Caleb stopped and prodded at a mound of dirt and leaves.
“Did you see something?” Willa asked.
“Bears hide their kills by partially burying them,” he said. “I figure a human killer might do the same.”
Willa shuddered, but nodded. Statistics weren’t on their side here. If Olivia hadn’t run away with a boy or other friend, and if she had been injured by something or someone, the more time that passed, the less likely they would find her alive. No one was saying that out loud—yet—but she was sure they were all thinking it.
She remembered when Rachel Sherman had been found. Willa hadn’t been involved in looking for the girl, but everyone she knew was keeping track of the search efforts, constantly scrolling for updates on social media. Willa was at work when a paramedic came in and told them Rachel’s body had been found. “I heard she was strangled and thrown in the creek,” he said. “One of the cops said she probably died within hours of her disappearance.” He made a fist. “They ought to find whoever did that to a kid and give him a taste of his own medicine.”
Willa had nodded and agreed with the paramedic. That was before Gary had been arrested. Before she had had to listen to people call for the return of the death penalty for “people like him.” So many people had assumed that because he had been arrested, Gary must have done those horrible things to an innocent child. No one seemed to believe her when she protested that her brother was innocent. Not even the man she loved.
Caleb’s radio chirped with a message from Danny to return to the lodge. “We’re calling the search for the night,” he said. “It’s too hazardous to keep going in the dark when everyone is exhausted. Go home. The sheriff will decide if he needs us tomorrow.”
Willa was crossing the lobby when Bethany caught up with her. “Are you riding back with us?” she asked.
“No,” Willa said. “My brother is here. I’m going to catch a ride with him.”
“My brother is here, too,” Bethany said. “But he’s one of the sheriff’s deputies, so I’ll skip riding with him.”
She waved and hurried off. Willa went in search of Gary. She approached several clusters of camp employees, but he wasn’t among them. She tried texting him, but got no reply. She was standing in the light from a cluster of cabins when Scott Sprague approached. The events of the day had reduced the owner of the camp to a gray and wilted version of his burly self, hisclothes disheveled, color drained by fatigue and the unflattering overhead light.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked.
“I’m looking for my brother,” she said. “Gary Reynolds?”
His brows drew together. “You’re Gary’s sister?”
“Yes. Do you know where he is?”
“The sheriff took him away about half an hour ago.”
She swayed—or felt as if she had, though perhaps the only thing that shifted was her perception. “Theyarrestedhim?”
“I believe they took him for questioning,” he said. “Of course, I guess that amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?”
Aaron stood atthe door to the interview room and studied the man at the table across the room. Gary Reynolds hadn’t changed much since the last time Aaron had seen him. He had the same pale blond hair and boyish features. The papers in Vermont had played up the contrast of his cherubic appearance with the horrible crime he was accused of committing.
But Gary didn’t look particularly cherubic at the moment. He was sweating and fidgeting in the hard chair across the table from Sheriff Walker. It was the kind of behavior Aaron had been taught indicated guilt. But could this also be the behavior of a man who had been wrongly accused once before, and was reliving his worst nightmare?
“What’s your relationship with Olivia Pryor?” the sheriff asked.
“I don’t have any relationship to Olivia,” Gary said.
“You don’t know her at all?”
“I’d never even heard her name before today.” He had stopped fidgeting, and looked directly at the sheriff when he spoke.
“But you must have seen her around camp,” the sheriff said.
“I work in the maintenance department. I don’t have any contact with the campers. And I’ve only been there two weeks.”
“Where did you work before you were employed by the camp?”
“I was unemployed.”
“Before that, where did you live?”
“I lived in Vermont.” His gaze slid to Aaron. “I’m sure Deputy Ames already told you that. I’m sure he told you the whole story.”
