Page 28 of Her Final Hours (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #3)
I t truly was the calm before the storm.
Lucas Blackwood either had nothing to hide or thought he was untouchable.
They would soon find out. Noah had Callie call ahead to arrange the informal meeting.
With no evidence against him or reason to believe that he was anything more than an unfortunate person of interest over two decades ago, they opted to go out to him.
Expecting him to show up at the Sheriff’s Office after how he’d been treated would have been asking a lot.
Noah was surprised that he was willing to meet them.
Many that fell under scrutiny would often change phone numbers, move to a new state, or fall off the radar — not him.
On the drive out to Camp Eagle, located on a peninsula on Upper Saranac Lake, the afternoon looked like they would see a change in weather for the better.
The steady snow flurry had all but given way, leaving the road flanked by snow-covered trees and the occasional snowflake gently falling from the sky.
Callie glanced out the window, observing the serene surroundings. “It’s hard to believe we’re so close to a massive snowstorm. The radio has been talking about it nonstop. But you’d never guess it’s nearly upon us. Only a few flakes. It’s almost peaceful.”
Noah nodded, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Yeah, but then again, weather in the Adirondacks has always been unpredictable. Let’s hope it holds until we’re done here today.”
Noah decided to share some recent information he’d uncovered as they drove. “By the way, I made a call to the railroad earlier. It turns out Frank Rodriguez was lying to us.”
Callie raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Surprise, surprise.”
Noah chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s a wild story.
At first, I thought it was significant, but after having Parish follow up with him, I came to find out the truth.
The reason he never told the cops what he was really doing that night was that he didn’t want to get Don in trouble for giving him a ride outside of work hours.
He would have also landed himself in hot water.
He wasn’t supposed to be working that night. Something he didn’t tell Don either.”
“So, where was he coming from?”
“Albany.”
“Why?”
“Because he was seeing someone down there.”
Callie laughed. “Ah, I see. And this investigator friend of yours confirmed that with his mistress?” she asked.
Noah nodded, swallowing some coffee before setting his cup down in the console. “Oh, for sure, but it wasn’t a mistress. His ex-wife had already left him because she found out he was seeing guys on the side. Frank begged Parish not to tell his workplace.”
Callie nearly spat out her drink. “What? You’re kidding.”
Noah couldn’t help but find amusement in the situation. “Yep, that’s right. Janice left him when she discovered his little secret. Talk about living a double life.”
Callie shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Hey, everyone’s got their skeletons. Let’s not hold it against him. He’s out there living his best life.”
Noah chuckled, picking up his drink from the console. “Yeah, except he doesn’t want his pals down at the railroad to know. It’s pretty ironic, don’t you think?”
Callie glanced at him. “We all have our secrets and our past. Even you, Sutherland.”
Noah’s gaze turned distant, his thoughts consumed by the missing case.
The conversation fell into a comfortable silence as they continued their drive through the wintry landscape. Snowflakes danced in the air, a temporary respite before the storm. “So, any luck going through the files?”
Callie took a moment to collect her thoughts.
“Well, it seems like the investigation in the past primarily focused on the composites you and Jenna provided, along with another attempted abduction that occurred months later. The authorities created another composite for that which only seemed to muddy the waters of the investigation. Still, it’s surprising they didn’t make much headway since thousands of leads were coming in. ”
“Yeah, leads that went nowhere,” Noah said.
She ran a hand over her tired eyes. “True. There were no significant breakthroughs because of the time, technology, or lack thereof, but maybe we’ll get those answers now.”
Noah focused on the road ahead. “I still remember that night — the blue truck with the light bar. It felt like a promising lead at the time.” He glanced at her. “Did you uncover anything in her files about that truck?”
She leaned back in her seat. “According to the records, they interviewed everyone that night. They even obtained video footage from families there, but the truck was obscured, hidden behind other vehicles.”
Noah’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Yeah, they never did identify the owner or the make.”
Callie ran her hands over her legs. “Kind of hard. It wasn’t the best footage.
Grainy. Even when they blew up a still image from the video, it was tough to tell what make it was.
They thought it could have been a Dodge Dakota; others thought it was an ’80s Chevrolet.
Either way, they never found it. However, the interesting part is that Helen created a list of sixteen people who had reported seeing a blue truck.
Several of them were placed under hypnosis.
From those sessions, they managed to gain some partial license information.
They ran that information through the state system but got no record. ”
Noah sighed; the Sheriff’s Office’s past failings had been the talk of the town for several years until he left for the military. “Yeah, it’s like a truck vanished into thin air. If they couldn’t find it back then, I doubt there is much chance of finding it now. Too much time has elapsed.”
She tapped a finger in the air with a sparkle in her eye.
“You see, that’s where I think you might be wrong.
What if it was stolen from another state?
Maybe none of the four persons of interest owned it, so they didn’t focus on it.
We know at times that law enforcement gets tunnel vision.
Maybe it was a secondary vehicle kept out of state and specifically used for these purposes, hidden away in some garage or owned by a company. ”
Noah’s interest was piqued; a glimmer of hope broke through the dark cloud of his mind. “You think the truck still exists?”
“Who’s to say not?” she replied. “It could have been sold or ended up in a wrecker’s yard.”
“Yeah, trashed. Come on, Callie. It’s been over two decades.”
“Some folks like older models,” she replied. “I just think if we could locate it using the old license information from the hypnosis, we could cross-check it again with the persons of interest. For all we know, one of them could have sold it off.”
“Or painted it over,” he said.
“It’s worth checking, Noah.”
“Maybe. But I would hate to get tied up searching for something that doesn’t exist. At the time when the media was talking about this vehicle, it caused so much trouble.
Do you know how many blue trucks exist? No, the owner would have been crazy to try and sell it,” he said.
“It would have been traced back to him.”
“I agree. I think they would have kept it low-key at the time. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t dispose of it later once everything died down.
If they sold it at all. They may have sold it in a different state.
Now you might be right. It could be a metal block in a wrecker’s yard or melted down.
But you know as well as I do, law enforcement didn’t have the tools we do now, and they sure as hell didn’t communicate with other departments in different states, let alone counties.
I’m considering running that license information again in an NCIC offline search.
What do you think?” The National Crime Information Center was a valuable offline search tool that allowed law enforcement to search the records of wanted people, missing persons, anyone who might threaten the public, and stolen property items. Partial information from vehicles, like three or four characters from a plate, could be run, or half of a VIN, and produce hits.
“I know it’s a long shot, but it might lead us to new information or connections that were missed before.
Perhaps someone knows something but never came forward.
Or it may be the owner of that truck had nothing to do with it, and we can rule them out. ”
He nodded, feeling a flicker of hope at the prospect. “All right. Run the search and see what you can find. Meanwhile, we’ll speak to previous persons of interest, starting with Lucas Blackwood.”
The Bronco came to a halt near the entrance of Camp Eagle, nestled amidst the snowy banks and white landscape of the Adirondack Park Preserve.
They were immediately taken aback by how much of the peninsula it encompassed.
The camp itself was spread across the area.
Tall pine trees stood sentinel, their branches weighed down by white powder.
The camp’s wooden buildings and facilities were dotted strategically across the property, blending harmoniously with the natural surroundings.
There were several rustic cabins used for accommodating campers and staff.
“You think that’s him?” Callie asked, noting a tall, gruff man who reminded Noah of Grizzly Adams. He stood beside a snowmobile while another man worked on it with some tools.
As they slammed their doors, the two men glanced their way.
“Detectives.”
“Lucas Blackwood?”
“That would be me,” he said, trudging through the snow. “Just getting the snowmobiles out, hopefully for the last time this year. I’m just helping the staff get ready,” he said before extending a hand. Noah shook it. “Come, I’ll give you the tour.”