She stopped and reread the initial interview with Victor and Susan Shepherd, then took out a highlighter and ran it over the section where they talked about the camper Valerie claimed to have seen. “Right after we got to camp, Valerie climbed up onto a boulder and said she could see another camper nearby. Someone with a blue dome tent,” Susan said. Her husband hadn’t even heard this remark. The most information came from Vince, who said Valerie told him she met the man when she went to collect firewood. He had given her wood he had gathered and smiled at her. “She said he had a nice smile,” Vince had said.
The sheriff’s deputies had asked every person in the area that day if they had seen a lone male camper or backpacker, or one with a little girl who matched Valerie’s description. No one had seen him. Appeals to the public who might have seen such a man had yielded nothing.
A man with a nice smile. Had the smile won Valerie over enough that she had gone with him? But where? Vince and his parents swore they had never seen the man, who, if he had been real, had seemingly vanished without a trace. Valerie had risen before the rest of the family and gone out to search for more wood. Had she encountered the man again and he had spirited her away in those early hours before anyone else was on the trail? It was possible, but if that was the case, where had they gone?
She continued reading through the file and came upon a single paragraph from a statement taken from a woman and her boyfriend six months after Valerie’s disappearance. They had seen a man with a backpack on a trail near the one the Shepherds had taken, on the day before the Shepherds’ camping trip. They described him as medium height and build, brown hair, early to mid-twenties. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt and hiking boots, and had a blue backpack. They hadn’t spoken to him and had only come forward after seeing repeated appeals for information about a lone male hiker. “But it was the day before the little girl disappeared, and on a different trail,” the woman—Jennifer—had said.
A handwritten note at the bottom of the page stated they were unable to obtain any further information about this man. A second note, in a different colored ink and different handwriting, contained just two words:probably unrelated.
That was the last entry in the slim file. Tammy closed the folder and stared into space, hoping for inspiration but finding none. Her stomach growled, and she decided maybe she would think better after lunch.
She walked down the street and was waiting in line for a booth at Kate’s Café when a voice behind her said, “Tammy Shepherd? That is you, isn’t it?”
She turned to find Elisabeth slipping in behind her. Tammy glanced past her, expecting to see Mitch. Elisabeth laughed. “Mitch is showing a big ranch over near Delta,” she said. “I’m on my own. And it looks like you are too.”
The pause after these words was so weighted Tammy felt it pushing against her. “We should have lunch together,” she said.
“I’d love that.” Elisabeth linked her arm with Tammy’s. “It will give us a chance to get to know each other better.”
The server arrived to escort them to a booth along the side, and Tammy focused on the menu. But after a few moments, she became aware of Elisabeth studying her. She looked up. “You don’t look like Mitch, do you?” Elisabeth said.
“He takes after my dad,” Tammy said. “I look more like my mom. Though people say there’s a resemblance.”
Elisabeth shook her head. “I don’t see it. Though maybe some family traits run stronger than that. For instance, my brother and I looked just alike. People thought we were twins.”
“Oh. How many siblings do you have?” It seemed a safe enough topic of conversation.
“None. At least, not anymore. He died. My whole family is dead.” She smiled, the expression so at odds with her words that Tammy was taken aback.
The server arrived to take their orders, providing a reprieve. Tammy tried to gather her thoughts. When they were alone again, she asked, “Have you been enjoying your time in Eagle Mountain?”
“I have. This morning I went shopping. There’s a boutique in the Gold Nugget Hotel. Lucky Strike—do you know it?”
Tammy knew of the boutique, though its prices were beyond what she could manage on her reporter’s salary. The styles displayed in the boutique’s front windows were more upscale than what she usually wore. She dressed for comfort, ready to race out to the scene of an accident or to interview someone at a construction site or mine. Elisabeth, in her short skirt and heels, looked straight out of a magazine spread. There was no missing the way heads turned to follow her when she crossed a room.
“You’re the first newspaper reporter I’ve ever met,” Elisabeth said. “I thought that was one of those jobs that didn’t exist anymore.”
“People are still interested in the news,” Tammy said.
“On television and online, maybe. I thought printed news was going the way of the dinosaurs.”
This wasn’t the first time Tammy had heard similar statements. “Not our paper,” she said. “There’s no other source for local news.”
“Then you enjoy your job,” Elisabeth said.
“Yes.” The hours were long and the pay wasn’t the best, but reporting was what she had always wanted to do. “The work offers a lot of variety,” she said. “And I end up knowing about everything going on.”
“What interesting things are going on in Eagle Mountain?”
“Everyone’s gearing up for the Fourth of July. It’s a big holiday here, for the locals and the tourists. There’s a festival and a parade and fireworks.”
“It sounds charming.”
Tammy couldn’t tell ifcharmingwas a positive or a negative to Elisabeth. “Do they do anything special for the Fourth where you’re from?” she asked.
“Different places have fireworks.” Elisabeth unrolled her napkin and spread it across her lap. “Mitch told me the two of you have a sibling who died. That’s too bad, isn’t it?”
Was that a question or an observation? Tammy was saved from having to reply by the arrival of the server with their food. She focused on the food, pondering a way to take the conversation in a less personal direction.