing about the training is that it makes you alert to things that others might overlook. It’s not like we can walk in and hand you a sketch and description of our perp.”
“Anybody did that, and I’d question his know-how,” she answered. “Okay then. Only two of us in the department apart from Gage know who you really are. The other is Micah Parish. You’ll know him when you see him. Huge guy with Cherokee written all over his face. Former Special Ops. He may be getting up there, but he’s still damn good. Beyond that, nobody knows.”
She paused. “Gage may also tell the former sheriff, Nate Tate. Nobody sneezes in this county without him hearing about it. But right now, I don’t know if Gage will bring him in. He’s an invaluable source about the people around here, though.”
“Then I hope Gage tells him,” DeeJay said.
“Another good source if you have any need to delve into local history is Gage’s wife, Emmaline Dalton. Miss Emma, everyone calls her. Anyway, she’s the librarian and she’s got roots here back to the earliest days, plus she’s made gathering local history and lore her avocation. I’m not sure how she could be of use, but you never know.”
She drained her coffee and stood. “Oh, and if you need horses, my husband raises and trains them. Gideon. I’m sure he could spare a couple of good mounts if you want to go wandering off the roads.”