Lucinda took a deep breath, nervous; she’d never been comfortable in a crowd, let alone speaking in front of one, or leading one. She was distrustful of them, the mob, how the seeming safety and invisibility offered by the crowd could bring out the worst in the individual, even when people gathered for a common good. She had an uncle and aunt who lived in Buffalo who went on guided tours to far-flung destinations, spent weeks with strangers busing from site to site as a tour guide recited the same facts about the locale as the guide had done the day before and would do the day after. Lucinda could think of no worse way to spend time than with strangers holding brochures and wearing headsets, unless said tour was done on Segways.
The crowd looked up at her with expectation. Most of the faces she knew. Neighbors and customers. Other faces were foreign. She took note of them. The state police detective who’d charged her with this responsibility, for this quadrant of the search, had told her to keep a keen eye out for suspicious persons and behavior. To her, in this circumstance, everyone was suspicious. She remembered with a chill the looks of suspicion the women had given Jonah in his living room the night Sally had disappeared.
“You’ve each been given your maps,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her ears, too high pitched. “As well as a description of the girl. She’s roughly seven years old. Brown hair and very distinctive, deep, dark eyes.” Like Sally, she thought. Her eyes are like Sally’s. “She may have a limp. She’s shy and quiet. Speaks very little. It’s not known what she’s wearing, if anything. She’s about forty-three inches tall and fifty pounds. Skinny. Some of you will search along Logger Brook, others in the fields behind the schools, or the woods along Lye Brook and Beaver Meadows. Your map reflects the area you’ll cover, outlined in red. We plan for each area to take five hours.”
The faces peering up at her glanced down at the maps held in cold hands.
“We’ll take a lunch break—sandwiches and bottled water and fruit will be provided—then go on. We ask that you choose a partner, someone to stay by you. We’ll work in a line with each other as we go. Stay within arm’s reach of each other and go at the same pace so nothing is overlooked. Those in Logger Brook will be led by me. Those in the school area will be led by the sheriff, and those elsewhere will be led by state troopers Halcomb and Bender, who will speak in more detail in a moment and take over the responsibilities of the entire search, which goes far beyond where we will be looking in our group.”
Lucinda nodded at the troopers who stood off to her side, hands clasped behind their backs.
“What are we looking for?” a woman asked.
Lucinda glanced at the troopers. Trooper Halcomb stepped up, and Lucinda stepped aside.
“You are looking for everything and anything that at all looks out of place. Clothing. Tracks in the snow. Blood. The girl herself.”
“Alive?” a man asked.
“Let’s hope. If you find something, anything, do not disturb it. Do not touch it. Blow the whistle provided you, and the leader will take it from there. Just blow the whistle. That’s it. Do not under any circumstances touch what you find. Any more questions?”
“You don’t think she’s alive, do you?”
“I’ve no idea. I hope so.”
“You think she was taken?”
“I’m afraid that is the most likely scenario.”