"He won't. We'll observe his movements. Round the clock."
"Ray."
"That's what we're doing." Ray straightened and buttoned his jacket. "In the meantime, we find out if any of the women or girls he photographed match any of the bodies from the bog."
Noah nodded and moved toward the exit.
"Noah." Ray's voice caught him at the threshold. "Are you sure you want in on this case?"
"Eventually I have to get back to work."
He pushed through into the corridor and headed for the stairs.
Callie caughtup with him halfway down the hall, her boots quick on the tile.
"So I heard the lead we got on the discovery of the six bodies came from some artist in Saranac Lake." Her voice was low enough that it didn't carry, but the edge in it was sharp. "When were you going to tell me this?"
"Does it matter?"
"It does when the Brooke Danvers case is linked to the Ellison case that your brothers handled. You wouldn't be keeping things from me, would you?"
Noah stopped walking and turned to face her. "The sketch was in the Carter Lyle file. I visited the studio. I saw others that appeared to be larger versions of the same scene. I know the area. I put two and two together and got a hit. It's rare, but it happens."
"So you think Seraphine knew about those bodies?"
"No idea. Haven't spoken to her yet. But from what Ray says, she was involved in the Three Pillars Community. Their farm isn't far from that dump site."
Callie was quiet for a moment. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, processing it. "So you think Carter Lyle may have had someone working with him? Or wasn't involved?"
"That's the big question." Noah glanced down the corridor, confirming they were alone. "There was a rag found in Kara Ellison's exhaust. One in Brooke Danvers’. Another in Fiona Spence's. Do the math."
13
The sign on the studio door still said By Appointment Only but the lights were on inside and Noah could see movement through the glass. He tried the handle and it opened.
The gallery was smaller than it had seemed through the window. Paintings lined the walls in mismatched frames. He could smell turpentine and linseed oil. A young woman stood behind a counter near the back, wrapping a canvas in brown paper. She was early twenties, with dark hair pulled into a loose knot and paint on her fingers that she hadn't bothered to wash off. She wore a flannel shirt over a tank top and the expression that said she'd been working all day and was ready to stop.
"You're Seraphine Maddox, right?"
She glanced up. "Yes. We're closing up for the day, if you're..."
Noah held up his badge. "I'm State Investigator Noah Sutherland. Do you think we could talk?"
Her eyes went to the badge, then past him toward a doorway at the rear of the studio where someone was moving in the back room. She set the wrapped canvas down.
"I have a meeting. I really can't right now."
"Just a moment of your time."
She hesitated, then came around the counter and stepped outside with him onto the sidewalk. The late afternoon light was warm on the storefronts along Main Street and the traffic was thin. She stood with her arms crossed, not hostile but guarded.
Noah pulled the sketch from the file inside his jacket. "Five years ago you drew this and handed it in to the police. Why?"
Seraphine studied it. Her face didn't change but something behind her eyes shifted, a flicker of recognition that she smoothed over quickly. "I was sixteen at the time."
"But you came forward with information about Kara Ellison's disappearance."
"That was a long time ago. I was a different person then."
