Santa Rosa County, Florida
Creed paced. He hated waiting. But this time, not as much as Jason.
“I could just open the lid. Take a quick look.”
“No,” Creed had to tell him. “We can’t risk messing up fingerprints.”
The dogs were already enjoying their reward toys: Grace with her pink elephant and Scout with his double-knotted rope toy. Even Hank got his bouncy ball, throwing it up high and catching it before the ball touched the ground.
Creed hoped this wasn’t the end of Will’s trail, but both dogs alerted to the Dumpster. Grace wanted to continue, pulling and tugging and pointing toward the forest on the other side of the chain-link fence. Creed didn’t want to risk the dogs getting hurt if Will was here, and only a piece of his clothing had been discarded in the woods.
He hated to even think about that possibility, but unfortunately, he’d seen it happen before.
When he stopped Grace and insisted they wait, Brodie and Jason exchanged glances. He could see it in both of their eyes. They were steeling themselves for the worst-case scenario.
Brodie took notes and photos. Creed gestured to Jason to take the dogs back further into the park area where there was more grass and a lone streetlamp.
“Hey, guys.” Brodie stopped them.
She was doing a walk around and now stood shining her flashlight between the Dumpster and a section of fence.
Tucked into the tight space was a bicycle. In the dim light, it was easy to tell it wasn’t an old rusted one that someone had attempted to throw away. Instead, it looked like it had been placed carefully against the fence in an attempt to hide it. On the other side of the chain-link, the forest began again. No one would see it except from this slight angle.
Creed looked to Jason for an answer. “Do you have any idea what Will’s bicycle looks like?”
“I think it’s his.”
Jason fumbled his own Maglite out of his daypack, his fingers scrabbling to turn it on. He shot another beam across the frame, checking out the brand, then settled on the handlebars. Light reflected back off the rearview mirrors.
“It’s his. Taylor bought him a new one for his birthday. He had a growth spurt this summer and his knees were hitting into the handlebars. She also bought some rearview mirrors. I installed them, but it was tricky because Will wanted grip shifters instead of trigger shifters.”
He pointed the light to where the pieces fit in.
Brodie took a photo. “I’ll text it to Sheriff Norwich.”
That’s when headlights appeared on the other side of the park, coming around the corner. Norwich was looking at her phone even as she got out of the vehicle. The road didn’t come back this far. She had to walk across the park. Behind her, Creed could make out a mobile crime van jockeying its way for a closer position, then finally parking.
“So what does this mean?” Jason asked. He was looking at Creed, eyes filled with as much hope as dread.
He wished he had something, anything to offer, but right now, the only ones who could answer that question were the crime lab technicians. There were three of them, and despite wasting no time, it seemed to take forever.
“You found the bicycle.” Norwich said.
“It’s Will’s.” Jason explained how he knew for sure.
“A woman in this neighborhood said she saw a boy on a bicycle today. She doesn’t know what time but remembered thinking he should be in school.”
“The houses that Scout alerted to earlier,” Creed said. “He may have ridden by or even stopped. Jason said Scout took him up to the front door of one and wanted to go through the backyard of the other.”
Norwich nodded. “I heard about that. This is a working community. It sounds like not many folks are around during the day on a Monday.” She paused as she watched the techs unloading their equipment. “I also just got a message from Deputy Trevor. He showed those crumpled drawings we found in the bulldozer to Will’s mother. She thinks the boy might have been sketching what happened to him.”
“What was in the sketches?” Jason asked.
“A little boy with a red backpack running away from a blue pickup.” She paused for a moment. “We’re checking to see if any security camera footage caught anything like that, or even a blue pickup that doesn’t belong in that neighborhood.”
“You sound skeptical, Sheriff,” Creed said.
“It’s hard not to be. Will drew the pickup driver as a vampire.”