ONCE LOST

by Blake Pierce

  “Not yet,” Sinard said. “Since they were two years apart, they may not have known each other well, or even at all. And right now we don’t have any reason to think that Camryn knew Holly Struthers either.”

  Riley kept looking around, her head full of unanswered questions. For example,

  since Camryn was a local girl, why she wasn’t living with her family? She must have moved into this apartment for a reason.

  “Who reported her missing?” Riley asked Sinard.

  “Her parents,” Sinard said. “She’d missed work at a restaurant for a couple of days. When the manager couldn’t reach her by her cell phone, he called her parents to ask what was wrong. They got worried, and so they called me.”

  Officer Laird had opened the girl’s laptop computer.

  He said to the others, “Her computer’s locked. Since we don’t know the password, we’ll have to turn it over to our tech guys.”

  “Let’s do that,” Chief Sinard said. “Not that it will probably do any good. We didn’t find anything suspicious in the other girls’ emails or social messaging. My guess is that we won’t be able to track down her cell phone either. The other girls’ phones seemed to have disappeared—maybe destroyed by their captor.”

  Chief Sinard sighed.

  He said, “Of course, we don’t know for sure that Camryn Mays is in any danger, but …”

  His voice trailed off doubtfully.

  Riley wished she had something reassuring to say to him.

  As she stood looking around the room, that vague, familiar feeling of hers started to become clearer.

  At last she was able to put a name to it.

  Freedom.

  Yes, that was what Riley had felt all those years ago when she had gotten away from home and moved into an apartment of her own.

  It had been wonderful and intoxicating to be on her own for the first time in her life.

  The girl who lived here had felt the same thing—a giddy sense of freedom, of a whole future full of possibilities.

  She was also full of hope.

  Or at least she had been until …

  Riley tried not to imagine that Camryn Mays had met the same fate as Katy and Holly.

  But the hope that Riley sensed in the air here was hardly contagious.

  She’d seen too much of the world’s evil and darkness to get her own hopes up.

  Anyway, she felt sure that she and her colleagues weren’t going to find any clues here.

  She said to Chief Sinard, “Let’s go talk to the girl’s parents.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  As she drove, Jenn was wondering why Camryn’s disappearance especially troubled her. She was following behind Chief Sinard’s vehicle to the Mays family home. In the passenger’s seat beside her, Riley was quiet, obviously considering questions of her own.

  Of course, they hadn’t yet determined whether Camryn Mays was even a victim. It was still entirely possible that she’d simply wandered off and might show up at any time.

  So why was this girl’s disappearance pushing her buttons?

  Could it be because Camryn was African-American, like her?

  Jenn hated to think that might be a reason. All victims ought to be equal and alike as far as she was concerned. It was her job to see things that way.

  And if the worst had happened, like it had with Katy and Holly, it obviously wouldn’t have had anything to do with race.

  Jenn remembered something that Riley had said about Angier.

  “Towns like this give me the creeps.”

  Jenn had been feeling much the same way, although perhaps for different reasons. Even now as she drove, she didn’t spot a single driver or pedestrian of color. Angier seemed almost eerie in its lack of diversity.

  And she couldn’t deny that she’d felt an especially painful twinge back at Camryn’s apartment.

  Jenn had sensed something disturbing in the air—a palpable feeling of isolation.

  The poor girl must feel so alone in this town, Jenn thought.

  That’s what bothered her when she thought about Camryn, not race specifically but the loneliness it must have caused her. Even though Jenn had grown up in much more diverse environments, she knew that feeling well from personal experience.

  Jenn sternly told herself to put these feelings aside. After all, they had nothing to do with the matter at hand.

  Jenn parked their car behind Chief Sinard’s vehicle in front of the Mays residence in a modest, working-class neighborhood. At first glance, everything looked similar to the neighborhood where Katy Philbin had lived—the same streets with large trees, well-kept bungalows, perfect lawns.

  And yet everything struck Jenn as so …

  What was the word she was looking for?

  Little, she realized.

  This area was the same as the rest of the town, but in miniature—almost like a model or a toy. This working-class neighborhood was markedly less prosperous than other parts of Angier. But even so, its residents made the most of what little they had. And they were obviously proud of what they had accomplished in life.

  Jenn and Riley met Chief Sinard as they walked toward the house. Sinard knocked on the door, where they were greeted by an African-American woman wearing a white blouse and a nametag that said LYLA MAYS. The woman looked worried—although from the deep lines on her face, Jenn guessed that worry was chronic, an inescapable part of her everyday life.

  Chief Sinard introduced himself and Riley and Jenn. Lyla nervously invited them inside and introduced them to her husband, Trent, who was wearing a blue-gray jumpsuit.

  The couple invited their visitors to sit down in a small but cozy living room. Jenn noticed that Chief Sinard chose the chair that was farthest away. She guessed that he wanted to leave Riley and her free to ask questions.

  As Riley explained who they were and why they were here with Chief Sinard, Jenn looked around the living room. On the walls, she saw plenty of family pictures that had been taken over many years. There were images of Camryn at many different ages, and also an older boy—Camryn’s brother, Jenn was pretty sure.

  She observed that Trent Mays kept looking at his watch. He seemed very anxious about the time. She wondered what could possibly preoccupy him more than his own daughter’s disappearance.

  Jenn asked the couple, “May I ask what the two of you do for a living?”

  Trent said, “I work as a janitor over in City Hall.”

  “I’m a clerk at the supermarket,” Lyla said. “Been working there for twenty years.”

  Lyla sounded proud of her job.

  Trent looked at his watch again, and Jenn was finally able to guess why.

  Judging from their clothes, both Lyla and Trent had come home hurriedly from work. She thought it likely that Trent’s employers had frowned upon his leaving in the middle of his shift. Maybe both of them were under pressure to get back to work.

  It was clear that life wasn’t easy for the Mays family. But at least Trent and Lyla were together, and from what she could tell, they were devoted parents.

  Jenn found herself flashing back to her own broken childhood—a depressive, alcoholic mother who’d disappeared when she was little, a father who’d wandered off to start another family, leaving Jenn to spend much of her youth in foster homes. When she’d tried to escape into the world of ballet, her dreams had gone sour.

  By comparison, Camryn seemed to have lived a perfect life.

  So lucky, she thought.

  But had this girl’s luck had run out in the most terrible way imaginable?

  Riley said, “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if we may. When was the last time you saw your daughter?”

  Lyla and Trent exchanged a sad look.

  Trent said, “Quite some time, I’m afraid. A couple weeks or more.”

  Riley looked surprised. She said, “But she lives right here in the same town.”

  Jenn couldn’t help but cringe a little. Riley’s comment struck her as slightly insensitive.
Even back at Camryn’s apartment, Jenn had sensed that the girl was somewhat distant from her family—although probably not outright estranged. Camryn had gone to considerable trouble to carve out a separate life for herself, if only in another part of the same town.

  Lyla shrugged a little.

  “She’s just got so much to do, I guess,” she said. “With work and school and such, she just doesn’t have any time for …”

  Lyla stopped herself from finishing her sentence. Trent patted her hand sympathetically.

  Jenn detected sadness in Lyla’s tone—and also a bit of resentment. She sensed that Trent felt the same way.

  The family’s story was becoming clearer to Jenn. This couple had worked hard at menial jobs all their lives in a town where they scarcely fit in, raising children with dreams and hopes they themselves couldn’t imagine. Those children’s dreams couldn’t be realized under this roof with these two humble people.

  Judging from the pictures, Jenn guessed that Camryn’s older brother had moved away some years back. And now, one way or the other, Trent and Lyla were losing their daughter as well.

  Lyla shook her head.

  She said, “I just don’t know what it is she wants to do with her life. Can’t she do anything she likes right here with us? I guess she doesn’t think so. She keeps telling us she has dreams, but she never says what they are.”

  Jenn could hear that resentment spilling out of Lyla Mays now. And Jenn suddenly didn’t like her tone.

  Why couldn’t Lyla and her husband wish their daughter a happier, more prosperous life than they had lived themselves?

  Lyla’s worry seemed to be mounting. She sat wringing her hands.

  She said, “Oh, please, please tell us that Camryn’s going to be all right.”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Riley said.

  Lyla shook her head anxiously.

  “We told her not to go to that community college,” she said. “Colleges are such violent places, so many girls get raped there these days. It’s just not safe for them to go to college anymore.”

  Jenn winced again at her words. Could the woman have said anything more defeatist? Anything more likely to keep Camryn from achieving more than they had?

  The poor girl, Jenn thought.

  Jenn was tempted to explain that it was only a myth that more women were raped on campus than were nonstudents of the same age. The truth was actually the other way around. Of course, Jenn knew that campus rape was certainly a huge issue these days. But that was because women students were more aware and empowered than nonstudents. They understood what was going on, and they were determined to do something about it.

  But now was no time to set the couple straight as to facts. Jenn realized that her own feelings were starting to interfere with her judgment.

  She sat listening as Riley asked all the sensible questions. Did the parents know of any connection between Camryn and the other girls? Did she ever complain of anything being amiss at school or at work? Did they know of anyone who might have threatened her or made her uncomfortable?

  Trent and Lyla simply didn’t know any answers.

  Worse still, Jenn sensed that they were becoming more and more upset with every passing question.

  The direness of what might have happened to their daughter was becoming all too real to them. By the time Riley finished asking questions, Lyla was in tears, and Trent was begging them to find their daughter safe and sound.

  Jenn felt sick in her heart that neither she nor Riley could make any such promises.

  *

  Riley headed for the driver’s seat of their car as they left the Mays house, but she realized she didn’t know where to go next.

  She turned to Chief Sinard. He stopped by his own car and said, “It’s getting late. I’m going to quit for the day. You should too.”

  Riley looked at Jenn. The younger agent agreed, “I don’t know what else we can actually do today.”

  Riley realized she didn’t know either. She also couldn’t think of anything else they could do, and she was tired after a long day that had included hours on an airplane. Tomorrow morning they could start afresh, perhaps by interviewing people with some connection to Camryn.

  Riley had noticed Jenn’s silence during most of the interview. She was still being very quiet as Riley drove. Something seemed to be troubling her.

  Cautiously Riley asked, “Jenn, is something wrong?”

  Jenn was peering out into the darkness.

  “Why do you ask?” she replied.

  Riley shrugged a little.

  “I don’t know. I just wondered.”

  A silence fell.

  Well, I guess she doesn’t want to tell me, Riley thought.

  After a while, Jenn said, “Riley, do you think Camryn … I mean, do you think the same thing happened to her that happened to …?”

  Jenn’s voice trailed off.

  “What do you think?” Riley asked.

  Jenn’s voice sounded distant and wistful.

  “I don’t know. It’s just that … well, does she fit the profile? She’s so different from the others. Older, different school, a whole different kind of life. And African-American.”

  Riley said, “The truth is, we really don’t have a victim profile to speak of—or a suspect profile, for that matter.”

  Jenn fell silent again.

  Finally she said, “Riley, I—I want her to be OK.”

  Riley’s throat caught a little. She knew the feeling all too well.

  Jenn added, “Do you ever get used to … well, this job?”

  A good question, Riley thought. And like most questions, it didn’t have an easy answer, much less a comforting one.

  Riley resisted the answer that came to mind:

  Not used to it exactly.

  But numb.

  At least some of the time, to some of it.

  The numbness comes and goes.

  Instead, Riley said, “Do you want to get used to it?”

  After all, that was surely the more important question for a promising young agent to be asking herself at the beginning of her career.

  Jenn didn’t reply, and Riley kept on driving. She wished she could say something to make Jenn feel better. She especially wished she could tell her that Camryn Mays was still likely to turn up safe and sound.

  But something in Riley’s gut said otherwise.

  She had the terrible feeling that it was too late to save Camryn.

  The best they could do now was to catch the monster, to make sure that no other girls were raped and killed.

  But Riley didn’t say so out loud.

  Keep your thoughts to yourself, Riley decided.

  Besides, she could still be wrong. She had to hope she was wrong.

  They drove the rest of the way to the motel in silence.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Later that night in her motel room, Riley’s phone buzzed just as she had stretched out on her bed to go to sleep.

  Her nerves quickened with apprehension when she saw that the call was from Bill.

  She answered quickly.

  “Bill! Has something happened at home?”

  “Relax,” Bill said. “I’ve been by your place, and everything looks fine.”

  Riley breathed a bit easier.

  She asked, “Any news from Norfolk? Have they caught Hatcher yet?”

  “No, but don’t let that worry you. They’re still tracking him.”

  Riley felt puzzled.

  “Tracking him? I thought they had him cornered in that apartment building.”

  “No, it turns out that he’s at large in Norfolk. I don’t know any details, but Huang and Wigton and their team are following his every movement. He’s been meeting with a lot of criminal cronies in town. Huang’s really excited about it. It looks like they’re going to catch a lot of high-level bad guys in the same net as Hatcher. They’re taking their time, though. They want to make the most of their opportunity.”


  Riley thanked Bill and ended the call. She closed her eyes and realized how tired she was. A good night’s sleep would certainly be welcome right now.

  But she couldn’t help but feel a pang of uneasiness.

  She knew she’d sleep a lot easier once she knew Shane Hatcher had been captured.

  *

  Early the next morning Riley awoke from restless dreams to the sound of her phone buzzing again.

  She let out a groan of despair.

  This isn’t good news, she thought.

  She picked up the phone and heard Chief Sinard’s voice.

  “Agent Paige …”

  She heard Sinard gulp audibly.

  “I just got a call,” Sinard said. “Camryn Mays … has been found.”

  Riley could tell from Sinard’s voice that there was no need to ask whether the girl was alive or dead.

  That gut feeling she’d had yesterday had proved all too correct.

  Riley suppressed a sigh. Sometimes she wished her gut could be wrong more often.

  “Where is she?” she asked the chief.

  “Cruikshank Park,” Sinard said. “I’m there right now.”

  “We’ll drive right over,” Riley said.

  The call ended, and Riley shook herself awake. She went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, hurried to the adjoining door to Jenn’s room, and knocked loudly.

  Jenn came to the door looking bleary-eyed.

  Riley said, “Sorry to wake you so early. But we’ve got to go right now.”

  “What’s going on?” Jenn asked.

  Riley simply shook her head.

  Jenn’s eyes widened. She seemed to grasp what Riley wasn’t saying aloud.

  “Oh,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  Jenn ducked back into her room, and Riley rushed to get herself dressed and ready to go.

  *

  Just a few minutes later, Riley and Jenn were in their car following GPS directions to Cruikshank Park. As soon as they pulled into the parking lot, Riley was struck by how unusual the park looked.