Bet took a moment to assess the situation. One of the challenges of her new position was that sometimes she worked as a patrol officer and sometimes in the role of detective. Patrol officers made quick decisions, acting fast in difficult, often complex situations. As a detective, her actions must be methodical, the work slow and exacting. Her instinct was to rush back down in the cave, but she needed a plan before chasing another girl based on nothing but the ramblings of a semiconscious college kid.
“Working faster isn’t always better,” her father would say when Bet wanted immediate results. “If you’re investigating a crime, you can’t afford stupid mistakes. Unless someone is in immediate danger, choose precision over speed.”
Sitting in her office, Bet leaned her chair against the wall and looked out at the tiny sliver of Lake Collier visible through her window. The water was as flat and still as a pewter tray in the moonlight. She cleared her mind of everything except what she’d just learned, trying to decide how best to proceed.
Was there another girl in the cave? Or was this Katie the person who shot at her when she exited the cave? Could Seeley have been saying Carrie, not Katie? They still hadn’t located Carrie Turner.
Bet wished Seeley had provided more information before he slipped back into unconsciousness. All Clayton could say was he didn’t think this Katie had been the one to shoot Seeley, as he appeared concerned about her welfare. Bet wanted to go back down in the tunnels looking for this second girl. But what if she didn’t exist? And if she did, was she the one who’d killed Jane Doe? Seeley had also mentioned an Emma. Was Emma Jane Doe?
Full identification of Jane Doe still remained one of the most important things on her to-do list. Now she had a possible first name: Emma. She thought back to Seeley’s friends list on Facebook. Thumping her chair back down on all four legs, she woke her computer up, found his page, and scanned down his list of friends.
No Emma on the list, but there were several Katies, Katherines, and Catherines, any of which could be “Katie.” Or, since Clayton had said Seeley was hard to understand, he could have referenced this Carrie after all. She thought about searching other social media, except with nothing but a first name, it felt pointless.
She pulled out the phone number they believed belonged to Seeley’s parents in Jaxon and put in another call. She’d rather meet them in person, but they needed to know their son’s life hung in the balance in a hospital in Seattle. She also needed to gauge what they knew about their son’s activities. They might also have last names for Emma and “Katie” or have information about Carrie Turner.
Once again, an answering machine picked up on the other end. Bet hung up and contemplated a drive to Jaxon.
Bet called Clayton, who reported that Seeley was in surgery. Bet gave Clayton the Landerses’ phone number. She asked him to keep trying to contact them, verify that they were Seeley’s parents, and tell them their son had been injured.
“I think you need to stay in Seattle and talk to them in person. They might know Emma and have information we need. They are more likely to be helpful if you’re there in person. They might also know something about why these kids were out here to begin with. Maybe we can get a handle on this Katie person and ask about Carrie Turner.”
“It could be a long wait.”
“Leave your number; tell them it’s urgent. Hopefully they’ll get back to you soon. If I don’t hear back from you, I’ll call in a few hours after I see if Schweitzer can find anyone else in the cave. By that time it should also be getting light.”
Bet grabbed her cell phone, which she’d put on the fast charger, and double-checked her emergency backpack, loaded with items like a first aid kit, bottled water, power bars, matches, a candle lantern, a compass, a flashlight, and extra batteries. She kept it ready for when hikers went missing in the mountains. She hadn’t bothered to take off her Kevlar vest and still had Seeley’s backpack from the cave. She could use that to give Schweitzer a scent to follow. Alma had fed him dinner earlier, so they were ready to go.
Heading out of the office, she stopped at Alma’s desk and explained what she planned to do with the possibility that another girl might be in danger.
“Schweitzer and I have to go back in to look for her,” Bet said.
“Not by yourself.”
“Dale is at the mine entrance. I’ll take him in with me.”
She called to Schweitzer, who bolted upright, ready for action.
“Don’t let anything happen to my dog,” Alma said, turning back to her computer.
Bet headed back out the door. She and Schweitzer piled into Rob’s Bronco. Once they were on the Colliers’ private road, George heard her coming and met her out front. She rolled her window down as he stepped to the edge of the road.
“You’re in a hurry, Younger.” He eyed the vehicle, no doubt recognizing Rob’s car. “Awful late to be out driving around. Something wrong?”
“Just following up on something. You sure you haven’t seen anyone in these woods recently? Someone a little more substantial than a ghost?”
George said he hadn’t, and Bet suggested he stay out of the forest for the next couple of days.
“This is more than an accidental death, isn’t it Younger?”
“I can’t get into it now.”
“You go do what you do. I’ll keep an eye out on the woods.”
Bet continued forward and pulled up to the front door. Rob opened up while Bet let Schweitzer out of the Bronco. The dog walked over and sat at Rob’s feet, looking up at him as if waiting for something.
“I appreciate the use of your vehicle.”
“Anytime, Elizabeth.”
Rob squatted down next to the dog and held out his hand. Schweitzer solemnly reached out his paw for a shake. “Nice to see you again, Schweitzer,” Rob said.
“I’ve never seen him do that before,” she said, amused. Rob gave her a look of curiosity. “We’re still getting to know each other. He was my father’s dog.”
Rob turned back to Schweitzer. “Looks like you’re going to work, big guy.”
Rob stood and watched as she pulled Seeley’s backpack out and started toward Clayton’s dirt bike, Schweitzer on her heels.
She wondered if there was any chance Collier’s prodigal son planned to follow her back to the mine entrance. It didn’t make sense for him to be involved in Jane Doe’s homicide and then take her to the mine entrance and help her find Seeley. But something had brought him back to town the same week Jane Doe died.