Page 13 of Mile High Mystery

He texted Camille half a dozen times, but she never answered. Finally, at four in the morning, he headed home. He woke several hours later to a phone call from Camille. “Turn on the TV!” she said. “It’s really happening!”

Still groggy, he turned on the television and scrolled through the channels until he came to footage of two men in suits being led away in handcuffs, flanked by half a dozen police officers. He turned up the sound. “...eyewitness statement led to the arrest of the Chalk brothers for the murder of Judge Andrew Hennessey.”

“Where are you now?” Zach asked.

“I’m in a safe house. Trust me—I’m being taken very good care of. And so are you and Mom and Dad. If you see more cops that usual, it’s because they’ve promised to keep an eye on you. Just in case the Chalks decide to go after one of you to get to me.”

“Mom and Dad are in danger?”

“No. I don’t think so. You’re all going to be fine.”

“What about you? Can they really keep you safe?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll have to lie low for a few months, until the Chalks are safely behind bars, but it will be so worth it. You can’t imagine how I feel right now. I’ve gone from being a server to a crime-fighting hero. I’m thinking I want to go into law enforcement after this is all over. This could be the best thing that ever happened to me!”

“I should tell the cops what I saw,” he said.

“No! Don’t you dare. You’ll just confuse things and put yourself in danger. Promise me you won’t do it, Zach. Promise!”

He rubbed his temples, which throbbed from stress and lack of sleep. “You don’t think they need to know?”

“They don’t. I’ve told them everything they need. You look after Mom and Dad and root for me from the sidelines. It’s all going to be great. You’ll see.”

Chapter Five

Shelby sat at a table in a small interview room at the Rayford County Sheriff’s Department. Next to her, Sheriff Travis Walker listened to the statement of a witness from the campground where Camille Gregory’s body had been found. The sheriff had the most perfect poker face Shelby had ever seen. Tall, dark-haired, looking more like an actor hired to play the part of a county sheriff than an actual law enforcement officer, Sheriff Walker had agreed to let Shelby sit in on the interview. Actually, he had said, “Suit yourself,” when she had asked to be present for the interview, and then led the way to the interview room.

Brent Baker shifted in the hard metal chair across from them. He tapped his fingers on the table, tilted his neck back and forth, yawned, then smoothed his hands down his thighs. He reminded her of addicts she had seen, jonesing for a hit, except that Baker looked too healthy to have a drug habit. He wore a tight T-shirt that showed sculpted pecs and abs and moved like an athlete. “I camped out there for three nights, rode some of the backcountry trails,” he said in answer to the sheriff’s question about what he was doing at the campground. “I ran into Carla, and we started talking.” He frowned and scooted his chair forward a couple of inches. “She introduced herself as Carla, though I heard later her name is really Camille?”

Travis didn’t deny or confirm this. “What did the two of you talk about?” he asked.

Brent scratched his cheek. “Oh, you know, just what a pretty day it was and what a nice campground. She said she had rented the van and was traveling around, seeing the country. I asked if she biked, and she said no, but she was hoping to do some hiking while she was in the area.” Another frown. “I prefer biking to hiking, but I asked her if she wanted to go hiking with me.”

“Why did you do that?” Travis asked. A legitimate question, maybe, though it made Shelby want to wince. Brent the Biker was clearly flirting with Carla/Camille and wanted an excuse to spend more time with her.

“I thought she was hot,” he said. “I was hoping maybe we could hook up.” He glanced at Shelby. “No disrespect meant, ma’am.”

She nodded. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“Did Carla say anything about where she had traveled from or where she was headed?” Travis asked.

“No. She just said she’d been traveling around. She asked if I lived in Eagle Mountain. I told her I was from Lake City, but I’d spent plenty of time around here.”

“Did she act nervous, or afraid of anyone?” Travis asked.

“No. She was pretty relaxed. Friendly.” The chair squeaked as Brent shifted again. “She turned me down on the hike, though. Said she would probably leave the next day. Then we started talking about the weather. It was clouding up and the wind picked up, and I told her I had seen a forecast that called for rain. She didn’t like that much.”

“Did you see her talking to anyone else at the campground?” Travis asked. “Other campers or anyone else?”

Brent cracked his knuckles and scuffed one toe on the floor. “That’s why I’m here, right? Right when it first started raining, I came out of my tent to throw a cover over my bike. I looked toward Carla’s van and saw this guy running down the road, away from her campsite. I mentioned it to the cop who came around interviewing everybody, and he said I needed to come in and talk to you.” He spread his hands wide. “And here I am.”

“What did the man look like?” Shelby asked before the sheriff could.

“He was about six feet tall. Kind of thin. He was wearing black pants and a black rain shell with the hood up, so I really couldn’t see his face.”

“How did he run?” Shelby asked.

Both men stared at her, and she forced herself not to squirm. “Did he have an easy lope, like a practiced runner?” she asked. “Did he do a sort of walk-run thing of someone who’s hurrying but doesn’t like to run? Or did he run like someone in a hurry to get away?”

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