“That’s it.” Ethan disconnected the call and shoved his cell back into his pocket with barely concealed frustration. “Officer Mallard was the last to check in. We covered the busiest clubs in the city. No one saw Jeanette Lawler.”

The trepidation in the pit of Alexa’s stomach knotted. They were standing in the lobby of the Piedmont Hotel, where Lawler’s crew was staying. She, Ethan and Nyle had returned here after they’d covered the clubs on their lists. The woman could have left an establishment before the team had started the search. She could have gone home with someone. She hadn’t returned here. Lawler wasn’t responding to phone calls to her room or repeated hammering at her door.

“Nothing says she would have brought her date back to her room.” Nyle’s face flushed a bit at the euphemism for a one-night stand.

“Right.” Ethan’s voice was flat. “No way to be sure for a few more hours.” A few of the clubs stayed open until four a.m.

“We may as well get rooms here. We’ll just need to come back in a few hours.” Alexa stifled a yawn. It seemed cavalier to allow exhaustion to override her concern for Lawler. But there was nothing to be done now but wait. And hope.

Ethan’s expression lightened. “I look forward to explaining my expense report for a night in the most expensive hotel in Halifax.”

“At this point, I’d spring for a room on my own dime. Not that I expect to sleep much.”

Ethan nodded at Nyle’s words. “I’ll get us checked in. We all need to rest. It’s going to be a short night.”

* * *

But in contrast to Ethan’s earlier words, sleep proved elusive for Alexa. There were too many questions flashing into her mind. Too much second-guessing.

It was the what-ifs that proved to be the most disturbing.

After a couple of hours, she surrendered and took her laptop out of its case. Booted it up. There were a dozen constructive things she could be doing, not the least of which was catching up on correspondence and updating the offender profile victimology pattern.

She tackled the emails first. Communications from Raiker’s agency and members of this task force were formatted so they would come directly to her phone, but others that she used for social and professional networks had to be accessed online. She quickly scrolled through the emails for the different accounts. Found nothing that was pressing.

She opened the final one, which was used only for emails from her professional organizations and for media inquiries. There were four new messages in the inbox. A yawn overtook her as she clicked on the top one. Perhaps she’d given up on sleep too soon. Maybe there was time to salvage an hour or two….

Her stomach did a slow roll as she read the message.

Hello, Alexa. I hope you don’t mind the familiarity. I don’t know you well yet, but now that my mission here is accomplished, I’ll be remedying that soon. I knew as soon as I saw you on television yesterday that your being here was preordained. What a delight that we have so much in common. You cannot yet understand that I’ve been appointed a prophet to the nations. But soon…. You will know me.

She wasted precious seconds staring at the message in shock before she finally leaped up, grabbed the laptop and her key card before rushing out the door.

Ethan was two rooms away. She pounded on his door, her eyes glued to the screen as if the message would disappear before her eyes. And perhaps it would. Fornier had mentioned something about Anis Tera sending emails that later vanished.

“What?” Ethan stood framed in the open door, clad in nothing but a pair of gym shorts. His tone was grim, but his expression was alert. Perhaps, like her, he’d been unable to sleep.

“He emailed me.” Alexa brushed by him to enter the room and sat on the edge of the rumpled bed, indicating the laptop she held.

“Who?”

“The offender.” She felt an unfamiliar rush of impatience. “He used my professional account that’s public, although rarely used…”

Ethan was at her side, sinking down next her before she finished the sentence. “How can you be sure it’s him?” She waited for him to read the message. Watched his expression go from grim to dangerous. He bounced from the bed, crossed the bedside table for his phone and returned to take a picture of the screen. Then he reached out to press the reply command. The screen went blank.

“It’s gone.” Alexa closed out of the window and returned to the inbox, but the message had disappeared. “Just like Fornier said. Vanishing emails. Forensic IT analysts can do something with this, right? Maybe track down the sender?”

He stared at her. “I think you’re missing the most critical point. He reached out to you. That means he has you in his sights.”

“Yes. Well…” She couldn’t say that the idea didn’t discomfit her on several levels, but the psychologist in her was oddly thrilled. “Do you realize how much we can learn about him if he continues to communicate with me?”

Ethan’s face went thunderous. He picked up the phone and pressed a speed-dial number. “Yes, we’re about to learn that you’re his newest obsession. Excuse me if I don’t share your enthusiasm at the prospect.” He spoke a few terse words into the phone and then disconnected.

“He said his mission here was accomplished.” Her stomach did a slow roll. “Do you think he’s saying that Jeanette Lawler is dead?”

“We’re soon going to find out.”

She glanced at the time in the upper corner of her laptop. Nearly six-thirty. They could check again whether the woman had returned in the last couple of hours. But a bitter sense of foreboding told her what they would discover.

The tap at the door was light. Ethan immediately got up and pulled it open. Nyle walked in. “He messaged you? That’s not good, Alexa. It means he’s focused on you now.”

“Communications from him offer a rare opportunity to figure out what he’s thinking. How he thinks. That can only help us catch him.”

Her words only made Nyle’s expression turn mutinous, but she knew she was right. Something was niggling at her about the email, tugging at a long-forgotten memory.

Ethan held out his phone to show Nyle the picture he’d taken of the message and Alexa swiftly reread it. The wording was slightly formal, but that wasn’t what had captured her attention. “A prophet to the nations. That’s from the Bible, I think.”

“Just another way of excusing his behavior,” Nyle noted.

“Possibly.” She chased after the dim memory in her mind. Thomas Reisman had drilled Bible verses into her from the moment he’d entered her life. As if the ability to regurgitate obscure quotes made up for the fact that he didn’t live the words. Not any of them.

“Before…something…the womb,” she murmured, staring into space, trying to recall the verse. “Before I formed you…in the womb I knew you…and before you were born, I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations,” she finished in a rush. “Jeremiah, chapter one, verse five.”

“Someone’s got delusions of grandeur,” mumbled Nyle.

Ethan looked at her long enough to have her glancing away. When it came to the time she’d spent under Thomas Reisman’s roof, he knew some of what happened. He’d never known all. “This is a critical breakthrough for his profile,” she insisted. “We’ve known he’s an organized offender, but haven’t understood his motivation. Perhaps the homicides are enacted because of his own twisted sense of justice.”

“So…God told him to do it?”

She ignored the hint of derision in Ethan’s tone. “He wouldn’t be the first to claim God told him to kill,” she reminded him. “More than that, he thinks he’s been chosen for this task.”

“You’ll need a new laptop, which will have to be backed up with all your important files.” Ethan was texting again. “I’m going to want to FedEx your computer to the Ottawa lab.”

The thought of losing her computer didn’t come without a pang, but it was no more than she’d expected. “I have flash drives in my computer bag. I can always—” Her voice broke off then as another email landed in the inbox on the screen before her. A dart of trepidation arrowed through her.

“Guys…” But both men were already at her side. As Alexa reached out to open the message, she noticed rather distantly that her fingers were trembling. This message was only one line. But it was enough to turn her bones to ice.

Jeanette rests in a place familiar to you.

Ethan’s curse was long, imaginative and brutal. “Nyle, wake up Lawler’s crew. Check her room.” But they all knew what he’d find. While they’d been out searching for the woman last night, she’d likely already been in the clutches of a madman. The officer all but raced out the door.

“He’s engaging you. Making you part of this.” Ethan’s tone was even, but urgency layered beneath his words. He sank down next to her again, and when his hand reached for hers, squeezed, she welcomed its strength.

“Yes. Not ideal, of course.”

“God.” He gave a half laugh and released her hand to jam his fingers through his hair. “That’s got to be the understatement of the year.”

“Think of it as another tool in the investigation. The message said familiar to me. I haven’t been in Canada for twenty years. Nothing is familiar.”

“He’s researched you. Probably started when he saw you at the press conference. He’s talking about Truro, isn’t he? That’s the last place you lived.” He paused a beat. “At least while in Nova Scotia.”

But most of the landmarks were unfamiliar to her. Reisman had kept her sheltered. Imprisoned, was how it’d felt at the time. The library had been her refuge, where unbeknownst to her mother or Thomas, Alexa had not only studied but tutored several local students. She’d passed online Advanced Placement classes in every subject, and by the time she was seventeen she’d acquired two years of college credits. The elderly lady next door had given her an old ten-speed bike, which had offered Alexa her first taste of freedom. And still she’d rarely been outside the city limits until she’d met Ethan.

Ethan had changed everything.

“Victoria Park,” she said doubtfully, tugging her focus back to the present. She’d ridden through it once or twice on her bike but had never dared to take the time to explore it. “The falls would be too public and difficult to access, but there are streams in the area.”

“There are. It’s also four hundred or so acres.” Without asking, he turned her computer toward him and keyed in a search. Looked stunned at the results. “Look at the number of waterways in Colchester County.”

She peered over. Felt her heart drop. “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. In Nova Scotia, one is never more than fifteen minutes away from a body of water. There has to be a way to narrow down the search.”

His mouth was flat. “We can choose a couple of places and expand from there. It’ll still take hours.” Unspoken was the fact that it could take longer than that. Even days. “I have to speak to the Colchester County detachment of RCMP. And the local Police Service. We need manpower. Possibly even an organized search party.”

Alexa was silent. The urgency in her veins had nothing to do with the possibility of finding Jeanette Lawler alive. The UNSUB’s last message had removed the final vestige of hope.

* * *

Two teams were formed, the larger one focused on Victoria Park, with the other searching nearby Irwin Lake. Each had a Search-and-Rescue canine, which had been given a possession of Lawler’s to establish her scent. Ethan had started the dog and handler on one end of the shoreline, he and Alexa on the other. The lake was only a kilometer long and a third of a kilometer wide. With the SAR unit, the two of them could handle this and the other small lakes in the vicinity.

Alexa was at his side. She was silent, but her silence spoke volumes.

“The two of us could cover twice as much ground if we split up.”

It was a recycled argument. She’d used logic, and then irritation when Ethan had first apprised her of the plan. Neither worked. “It’s too dangerous. The UNSUB contacted you directly. He could have remained near the body, waiting for you to come. It’s stupid not to take precautions.”

“Only if they make sense.”

They’d left the stretch of the lake with cottages and houses built close to shore for the end of the search. The offender had always left the bodies in remote areas up until now. But everything was upended as of this morning. The killer had never reached out before. He’d never tried to engage a member of the task force.

“Contacting you was an aberration.” Ethan stepped over a tree limb and turned to give her a hand. Ignoring it, she hopped over on her own. “When offenders suddenly change their behavior, we damn well better be cautious.” And he wasn’t going to take chances with her safety. He might not want to crack open the vault of their past together, but he wasn’t going to put her at risk, either.

That was all there was to the protective instincts that had surged to the surface. Ethan told himself that and tried to believe it.

“That defies logic. He could hardly be lying in wait at every one of the rivers, streams and lakes in the area.”

Her reasoning might be sound, but his reaction came from a visceral place, not a logical one. Contrary to his vow just days ago to keep his distance, it appeared as though he’d have to keep Alexa near him at all times. His unwillingness to dredge up the past paled compared to the need to keep her safe, even if her job did sometimes place her in similar situations.

“What did your husband think of you going to work for the Mindhunters?” He regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth. More so when she shot him a quick, startled look.

“I’ve worked for Raiker for five years. Danny died the year before I took the job.” The smile on her lips was wistful. “His cancer was in remission when we got married. It came back with a vengeance six months later. He was gone six weeks’ shy of our third anniversary. I thought then about what your dad told us. That none of us get through life unscathed. It was difficult to hear at the time, but he was right. We all have to find a way to live with pain without letting it define us.”

A bird shrieked overhead as Ethan bent to pick up a branch in their path and threw it toward the woods. He didn’t want to remember the conversation she referred to. Out of self-preservation those memories were buried deep. They seeped out despite his best defenses at times, usually picking the midnight hours to haunt. When mistakes were magnified and regret sliced deep.

“What about you?” When he cocked a brow, she elucidated. “Are you married?”

“Divorced.” He wondered how long it would be before he could say the word without an accompanying flood of relief. “Charlene was fond of saying that she’d married a hockey player, not a Mountie. After a knee injury cut short my time on the team, she never really adjusted to our new lifestyle.” Mostly because of the vast difference in paychecks for the two professions. He gave a mental shrug. She deserved credit for knowing what she wanted. And it had been readily apparent that what she didn’t want was a washed-up hockey player, no matter what job he chose afterward.

“And you were surprised at the career choices I made.” There was a teasing note in her tone. Apparently, she was over her pique of minutes ago. Alexa had never been one to hold onto a grudge.

“I had a lot of time to think when I was in rehab for my knee. I wanted to do something that would make a difference. I haven’t regretted it.”

The sand rimming the lake gave way to a grassy shoreline, hemmed by thick trees. The grass was tall enough that something lying in it wouldn’t be visible from a distance. Across the lake, the shore was punctuated with dwellings, but this part was undeveloped. Next to them was a marshy area where reeds rose from the water like fingers pointing accusingly at the sky.

A couple of flat-bottomed fishing boats dotted the placid water. The stillness of the scene would have been peaceful if it not for the reason they were here.

He even recognized the area ahead of them. “Were you ever out here when you lived in Truro? We’d have keggers sometimes, deeper in the woods there.” He indicated the crowded cluster of trees that stood like silent sentinels just feet away from the water. “A pulp company leased a lot of the land on this side of the lake back then. There weren’t near as many houses here either. No one to care what we were up to.”

“No, I was never here. And I can honestly say I never attended a kegger in my life.”

He wasn’t surprised. “Another shameful void in your childhood.”

Her expression was sober as she nodded. “The voids were myriad.”

Ethan had thought her pampered when they first met. Part of an overprotective family that sought to keep the world at a distance lest it proves too unpleasant for their precious daughter. His first impression couldn’t have been further from the truth, but he hadn’t known that until later. She’d been unlike any girl he’d met before, and he’d been captivated. It had taken persuasion, the likes of which he’d never had to use before even to get her to meet him outside of the library. Then he’d lured her to football games. Hockey matches. Baseball games. Once or twice he’d even managed to get her to agree to accompany him to a party, although she’d never seemed comfortable in crowds. She’d been stingy with the details she’d revealed about her home life, but he’d sensed a darkness there that was the polar opposite of his own family—his father an outspoken single dad raising three rambunctious boys on his own.

He could see the handler and the dog at the far side of the lake. They were covering a quarter of the perimeter themselves. The search-and-rescue animal didn’t have to rely on visual cues. With three hundred million olfactory receptors in its nose, the hound was more valuable than having an additional half dozen people on the site.

Alexa veered farther away from him to avoid a soggy area of ground. “When I recognized the words from the Bible verse in the offender’s message this morning, I couldn’t help thinking of Reisman.”

“Your st—your mother’s husband?” Not her stepfather, he recalled. She’d always been adamant about that. Nothing about the man’s treatment of her had been the least bit parental.

She nodded. “Some people will use religion to rationalize anything. Abuse, murder, discrimination, war. Reisman used it as a weapon to force my mother and me into the roles he decreed proper. If my suspicion about the UNSUB is correct, he may see himself as an emissary with a holy justification for his deeds.”

“And how does knowing that help us catch him?”

Her voice was unperturbed. “By allowing us to think like the offender. Calculate his responses. Predict his actions based on what we know about his motivation.”

Ethan knew her words made sense. He stepped over a painted turtle making its way to the water’s edge at a torturously slow pace. What he didn’t know was how they explained the offender’s sudden focus on Alexa. And what that fixation might mean for her safety.

“We’re attracting attention.”

He looked across the lake. Several people had come out onto docks to watch them. The two boats he’d seen earlier were now making their way closer to where the SAR handler was positioned. “Inevitable, I guess.” They came to a place where a copse of trees grew right at the water’s edge. Ethan went instantly alert. There were several areas like this around the lake. This one was the sort of spot he’d expect the offender to have chosen. Although it was directly across from a row of cottages, the tree line offered privacy.

They slowed, scanning the ground carefully. Ethan was so intent on the task that he started when three quick blasts of a whistle split the air.

The search was over. Jeanette Lawler’s body had been discovered.

* * *

“Thanks for your help.”

Ivan Swant, the dog’s handler, nodded at Ethan’s words. “A successful mission isn’t always a happy one.” He looked over his shoulder at the body for a moment. “I’m going to take Hudson back to his kennel. I don’t want to contaminate the scene. I wish you good luck finding the guy who’s doing this, Sergeant, I truly do. Hate to think about a monster like that on the loose.” The man turned and made his way back up to through the woods to the road beyond. And Ethan turned to look at the what the “monster” had wrought.

The body was lying on its back, limbs perfectly straight, staring sightlessly at the cloudless blue sky. The red sequined dress was a garish splash of color against the tall grass. Eyes were intact, Ethan noted absently, and he approached from an angle, preserving what would become the inner perimeter of the crime scene. The ground was still moist after the rains of the last few days. They had a chance of getting a decent footprint. As he drew closer to the body, he thought he could see grooves in the soft ground beyond, spaced about two feet apart. He pointed them out to Alexa.

She shaded her eyes to peer at them. “The case file said the UNSUB was thought to have used a dolly to transport bodies to the scene before.”

“We haven’t ruled out boats in some of the scenes, but yeah, that’s what we’ve figured. Haven’t always found the evidence, though.” He crouched down near the body. “No outward sign of torture. But we can’t be sure until the ME gets a look at her.”

“I wish I didn’t feel certain we’ll find something,” Alexa said quietly. There was pity in her voice, in her expression, as she gazed down at what was left of Lawler. “He changed his ritual with the last three victims to better justify his cause. I don’t see him changing it again, so soon.”

Her throat worked, and instinctively he knew what she was thinking. “On IHIT, I’m used to being called to crime scenes. But with an offender like this, there’s occasionally an opportunity to prevent another victim. Sometimes we’re too late,” he said softly. “Those times are the worst part of my job.” Their gazes met a second in mutual understanding. And then a movement in the corner of his eye had him whirling toward the lake.

“Sir, back that boat up! Now! Have a little respect.”

The rubbernecker in the fishing skiff was drifting as close as he dared, a camera phone aimed at the victim. Mentally cursing, Ethan moved into the water and positioned himself so that he was blocking the body. He’d already called a halt to the search at Victoria Park and summoned a forensic ident unit. Nyle was on his way, and he’d bring crime-scene tape and tarps. They’d have to get creative and rig up a barrier to keep the public from getting too close to the scene.

They may have been unable to get to Lawler in time to save her from the killer. But they could at least lend her some privacy in death.

* * *

“Ethan has set today’s briefing for…” Cell pressed to his ear, Nyle raised his brows at Alexa.

“…seven p.m.,” she supplied.

“…seven p.m. He’ll be at the crime scene until the forensic ident guys are done. If you have updates that are time-sensitive before then, contact him as needed. Yeah.” Nyle’s mouth flattened as he listened. “It was a tough one.” He disconnected a moment later and slipped the phone into his suit pocket. “Ian McManus. They’re still working the highway cameras in New Brunswick, as well as interviews with the two victims’ acquaintances.”

Nyle leaned over her and opened the glove box, taking out a small notebook and pen to hand to her. “You’re going to need these.” They got out of the car. They’d driven to the side of the lake sprinkled with cottages and cabins. “Start at opposite ends?”

Alexa nodded. It was doubtful that anyone had seen anything. The UNSUB had likely been here sometime hours past midnight when most would have been asleep in their beds. But there were fewer than a dozen dwellings. It wouldn’t take long to talk to all the inhabitants.

She knocked at the first door and received no response. Recalling the attention the crime scene had received, she rounded the house to look out back. A couple stood at the end of the dock. When she stepped onto it, they turned to look at her.

“You’re…I saw you across the lake.” A tall, slender woman with black hair clubbed back in a short ponytail approached her. “Is that a body over there?”

Alexa gave a mental sigh. She was going to be facing as many questions as she asked. “I’m sorry to say there’s been a homicide.”

The woman’s mouth made an “O” but the interest in her eyes was avid. “Do you know who it is? Who did it?”

“The victim’s name won’t be released until next of kin have been notified.” Alexa didn’t attempt to answer the second question. There was no way she wanted to get into that conversation. “We’re talking to everyone who lives in the vicinity. Did you see or hear anything unusual last night?”

“We don’t live here. Just renting for a week.” A man with thinning blond hair lowered the binoculars he had in his hands and turned to face Alexa. “Came for the peace and quiet. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened since we arrived.” Their names were Doug and Cindy Heathcliff, they told her. And after redirecting their focus time and again from details of the murder to her questions, Alexa was finally convinced they knew nothing.

The next house was more of the same. And the one after it. Although a few people were out on the lake, most were apparently going to spend the better part of their day watching the forensic ident team work.

The exception was the cabin midway down the row of houses. Nyle was already next door. After a desultory knock at the door, Alexa headed to the back. But there she found a mother in the water with her three young children, splashing and playing on inner tubes. It took some discretion for Alexa to state her reason for being there while being aware of the children in proximity.

“Well, thanks for not shouting your questions in front of the children,” the woman, who introduced herself as Sam Quinton, said after Alexa stated her purpose. Quinton wore a no-nonsense black one-piece and toweled her short dark hair vigorously as she kept a watchful eye on the kids. “I have a pretty good indication what’s going on across the lake, and I don’t want the children to get wind of it. God, a murder! Here!” She shook her head, a few stray droplets spraying out from the gesture. “You can’t get away from it anywhere, can you? This dissolution of the social fabric. It’s endemic.”

“Were you out at all late yesterday evening?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Like on the town, you mean? Fat chance, with these three. Biggest social event in our lives is taking them to the dentist.”

Alexa smiled politely. “Maybe you saw a light or some activity from your window or patio door…?”

Quinton should her shook her head. “I sleep like the dead. And so, unfortunately, does my husband. Because he never knows just how late Grayson stays out at night.” She broke off for a moment to shout, “Bradley, absolutely not! You do not hold your sister’s head under water!” She turned back to Alexa. “Twenty-three years old, sleeps all day and doesn’t lift a finger. Forget about paying rent. My step-son, not my husband.”

A flicker of hope ignited in Alexa. “So your stepson was out late last night?”

“If he weren’t, it’d be the first night all summer. He’s inside. Still sleeping, as I said.”

“I knocked earlier.” Alexa looked back toward the rental. “There was no answer.”

A grim smile tilted her lips. “Oh, I can fix that.” She walked a few steps toward the dock and leaned to pick up her cell phone, keyed in a number. After several moments, she said, “Oh, Grayson, it’s Sam. I’m so very sorry to wake you.” Her expression was positively gleeful. “But there’s someone out here with RCMP who would like to speak to you. What? Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not certain exactly what she wants. But we’re out back when you care to join us.” She cut off the call and gave a satisfied smile. “I don’t think he’ll be long.”

Not quite sure what to say in the face of those family dynamics, Alexa waited silently. As the woman had indicated, it was only a few minutes before a tall, thin young man, clad only in athletic shorts, stumbled out the back door of the house, pulling a T-shirt over his head. Alexa went to meet him. “Grayson Quinton?”

“Uh, yeah.” He looked like he could still be in high school, with a scraggly goatee and patchy facial hair. “I don’t know what Shorty Roder told you, but I already promised to pay for the damages.”

Surveying him, Alexa was half glad she didn’t have to get to the bottom of that story. “I understand you were out last night. What time did you get home?”

With a sidelong glance at his stepmother, he said, “Uh, right around midnight, I think.”

“It’s important to be accurate with any information you share with the RCMP, Grayson,” Sam said virtuously.

“Uh, yeah, you know it might’ve been later than that. I sort of lost track of time.”

Reaching for her rapidly fraying patience, Alexa said, “How much later?”

Shifting from one bare foot to the other, he said, “Maybe…it could have been three or three-thirty.”

“Did you see anyone as you got closer to the lake? Cars or people that stood out?”

“Not really, I guess. I was pretty…” With a quick look at his stepmother, he seemed to amend his words. “…tired. Didn’t notice much of anything. Oh. Except I stopped on the way to take a piss.”

“Grayson, honestly! Your language!” Quinton scolded.

He lifted a narrow shoulder. “Couldn’t wait ’til I got home, so I pulled off onto one of the logging roads on the west side of the lake. Got out for a couple of minutes and then headed here.”

Alexa was fast coming to share Sam Quinton’s opinion of the stepson. “Did you see anyone?”

He swung his head slowly from one side to the other. “There was hardly any other traffic most of the way home. But when I stopped to pee, there was a vehicle of some sort parked on that road, deeper into the trees. I figured it belonged to Andersen’s logging company. I didn’t notice anyone around it, though.”

Nyle must have finished next door and was now rounding the house to join Alexa. “What sort of vehicle?” she asked.

“Um…I didn’t get a great look at it.” Grayson folded his arms across his bony chest.

“I mean, was it equipment the company might use? A car? What?”

“Oh. No, it wasn’t logging machinery. But it wasn’t a car either. Too big. Like a van or something, I guess. Not a minivan like Sam drives, though.” There was disdain in his tone. “A bigger one like businesses use.”

Alexa could tell by the falter in Nyle’s step that he was close enough to hear what the young man had said. “Did you notice a color?” she persisted.

“White maybe or some other light shade. Oh, hey!” He finally seemed aware of his surroundings and gazed at the scene across the water. “What’s going on over there?”