Adrian clicked off the video and faced us. We all were speechless for a few seconds. Ashley threw her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, her squeeze giving me strength as I willed myself to stay conscious, despite the clamminess that had descended upon me. I took a few deep breaths to ward off my lightheadedness, each successive breath bringing me more back to life, like the re-inflation of a deflated balloon.
Ashley’s voice was tremulous. “Was that what I think it was in that trash bag?”
Though I’d regained my composure, my voice sounded thin. “It was a body in the bag, wasn’t it?”
Adrian chewed the inside of his cheek. “Based on the way the trash bag was handled, it seemed heavy and jointed. Yes, it looked like there was a body in it to me. Looks like someone hid a body in the bag, put it in the wheelbarrow, and then covered the bag with plants. Do you recognize the person in the video? Could it possibly be Milo?”
“I don’t think so.” My voice quivered. “The person in the video looks taller and huskier than Milo. But you know what’s weird? The hooded person was lucky the car’s backseat had been folded down or there wouldn’t have been a trunk to put plants and a body in.”
Adrian perked up. “Milo’s car normally didn’t have a trunk?”
“No, it did. He kept the backseats folded down most of the time. So, no real point. It just strikes me as weird. Sorry.”
Adrian paused. “Don’t be sorry. That was a good observation. You’re starting to think like a detective—question everything and think outside the box. For instance, that bag could have also just been a big bag of soil or fertilizer.”
I turned to Adrian. “Don’t get me wrong—as much as I’d love it to be a bag of soil or fertilizer—in all my years in the landscape business, I’ve never seen bags of soil and fertilizer that big unless they were customized for a large job.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “Okay. I’m going to have our dispatcher update the report right now to reflect suspected foul play. Be right back.”
Ashley and I exchanged mournful looks.
“I can’t believe that might be Milo’s body.” I sank into a chair, my shoulders heaving as I gasped for air in between sobs.
Ashley rubbed my back. “Try to calm down, Tory. You’re hyperventilating. Take a few deep breaths.”
I inhaled deeply and, after a few minutes, I felt better.
Adrian came back to his cubby and gave me the thumbs-up sign. “We’re all set—just updated the missing person’s report.”
He turned the video back on. “Let’s see what else we’ve got on here.”
The monochrome footage continued. The hooded figure got in the driver’s side of the car and then drove out of the parking lot. Adrian fast-forwarded for another minute and found nothing more of significance.
He clicked it off and turned to me. “Okay, we really need to look at all the footage from the other hotel cameras now. Maybe we can see which direction the car went after this. I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
Adrian patted the side of Ashley’s shoulder, and he and Ashley locked gazes for a second.
Ashley and I left the police station, walking arm in arm to the parking lot.
I waited on the passenger side of her car. “I saw that.”
Ashley beeped open the doors. “What?”
“That look. Your chemistry with Adrian—it was like an electric current emanating from both of your eyes.”
Ashley laughed, bubbling over with giddiness. “You saw that? I felt like I was beamed up to another level. I think I like him.”
“I think it’s mutual.”
Ashley squealed in response.
While Ashley drove me home, I checked my Instagram post. The only new comments were those sending well wishes and prayers. Nothing new related to Milo’s disappearance.
Ashley tossed concerned glances my way as she drove. “I’ve got a great idea. I’ll interview you on my podcast.”
“What podcast?”
“The one I’m going to start. I was thinking of calling it Where’s Milo? You know, like Where’s Waldo? It could help spread the word.”
I guffawed. “I’ll do anything that’ll help. But who’s going to listen?”
Ashley patted my hand. “Oh, child. I didn’t double major in marketing and communication for nothing. Trust your friend.”
“Okay. Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks. Meanwhile, keep checking your social media posts to see if anyone has seen him or knows anything. In this day and age, I’m convinced you can run but you can’t hide—for very long, at least. Also, try reaching out to the local paper. Do you know anyone who works there?”
“I don’t know anyone personally at the Santa Sofia Sentinel, but Benning Brothers advertises there. I’ll ask Uncle Bob and Aunt Veronica who our contact is.”
“That’s the spirit. Also, have you heard of Disappeared.com? Try contacting them to see if they’ll put out a Where’s Milo? post too.”
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to brand the investigation now.”
“You want to find him, right?”
“I do. What’s next? T-shirts?”
“Hmm. Not a bad idea. Let’s hope we’ll find him before that. If not, that can be part of Plan B.”
“We could post signs around the hotel and the surrounding neighborhood and in the neighborhood around his town house too.”
“All phenomenal ideas, Tory. We could mention the podcasts in the signs. Way to cross-reference. Go, you.”
• • •
Two weeks passed without any significant news on Milo. I’d gotten into the habit of reading online articles about other missing persons each night for tips to make sure we were doing everything we could to find Milo. It only depressed me more. Many cases took months or longer to solve, some never were.
I received a call from Adrian. “We’ve looked at footage from several home and business surveillance cameras, but so far Milo’s car hasn’t been captured on any.
Both he and his car had vanished into thin air.
“I know you’re frustrated, but I assure you our investigators are doing all they can.”
I didn’t doubt that. My doubt lay in their limited experience and skill in investigating anything more than a missing dog. Most of those cases usually had happy endings, thanks more to technology and microchips than to the detective skills of our local police force. I was crossing my fingers that the one exception might be Adrian. His updates demonstrated a bulldog-like tenacity, a trait I hoped that, combined with his ambition, would lead to solving the mystery behind Milo’s disappearance.
“Make sure you let me know if you remember anything else out of the ordinary, even if it seems unrelated or insignificant. Some of our most challenging cases have been cracked from a simple clue. Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
I scoured my brain to remember any crime story I’d ever read about in the Santa Sofia Sentinel that could be described as “challenging.” I decided I’d give Adrian’s detective skills the benefit of the doubt. No use second-guessing him at this point. Better to keep my own antennae up and hope I noticed something the police could follow up on.
I’d emailed my aunt Veronica, our former finance VP who’d also overseen marketing and advertising, about her contacts at the Santa Sofia Sentinel. I was browsing through our latest Benning Brothers Nursery ads she’d placed in the Sentinel. The page was filled with pictures of seasonal plantings, summer stuff on clearance, wheelbarrows, and hoses. That triggered my thoughts about the wheelbarrow treads from the parking lot. I drove down to our nursery to check out our wheelbarrows. The tread patterns varied, but all of them were more or less around the same width. I decided to go down to the hotel and take a look at their wheelbarrows, which were stored in a large shed at the rear of the property.
Before I started my car, I texted Ashley to let her know where I’d be. Heeding Adrian’s warning, I’d gotten into the habit of letting her know where I was going anytime I explored a lead. I drove to the hotel and parked in a remote lot that backed onto the railroad tracks. Since it was dinnertime, the groundskeepers had already left for the day. As I headed to the shed, I reflected on the last several days. It was hard to believe that this time two weeks ago Ashley and I were tiptoeing through the maze hoping to find Milo. So much had happened in a short period of time. His smashed phone and the rock had shaken me up, but the video showing what was almost certainly a body in a bag had dashed any hopes I’d ever had we’d find Milo alive.
The narrow, hedge-bordered walkway leading to the shed was deserted. I shuddered as I experienced the same feeling of isolation as I did when I was in the Secret Maze. For peace of mind, since it was getting dark, I decided I’d follow the less secluded driveway back to my car after I looked inside. I padded up to the structure that looked like a small barn. Huge double doors made up one whole wall, permitting one end of the shed to be opened up for easy access to all the equipment. The dirt driveway to the shed was only sparsely covered with gravel, making it possible to pick out different types of tracks in the dirt. The big double doors had a padlock, so I went around to the side where there was a door. That was locked too. I peered through an adjacent window and gasped. There were eight wheelbarrows lined up as neat as a fleet of cop cars. But it wasn’t the wheelbarrows that stopped my heart. It was what was parked next to them—Milo’s car.