“Sort of,” Sadie hedged. “We should concentrate our efforts closer to the cave—the axel— and radiate out from there. The model has a hub, which is the immediate area around the cave.”
“I did search about a quarter-mile radius around the cave,” Bodhi offered.
Diana nodded. “We’ll spread out and do it again, though. She may not be stationary.”
Sadie went on, “The spokes are established routes leading from the cave—so the trail in both directions, the road, the river, drainage trenches, that sort of thing. We’ll radiate out to those. The final part of the model is the reflectors. These are places within the search area where there’s a high probabilityshe would go. Places she intended to photograph, water sources, that sort of thing.” She turned to Aaron. “Pull up the photos she posted before she went dark. Where did she already go?”
He fumbled with his phone, scrolling. “Uh, in reverse order, the old barn, the unmaintained spur just about a mile from here, the bus shelter up on the road near the scenic overlook, and that abandoned gas station just outside of town.”
“Thanks. She might backtrack, but we’re going use those locations to predict other locations, close to the cave, where she might have gone next. We’ll check the abandoned barn on our way because it’s really close to the cave. Then we’ll fan out. Let’s get going.” She hoisted her pack onto her back and set off on the trail.
Bodhi and Diana waited for the others to follow Sadie, then trailed slightly behind the rest of the search party as they made their way west on the trail. This portion of the path was well-maintained, but it narrowed in sections, forcing them to proceed in a loosely organized single file. Sadie led the way with Aaron close behind her, holding his flashlight at an angle that illuminated her footsteps. Julie followed them, then Tripp and Lucas, with Evan just ahead of Bodhi and Diana.
The group had fallen into a natural rhythm, feet crunching on the packed gravel surface of the trail. Occasional snippets of hushed conversation drifted on the air in the otherwise quiet night.
As the trail curved slightly, Evan slowed his pace and fell back to join them.
“Diana, could I have a word?” he asked.
“Of course. You can talk in front of Bodhi.”
Evan’s gaze flicked to Bodhi, assessing. He hesitated for a moment before plunging in.
“While Chief Ron is famously cynical,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “he might have a point about Rory’s disappearance.”
Diana stiffened beside Bodhi. “You think she staged it to draw attention to her exhibit?”
“I think she believes deeply in what she’s documenting. The displacement, the erasure of communities. She’d do almost anything to make people see it.”
“Including leaving her own blood in a cave?” Bodhi asked.
Evan grimaced. “No. The blood’s what got me thinking. She already had people buzzing after she posted her artist’s statement online. All she needed to do was take some photos on the trail and upload them, like she said she would. Pulling a disappearing act like is unnecessary for her goals. But she’s not the only one who stands to benefit from her DIY installation going viral.”
“Who are you talking about?” Bodhi asked.
The history professor sighed. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I think I have to. That man, Tripp, isn’t just a fan of Rory’s work. He owns the Hot Metal Art Gallery.”
Bodhi stopped walking. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“He’s the one who canceled her show?” Diana asked.
“Exactly. And trust me, a publicity stunt is more in line with his ethos than Rory’s.”
“How well do you know him?”
“I don’t know him at all. But I do what led to the show being canceled. Rory came to see me yesterday. She told me Tripp didn’t think the show was generating enough buzz, so her ex-boyfriend suggested Rory shoot a series of nude self-portraits to include in the exhibit. She refused, and Tripp said he’d cancel the show if she didn’t do it. She told him to shove it.”
Bodhi processed this information.
“Tripp is her ex-boyfriend?”
“No.” Evan shook his head. “She said her ex and Tripp were close friends.”
Diana resumed walking. Her bobbing headlamp lit up Tripp and Lucas from behind.
“Lucas,” she said suddenly. “Not long after she moved here, she mentioned an ex who she dated when she was a model. He was a fashion photographer, and he was shooting the Met Gala. He was in a clip from the red carpet that was on the TV in the dentist’s office. She announced to the whole waiting room that he was a weasel.”