Page 20 of Crosshairs

Life does that to you,” Linc said, thinking of Blake. For years, he’d wondered why Ainsley had left the career she’d fought so hard for, the career she’d ended their relationship over. “The news reports never explained why you walked away.”

“No, they didn’t,” she said. “How are your parents, by the way?”

He wasn’t getting his answer today either. “They’re fine. In Ecuador for the summer, doing mission work.” Maybe someday she’d trust him enough to share the reason.

Ainsley fell silent until they rounded a curve and orange lights flashed on the side of the road. “Looks like we may have found the fallen tree,” she said.

A few yards down the road a maintenance worker held up a stop sign. When she brought the truck to a stop and lowered her window, Linc recognized the worker—Billy Norris.

“Tree down?” she asked.

“Yep.” Voices came from the handheld radio. He replied and then turned back to the truck. “Be another few minutes.”

“I have another chain saw if you need help,” Linc said.

The worker bent down where he could see him. “Didn’t recognize you, Linc. I think we have it under control, but thanks.”

He shifted in his seat. “You were the one who found the teenaged girl who was murdered.”

He grimaced. “Terrible thing, what happened to her. I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing that poor girl’s body.”

Ainsley’s breath hitched. “You’re Billy Norris?”

“Yep.” His radio crackled again, giving an all clear. “Okay, you folks can go now.”

A car pulled up behind them.

“I’m Ainsley Beaumont with the Investigative Services Branch of the National Park Service. I planned to find you later today, but could we talk now?”

“Sure. It’ll be a minute before they pick me up.”

Ainsley pulled her pickup to the side of the road and grabbed a notebook. They both climbed out of the truck and waited until Billy crossed to their side.

She shook his hand. “I appreciate you recounting what happened. It can’t be easy.”

“It ain’t, and I hope you can find the scumbag who did this.”

Linc stood back as Ainsley took charge. It was her investigation, and he was pretty sure it’d stung that Sam had called and asked if Linc would assist. When he agreed, Sam had emailed him the case files that included Billy’s statement, and Linc scanned over them on his phone before he left the Waffle House.

Ainsley fished her cell from her pocket. “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

“Fine by me,” he said.

She turned on the recorder app. After speaking their names, time, and date, she said, “Go ahead.”

“Well, it was like this. We’d stopped at Rocky Springs to clean the bathrooms and generally police the area. It was about eight in the morning, and I, uh...”—he scuffed the dirt with his shoe—“took a break, walked up the road. It’d rained the night before, and it was kind of muddy on the side. I noticed these footprints. Barefoot, like a kid. Then there were shoe prints, but not like they were together.”

Billy felt his shirt pocket, where the red top of a pack of Marlboroswas visible, then seemed to think better of smoking and dropped his hand. “I followed the footprints and found her propped up under a bank with all these roots coming down. Like a cage, you know?”

She nodded and he continued. “It wasn’t far from the old Methodist church. I don’t know how long she’d been dead, but there wasn’t a mark on her that I could see. Of course, I didn’t look that close.”

“Did you recognize her?” Linc asked.

Billy gave a sharp nod. “She was a cheerleader at Natchez High School with my Sherry. Been to our house, don’t know how many times. My kid is taking this pretty hard.”

“Did you notice any signs of a struggle?” Ainsley asked.

“No. Soon as I knew she was dead, I didn’t want to disturb anything. Backed away from her and called Sam Ryker.” He shook his head. “I hope I never see anything like that again.”

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