Page 9 of The Catcher (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #5)

“ T hat’s a GC code,” Sam said confidently as he leaned back from the cell phone photo Noah had taken earlier. He crossed his arms, his eyes drifting from Noah to McKenzie across the table in the interview room.

The room itself was dimly lit, the fluorescent bulbs overhead buzzed. The walls were painted a dull beige, adorned only with a few nondescript certificates and a clock that seemed to tick away with a deliberate sluggishness. The air was stale and heavy with the scent of old coffee.

After gathering what information he could from the scene, Noah headed to the Adirondack Sheriff’s Office. Stuck inside this overly heated and cramped interview room, he felt the walls closing in on him. It wasn’t just the physical space that felt confining; it was the weight of the investigation .

“You okay?” McKenzie’s voice broke through Noah’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

“I just need a glass of water,” Noah replied, his voice slightly hoarse. “Excuse me,” he added, skirting back his chair. It screeched against the linoleum floor before he dashed out of the room.

Hurrying over to a water dispenser stationed in the hallway, Noah filled a cup, watching as bubbles rose inside the plastic container. He tossed back the water in one swift motion, the cool liquid providing a momentary reprieve from the room’s stifling atmosphere.

Feeling a need to collect himself, Noah pushed into the nearby washroom, the door creaking open under his touch. He went over to the sink, turned a faucet on, and splashed cold water over his face, letting it drip down his skin in rivulets.

The door opened again, and McKenzie entered, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.

With water dripping down his face, Noah nodded, his breaths coming in measured exhales. He grabbed a handful of paper towels, hastily wiping his face as he met McKenzie’s gaze in the mirror. “What?” Noah asked.

“Listen, I’m not one to piss on anyone’s parade as I’m far from a saint, but I recognize those shakes,” McKenzie said, his voice low but firm.

“What shakes?” Noah asked, his brows furrowing in confusion as he searched his colleague’s face for any hint of understanding.

McKenzie grabbed Noah’s wrist and held it up. Noah’s hand trembled, a subtle but undeniable sign of inner turmoil. The cramped washroom provided little solace from the weight of their conversation.

“Now, I know you don’t have Parkinson’s, but I know you’ve had trouble with liquor in the past. Shaky hands, sweating, anxiety, yep, all the withdrawal signs I had at one time.”

Noah pulled his wrist away, his movements jittery. “I’ve got a handle on it.”

“I’m sure you do,” McKenzie replied, his expression sympathetic.

“Don’t say anything to Savannah. Okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” McKenzie assured him. Stepping closer, he offered Noah a supportive hand. “Look, if you need me to question them. And you want to take a break…”

“I don’t,” Noah interrupted. “I’m sorry. I mean, thank you, but I’ll be okay. I just needed a minute.” He exhaled, his gaze flickering briefly to the mirror before he straightened his tie and approached the door.

Back in the interview room, Sam had a hand cupped to the one-way mirror. “Someone in there?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” Noah replied, his mind still reeling from his conversation with McKenzie.

“Kind of makes me feel like a lab rat.”

“Me too,” Noah added. He motioned for Sam to take a seat, his emotions churning beneath the surface as he struggled to maintain a professional demeanor. “Please. Let’s continue.”

“I’ll stand if you don’t mind,” he replied. “Look, I’m not sure what else I can tell you that I haven’t already told those assholes over at DEC. Which, I might add, could use a lesson in manners.”

“I’ve heard,” Noah said, thinking of Callie’s words. He glanced at Isabella.

“Listen, aren’t we supposed to have a lawyer here?” Sam asked.

“You aren’t under arrest,” Noah said. “You’re free to go anytime you want.”

“I know, but…”

“Do you need one?” McKenzie asked.

“No. We don’t have anything to hide,” Isabella said, glancing at Sam. “Do we?” she asked. Sam shook his head before exhaling hard and reaching for a can of pop.

Noah looked down at the statement taken by the DEC ranger. “So it says you were out there to go geocaching.”

“Well, not exactly that,” Sam said, tapping his foot. “I was planning on proposing, and well, the whole thing got screwed up.”

“Aye, I’d say it did,” McKenzie said, unable to hide a smile.

Noah continued. “This geocache container. You told us that the contents had changed from the day before. Explain.”

“There is not much to explain. The day before, a logbook was inside a plastic bag for folks to sign and date. Usually, there is some swag, like little gifts and whatever, but I couldn’t be bothered with that when I made it.”

“So you created this?” Noah asked.

“Yeah. Years ago, back when I was into it. ”

“What?” Isabella said, turning in her seat. “You told me you were still doing it?”

“I am. I mean. Well, that’s because you said you were into outdoor things.”

“Oh, so you lied to me?”

“No. Yes. Um.” Sam groaned. “It’s not like that. I just thought I would take something you love and something I used to love and combine it, but I guess I screwed that up as well,” he said before sighing.

There was a pause. Noah glanced at McKenzie, who seemed to find it all amusing.

“You were thinking of me?” Isabella said.

Sam nodded; his gaze fixed on the table.

Isabella’s face seemed to melt as she reached for his hand. “That’s so sweet.”

McKenzie leaned over and whispered in Noah’s ear. “I think I threw up in my mouth.”

Noah cleared his throat. “Back to the matter at hand. So the lock of hair, the key, the faucet, and the note about the gadget weren’t there?”

“No, not when I placed the ring the day before. That geocache is traditional — a single place you could visit, not a multi.”

“So there are two types?”

“Two?” Sam laughed. “Add another eighteen to that. Earth, mystery, event, virtual, webcam, the list goes on. There are lots of types of geocaches out there, all over the world. I was telling Isabella about that.” He paused and squinted at them.

“Are you telling me you two don’t know what they are?

” He got this smirk on his face. “Huh! Well, shit. I finally know something someone else doesn’t. Look at that!”

“Yeah, look at that,” McKenzie growled. The smile was gone from his face.

McKenzie didn’t like young people acting as if they knew more.

That’s because he wasn’t a father. Parents eventually reached a point where their kids rattled off things that made them feel out of the loop.

It wasn’t just normal; it was the cycle of life.

“What time did you place the ring the day before?” McKenzie asked.

“Early morning. About ten. I was back home by eleven.”

“So the gadget wasn’t a part of this?” Noah asked.

Sam shook his head. “I couldn’t be bothered with doing all of that, but it’s kind of cool, though.”

“You mentioned the GC code earlier, Sam. Can you explain how that gives us the coordinates to the second stage?”

“Well, it does and it doesn’t. Usually, when a geocache says it will give you the coordinates, it’s GPS coordinates.

A series of numbers. However, look, it’s probably easier for me to show you.

” He took out his phone and brought up the Geocaching app.

“Okay, that’s Adirondack County. Here’s High Peaks.

You see all those icons all over the screen: green, orange, question marks, etc.

Well, each one of those represents a hidden geocache. ”

“Well, it’s not exactly hidden; it’s right there,” McKenzie said.

“Yes and no. Some of the caches aren’t at the posted coordinates.

Mystery caches, for instance, are like that.

They usually require some research to solve a puzzle before they give you the coordinates to the cache.

Okay, see this green one. That’s mine. I named it INTO THE WILD.

That’s the one out in the High Peaks Wilderness.

Now when I published that, a page was created.

” He clicked on the green icon, and it took them to a white page with information.

“This is essentially the geocache page. You can see my GC code below the title. At the bottom, if I click this, it will open in a browser so you can see the GC code in the URL, too.” He clicked it.

“The posted GPS coordinates are always listed here or under the app. You reach it by going under Waypoints and clicking the name of my geocache. Basically, whether they give you the GPS coordinates or the GC code, you are still getting directions to the location of the geocache. So you replace my GC code in the URL with the one the gadget gave you, and you’ll know the second stage location.

” Sam pulled his phone away, shaking his head.

“I’d like to know who screwed up my geocache and put that gadget and note in there.

You’re not supposed to do that. It’s against the guidelines.

You can’t change someone else’s geocache into your own. ”

“Put that app on my phone,” Noah said, giving Sam his phone. “And punch that GC code in to bring up the page.” He waited as Sam tapped at blistering speeds. Mia was the same — all thumbs. For him, it was another story — all typos.

Sam turned his phone around. “Huh, well, that figures.”

“What does?”

“The coordinates point to another traditional over at the ski place on Whiteface Mountain. I’ve been to that one before. Hell, I’ve been to most of these in town.”

“So is that your geocache?”

“The one on the mountain? No. You can see who published it right here,” he said, pointing to a name beside the words: Placed By: Itsahoot2

Noah looked at it, got up, and left the room. McKenzie was in his shadow. “What do you think?”

“I may be way off-base on this, but you heard him; those items weren’t there before.

Sure, someone else could have left them, but I’m almost certain that lock of hair will come back as belonging to the Matthews girl.

She’s alive. Our sub is trying to tell us she’s alive.

Whoever this asshole is, I think they are using other people’s geocaches to play a game,” Noah said.

“We need to get to the second stage and fast.”