on, we’re going to be better.” Travis pointed to Nate. “Did you see anyone else when you were in the area near the murder this morning?”
“I talked to an ice fisherman—checked his fishing license. A local guy.” He searched his memory. “Abel Crutchfield.”
“Gage, find him and interview him,” Travis said.
Gage nodded.
“Anyone else?” Travis asked.
Nate shook his head. “Nobody else—except Jamie—Deputy Douglas—and her sister.”
“Jamie, did you see anyone while you and your sister were out there?”
“No one,” she admitted. “We didn’t even pass any cars once we turned off the main highway.”
“You start with the women,” Travis told her. “See if you can find any commonalities—or any one woman who had a reason someone might want to kill her. Enough that he would kill others to cover up the crime.”
“Yes, sir.”
Travis gave the others their assignments—Nate was going to work with Gage on re-canvassing people who might have been in the vicinity of the two murders that occurred on forest service land.
The meeting ended and they filed out of the conference room, unsmiling and mostly silent. Nate stayed close to Jamie. “Is Donna upset about all this?” he asked.
“A little.” She shook her head. “Not too much. She does a good job of living in the moment, and I try to keep things low-key—not bring the job home or act upset around her.”
“These killings have everyone on edge,” he said.
“It’s frustrating, having him do this right under our noses. I realize it might be more than one person, but it’s awkward to keep saying ‘killer or killers.’”
“I get that,” Nate said. “We all say ‘he,’ even though we suspect more than one person is involved.”
“This is a small community,” Jamie said. “We ought to be able to spot someone like this.”
“He knows how to blend in,” Nate said. “Or to hide.”
She rolled her shoulders, as if shrugging off some burden. “I was surprised to see you here this afternoon,” she said.
“The sheriff asked me to sit in. I’ve been one of the first on the scene for three of the murders. I spend a lot of time in the backcountry, where several of the women were found. He’s trying to pull in every resource that might help. And I want to help. There’s not a law enforcement officer in the county who doesn’t want to catch this guy.”
“Of course. Well, I’d better get to work. I’m going to start reviewing all the information we have about the victims.” She started to turn away, but Nate touched her arm, stopping her.
“Now that I’m back in Eagle Mountain, I’d really like us to be friends again,” he said.
The look she leveled at him held a decided chill. “I don’t have a lot of time for hanging out and reminiscing about the old days,” she said.
She shrugged out of his grasp and started down the hall but was stopped by Adelaide Kinkaid. The seventy-something office manager alternately nagged and nurtured the sheriff and his deputies, and kept her finger on the pulse of the town. She peered over the tops of her purple bifocals at Jamie. “Where’s the sheriff?” she asked. “There’s someone here to see him.”
“I think he’s still in the conference room, talking to Gage,” Jamie said.
“I’ll get him.” Adelaide started to move past Jamie, then said, “You go on up front and stay with the couple who are waiting. I’m thinking this might benefit from a woman’s touch.”
Nate followed Jamie into the small front lobby of the sheriff’s department. A man and a woman in their early thirties huddled together near the door, arms around each other, the man’s head bent close to the woman’s. They both looked up when Jamie and Nate arrived, the woman’s face a mask of sorrow, her eyes puffy and red from crying.
“I’m Deputy Douglas.” Jamie introduced herself. “The sheriff will be here shortly. Can I help you in the meantime?”
“We’re Drew and Sarah Michener.” The man offered his hand. “We came to find out everything we could about…about Michaela Underwood’s death.” He looked down at his wife, who had bowed her head and was dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. “We just heard the news, from her parents.”
“Michaela is…was…my sister,” the woman—Sarah—said. “We heard she was killed in the woods near here this morning. I want to know if that man—Al—killed her.”
“Who is Al?” Jamie asked.
“The man she was supposed to meet this morning, to go snowshoeing,” Sarah said. “If you found her by herself, and he wasn’t there, he must have been the one to kill her.”
“I’m Sheriff Walker.” Travis joined them in the lobby. “I understand you wanted to talk to me.”
“This is Drew and Sarah Michener.” Jamie made the introductions. “Michaela Underwood’s sister and brother-in-law.”
Travis shook hands with the Micheners. “We’d better talk about this in my office,” he said. Jamie started to turn away, but Travis stopped her. “Deputy Douglas, you come, too.”
Nate moved aside to let them pass, Travis leading the way to his office, Jamie bringing up the rear.
Gage joined him in the lobby. “What’s up?” he asked, watching the couple disappear into Travis’s office.
“Michaela’s sister and her husband think they know who killed her,” Nate said. “Or at least, she was supposed to meet a man—someone named Al—to go snowshoeing this morning.”
“And you didn’t see any sign of him out there with her, did you?” Gage asked.
“No.” He continued to study the closed door, wishing he could hear what was going on in there. “Even if he didn’t kill Michaela, the sheriff is going to want to find him and talk to him.”
Gage put his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Right now, the sheriff wants me to talk to this ice fisherman, Abel Crutchfield. You up for coming with me?”
“Sure.” He’d planned to finish his report on the condition of elk and deer herds in the area, but that could wait. A murder investigation took precedence over everything.
JAMIE FOLLOWED THE Micheners into Travis’s office, closing the door after her. She stood by the door, while the Micheners occupied the two chairs in front of Travis’s desk. Even if Jamie could have found more seating, there wasn’t room for it in the small room.
Travis settled behind the desk, a neat, uncluttered space with only a laptop and a stack of files visible. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said. “Losing a loved one is always hard, but losing them to murder is especially tough. We’re doing everything we can to find who did this, but if you have anything you think can help us, we certainly want to know.”
Sarah looked at her husband, who cleared his throat. “Can you tell us more about what you already know?” he asked. “We got the call this morning from Sarah’s father—Michaela lived with them, so I assume that’s how you knew to contact them. But they’re understandably upset and didn’t have a lot of details.”
“We found Michaela’s body in her vehicle on the side of Forest Service Road 1410,” Travis said. “The medical examiner thinks she was killed earlier this morning. Do you know why she would have been in that area?”
“She