They found Wade with a group of boys and girls in an open-air pavilion, where they were working on some kind of leather craft. “Can we speak with you a minute?” Travis asked.
“Sure.” He caught the eye of the woman across from him. “I’ll just be a minute, Veronica.”
He followed Travis and Aaron to a tree some distance away. “What’s up?”
“We got the coroner’s report back on your brother,” Travis said.
Wade’s expression tightened. “What did it show?”
“He had over twice the legal limit of alcohol in his system. And he had taken sleeping pills. A couple of them, at least. Seconal.”
Wade shook his head. “Trevor didn’t take sleeping pills. He wouldn’t hardly even take an aspirin. He didn’t like pills of any kind. And he never got drunk.”
“Never?”
“I can think of maybe two or three times in his life I ever saw him even tipsy. And he wouldn’t drink and drive. Besides, when I saw him at the bonfire, he was perfectly sober and happy.”
“He didn’t argue with anyone that night?”
“No! What makes you think that?”
“He had a black eye, two broken fingers and a busted lip,” Travis said. “The coroner thinks all those injuries happened several hours before he died.”
Wade stared. “Somebody beat him up?”
“Have you seen anyone around here with bruised knuckles or any injuries like that?” Aaron asked.
“No.” He took a deep breath, then looked Travis in the eye. “None of what you’re describing is anything Trevor would do. Do you think someone could have kidnapped him, beat him up, filled him full of pills and alcohol, then forced him off the road? Because that’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
“Who would do that?” Travis asked. “And why?”
“I can’t figure it out. It sounds like a movie plot or something. But I can’t believe he would kill himself. I know people probably say that all the time but Trevor really wasn’t like that. He was a happy guy. And if something was bothering him, I would have heard about it. He wasn’t the type to keep things to himself.”
“Did Trevor know Olivia Pryor?” Aaron asked.
“Do you think this has anything to do with what happened to Olivia?” Wade asked.
“Did Trevor and Olivia know each other?” Travis asked.
“I don’t think so. I mean, I never saw him talking to her or anything.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “When he started working here part-time, I made a big deal about how he had to stay away from the kids, especially the girls. You don’t ever want to be alone with them, or touch them, or do anything somebody might misconstrue. That’s a sure way to get in big trouble. I harped on it a lot and Trevor took the warnings to heart. He was friendly, but not too friendly. Mostly, he just helped me out and focused on the job.”
“We haven’t found any connection between Olivia and your brother,” Travis said.
“I hope they find her soon,” Wade said. “She was a good kid. Polite. Smart. Her parents must be sick about this.”
“We’re not going to stop looking for her,” Travis said. “Call me if you think of anything helpful.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Wade returned to the crafts session, and Travis and Aaron headed for the main lodge. “We’re sending the drone up again this afternoon,” Travis said. “And tonight we’ve got a military helicopter flying over with heat-sensing technology. If she’s out there, maybe they’ll find her.”
Aaron sensed the worry behind his words. The sheriff wasn’t known for talking. Right now it was as if he was listing out loud everything they were doing to find Olivia, listening for anything he might have left out or overlooked.
“Tell me about the girl in Vermont,” Travis said. “The one who was killed.”
Aaron paused, gathering his thoughts. “Rachel Sherman was nine,” he began. “She disappeared right after dinner. She was on her way back to her cabin with four friends and stopped to use the toilet. They went on without her. She never showed up at the cabin, so the counselor sent a couple of older girls to look for her. They couldn’t find her, so she alerted the camp manager. A search was conducted by camp staff, then they called the police department. We searched and the next day found her body up under some brush on a creek about half a mile from the camp. She had been strangled. Sexually molested, but there was no DNA.”
“And no idea who killed her?”
