The Girl and the Cursed Lake (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 12) Page 6

  “They actually don't know. She was found in a little cavern pretty far away from the campground. It wasn't a place just a normal person would happen on. She was propped up against the wall, as if she was just sitting there. But she’d been dead for a long time. She was so decomposed there was no way to identify a cause of death. Some people said it was just an accident, that she got somehow separated from her parents and didn't know where to go. There were a couple of big storms in the days after she went missing, so if she happened to be in the area with the cavern, she might have crawled in for shelter.”

  “But I thought you just said the cavern wasn't somewhere that somebody would happen on,” I say.

  “Exactly,” he says. “I've seen pictures of that cavern. It's not a huge, open cave like people imagine. It basically just looks like a hole in the rocks. And it's pretty high up from any of the trails. And by trails, I mean the spots where people have worn down the area from walking. It's not anywhere near any of the established trails or paths.”

  “So, the chances of her actually wandering away and stumbling onto this cavern are pretty slim.”

  “That's putting it mildly,” he says.

  “And they never figured out what happened to her?” I ask.

  “No. The investigation was heated. As a matter of fact, the head investigator, Ray Fitzgerald, came under some pretty serious scrutiny for how he dealt with the case,” Sam says. “I actually recently pulled up this case and others because of those guys coming into the region.”

  “You mean the Ghostbusters?”

  “They’re not Ghostbusters.”

  “Anyway. What do you mean, ‘scrutiny’?”

  “The case really got to him. From the very beginning, he seemed really wrapped up in it. But a lot of questions were raised about how he handled the questioning of the little girl's parents and other witnesses. He didn't follow the protocols and let himself act largely on emotion rather than following the proper steps of an investigation,” Sam explains.

  “That sounds familiar,” I say.

  “Definitely does,” Sam agrees. “Fitzgerald was really invested in figuring out what happened to the girl. I mean, I’m sure you guys have handled missing persons cases in the Bureau. You know that after the first forty-eight hours the chances of finding the person are slim. But he had a whole task force still searching a full two months later. And once they found her body, even though there was no direct evidence that she was murdered, he wouldn't accept that her death was an accident. People wanted him to just believe that she walked away from the cabin where her family was staying and got lost. She was only four years old. Violet was her name.”

  The realization hurts my heart. The image floating through my head is not just some generic child, some generic parents, but my friends. What if it were Bellamy and Eric’s child that was taken from them like that?

  “That’s really horrible.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But, also, things like that happen,” I say. “Little children are curious and can get away in a second if they get out of your sight.”

  “That's true. And it's why it was easy for most people to just say it was a horrible, tragic accident. She walked away, got lost, died of exposure and dehydration. It's easy to understand that. But Fitzgerald wouldn't let go. He was determined someone hurt her.”

  “But why? Did he know her or something?” I ask.

  "No. He'd never met any of them. All he ever said was that he could feel that something happened to her. He mentioned interviewing someone who was staying in a nearby cabin, and who the girl’s mother spoke to right after realizing the little girl was missing. Fitzgerald said the man made a few comments that were questionable. That man also noted hearing a scream a little while before the mom came to his cabin asking if he had seen Violet. But the witness didn't know the family, either. He had just gotten there and hadn't seen anything. But whatever he said to the detective was enough to make him really suspicious. He insisted on keeping the investigation open. But for basically everybody else, things just went back to normal. Until the next year.”

  “The next year?” I ask.

  Sam nods. “Oh, it only gets wilder from here.”

  Chapter Six

  "The next summer, the campground was just as busy and popular as it was the year before. A few people remembered the little girl who had died out there but didn't talk about her. As horrible as it sounds, it just didn't seem significant. Not enough to keep people away, anyway. But that year, one day after the anniversary of Violet's disappearance, two teenagers who were at the campground were reported missing. Jimmy and Logan were their names. They were friends staying with one of their families in the cabin next door to the one Violet's family had been staying in.

  “Since they were older, young teenagers, the panic wasn't as immediate. In fact, the adults staying with them at the campground didn't contact the police until the next day. They figured that the boys had just gone off exploring on their own, lost track of time, and decided to make camp for the night. The night of Violet’s disappearance. They were both experienced campers and had gone out into those woods many times before. It wasn't unusual for them. The parents didn't get concerned until the next day when they didn't get back in time for lunch."

  "Did they find them?” I asked.

  “They found one of them,” he tells me. “About three weeks later, his body was found tucked under a log near one of the hiking huts. He'd been asphyxiated, but it didn't look like there were any other injuries to the body. Not as if he’d gotten into a huge fight with anyone or anything. He was in a sleeping bag, and it almost looked as though he was dressed to camp out there. Unfortunately, his gear was well camouflaged, and it took a little while to find him.”

  “But only him? What about the other one?”

  “No trace of him has ever been found. Including his gear,” Sam says.

  “Is there any chance he's the one who killed his friend?” I ask.

  “That was bandied around as an idea,” Sam admits. “But it just didn't seem very plausible. These two had been friends for their entire lives. They had no conflicts, were not known to fight or disagree with each other about pretty much anything. I mean, they were teenagers, so I’m sure they had some conflict their parents wouldn’t know about, but there were no resentments or arguments anyone was aware of. And neither one of them was a particularly big guy. There was some question as to whether the one who went missing would have had the physical strength to suffocate his friend. Besides, Jimmy, the one who would have supposedly survived, was only fourteen years old. What is a fourteen-year-old going to do out on his own? There have never been any signs of life from him over the last fifteen years. No activity on his cell phone. He had no bank account. It just didn't seem plausible.”

  “Was Fitzgerald involved in that investigation?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. As soon as he found out somebody else had gone missing at the same campground, he insisted on being involved. He was the one who pointed out that it was on the exact date as Violet’s disappearance. Of course, other people said that was just a coincidence. It's an extremely popular time for camping. But he wasn't convinced. To him, Logan Boyer's death was confirmation that Violet's disappearance and death hadn't just been some random happenstance.”

  “Alright, so that was fifteen years ago. How do we get to the thirteenth anniversary?” I ask.

  "The next year, three more teenagers went to the campgrounds and didn't come out. The body of one of them was found a week later. Some campers really familiar with the area were going down to an old swimming hole to take a bath. They found him sitting up against a tree. The weather had been really hot, so he wasn't in the best condition, but there were indications he had also been asphyxiated, like the boy the year before. Only this one showed signs of having fought back. Not severe injury, but enough to show that he had struggled a bit."

  "And the other two? I asked.

  “Bones were found six months later. A couple
of them had some scraps of fabric on them. Testing proved they belonged to one of the other boys. It looks as if he was probably killed and set out somewhere, just like the other one, but animals got to him and scattered his remains before he could be found. The third one is still missing.”

  “Let me guess. Happened around the same time,” I say. “Just like the two boys from before.”

  “They arrived at the campground just a couple of days before the anniversary of Violet's disappearance. Best guess for when the body they found was killed lies within a day or two of that arrival.”

  “It's not a coincidence anymore,” I say.

  Sam nods. “And you know how I feel about that.”

  “So what was done with it once they figured out the pattern?”

  “The park rangers decided the best idea would be to shut down the campground. It wasn't all because of the disappearances and deaths. Arrow Lake had been on the slate for potential closing for a while because it was getting older, and more people were drawn to the campgrounds that allow RVs and have nicer facilities. At least, that was what the official stance was. A statement was put out that said the campground was no longer accessible, and anyone entering it would be considered a trespasser. But that wasn’t nearly as effective as they’d hoped. Which brings us to thirteen years ago.

  “Three teenagers and a twenty-year-old went hiking in the park. Everything seemed fine. They were keeping in touch with family and friends. Everybody thought they were just going on a hiking trail on the opposite side of the park. But then all contact with the family ceased. A couple of days later, they checked social media and noticed that one of them had taken a picture in front of the cabin where Violet’s family was staying. There hasn't been a trace of any of them since.”

  “If they abandoned the campground, why didn't they just tear it down? Why are the cabins still there?” I ask.

  “Since it’s part of a national park, there’s a ton of red tape they have to get through to make any changes to the site itself,” Sam explains. “Taking down the buildings would be extremely expensive, too. The national parks don't have a huge operating budget, either. It would be a massive expense to go through that, not to mention the environmental impact. So, they did what they could. By that point, it was pretty obvious that the incidents were linked, so Detective Fitzgerald was heading up the entire investigation. He ordered the area locked down and set up perimeter surveillance. For the next several weeks, officers were all over that place, trying to find the missing boys and looking for any clues they could possibly find. They didn't find anything. The next year, he set up surveillance again for the week surrounding the anniversary, just to make sure nobody else decided to go try his luck.”

  "Because somebody would," I comment.

  “Of course, they would,” Sam says. “It's what people do. Curiosity, arrogance. There's something about places where something terrible happens that makes people want to go and look at them. That and just the basic draw of being told they're not allowed to be somewhere. There's a sense of entitlement that makes people want to prove they're not being controlled. If they're told they can't go somewhere, it's the first thing they're going to do. So, Fitzgerald made sure that wouldn't happen. There are surveillance cameras and some security stationed at the camp stores throughout the park, but nothing like that around the campgrounds. That's pretty much the same for all national parks. People don't want to feel as if they're being watched when they're camping. And the thought of spending that much money for ongoing surveillance of an abandoned campground just wasn't an expense the park rangers were willing to take on.”

  “But it's been thirteen years and nothing has happened?”

  “Yeah,” Sam says. “The surveillance went on for the next few years, but it's probably been a decade since there was anything ongoing there. It's not unheard of for off-duty officers to volunteer to set up surveillance around that area near the anniversary, and there are some highly experienced campers and hikers that make their rounds through it as a way to pay tribute to the victims too. They love the parks and really don't appreciate anybody making them unsafe for people wanting to visit.”

  “Have there ever been any leads or anything?” I ask. “It seems with that many people going missing, the situation would have been better publicized. There would have been bigger coverage. They would have been able to find something.”

  “It was covered,” Sam says. “But without anything concrete, there wasn't anything to go on to find who did it. The park didn't want to make too big of a deal out of everything, because they didn't want to attract more curious visitors to the area. And now after all these years, there's still nothing.”

  “Nothing but the ghosts,” I say.

  “Nothing but the ghosts,” Sam says.

  Chapter Seven

  One hand props my head up with my fingers buried in my hair, while the other spins my phone around on top of my desk. I've been staring at the papers spread out in front of me for the last couple of hours. Actually, it might have been a whole lot longer than that. I don't really know. I lost track of time somewhere between pulling out all my old case files and my father’s calling me.

  I hadn't spoken to him in almost three weeks. That got my worry cranking up, even though I tried to tell myself not to automatically go to the bad place when I didn't hear from him. It's hard not to. Even after so many years, my memories of when he simply disappeared out of my life are still fresh.

  I can still, without even having to strain, remember what it was like to come home and have him not there. Everything seemed exactly as it had been. I woke up that morning thinking it was a completely normal day. I went about my tasks and did everything I needed to do. But by the time I went to bed that night, the realization was already tugging at the base of my brain and tightening around my throat. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

  He's back now. He's in my life again and has been for a couple of years. But that doesn't take away the sharp edge of the memories. It doesn't mean that having him go deep undercover as he tries to dig out the secrets of the Order of Prometheus and track down the murderous chapter from Harlan has been far harder on me than I really want to admit.

  The truth is, it isn't about me. His decision is completely about me since I'm the one who asked him to go undercover and help me with my investigation, but the investigation itself isn't about me. It's about the people who suffered at the hands of the men who wanted to prove their importance and create disturbing blood ties with each other. It's about Andrew Eagan and Millie Haynes and Lakyn Monroe. It's about Xavier and Lilith Duprey and the bones scattered across the cornfield. I don't get to make it about myself.

  But I still worry. I understand why he can't call me all the time. I understand why I went the first few months without hearing a single word from him. He has to do it to protect himself, to protect me, to protect the entire operation. And it still leaves me terrified that I might have heard the last words I will ever hear in his voice. And that this time I won't get another chance. That I'll never know what happened to him.

  At least for tonight, I know he's doing all right.

  The same can't be said for the cases I buried myself in. The words are starting to blur together, and I know I'm confusing details. That's a very bad thing when it comes to trying to unravel as many knots and tangles as I have in these files. But I can't walk away from them.

  "What are you still doing up?" Sam asks, coming into the office.

  I glance over my shoulder at him and take just a second to appreciate how gorgeous he is in nothing but his boxer briefs. Sometimes when I look at him, I feel like an investor who put a little bit into a startup company, then came back to rake in the profits when it grew into a massive corporation. I made my initial investment in him in high school, and now I'm back to enjoy my dividends.

  Not that I'll ever actually say those words to him. I have a feeling Sam wouldn't appreciate the analogy.

  “I'm just looking over everything,�
�� I tell him. “There's something I'm missing. I know it's right there in front of me. I can just feel it. It's as if I just tilt my head a different way and look at something, it's going to pop out at me. It's right there.”

  “You should get to bed,” Sam says. “It's late.”

  “Don't you have some ghost stories that can keep you company?” I ask.

  “I'd rather you keep me company,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

  His eyes fall to my fingers still spinning my phone around.

  “Dad called,” I say.

  “How is he?” Sam asks, suddenly sounding more serious.

  “He sounds fine. He says everything's okay and that he's safe. He only anticipates staying there for another couple of weeks.”

  “Didn't he say that around the holidays?” Sam asks.

  “Yes, but then he got that lead. He had to follow it. Now he says he thinks he's gathered just about everything he's going to be able to without people getting suspicious. He'll tell us more when we can meet in person. He did say he hasn't been able to actually track down any of the men from Harlan. But some guys from one of the chapters he spent some time with earlier in the spring said a couple of things that sounded like references to the Dragon. He said it was in code, which he recognized because the same kind of language was used in the chapter here in Sherwood and in the ones in Florida. But to communicate in that code, you have to know certain keywords. He doesn't know any of them for that code, so he couldn't reciprocate the conversation,” I say.

  “Did that put him in danger? Does that mean that the other person knows something's going on with him?” Sam asks.

  “No,” I say. “Apparently, it's something they do on a fairly regular basis. Because the Order of Prometheus is fairly complex and deals with delicate situations like political careers, it's not uncommon for smaller factions within the chapters to work together on certain missions. In order to make sure those missions are secure, the code language is adapted with keywords. Those who know the keywords can unlock pieces of the conversation that eventually becomes ongoing communication. Using that code with another member of the Order is just a way of gauging whether that person is familiar with any given activity. If they don't know the keywords, you just move on.”