9
Stride needed a flashlight to make his way to the Deeps. He swept the beam back and forth across the trail. Cat followed him, staying close enough that she could hang on to his belt. When they reached the cliff, wind howled through the gorge and the river rumbled with the low, angry growl of a tiger.
“You and Curt were up here?” Stride asked her.
Her voice was subdued. “Yes.”
“Jumping?”
She didn’t answer right away, and he waited without saying anything more.
“We jumped once,” she admitted finally.
Stride pointed at the wild rapids. “Do you know how easy it would have been for one or both of you to have been swept away and drowned? Do you know how many times in my life I’ve had to pull bodies out of the lake because they went diving in this place?”
“I’m sorry.” Then she zeroed in on his hypocrisy, the way she always did. “You used to jump here, didn’t you? You and Steve?”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
Cat didn’t rub it in, but they both knew she’d chalked up a victory. Every generation had to make its own mistakes. His father had warned him about the Deeps when he was fifteen, and he hadn’t listened either.
“Did you see anyone else while you were here?” Stride asked.
Cat shook her head. “No one.”
“Nobody crossed the pedestrian bridge? You didn’t see anyone in the woods on the other side of the river?”
“No, we were alone the whole time.”
“What about when you were down by the water?”
“Well, somebody had to be up here,” Cat said, “because that’s where they took the picture. But I didn’t see anyone.”
Stride shined his flashlight around the rocks. He illuminated the crevices and checked the dirt for muddy footprints. When he found nothing, he hiked back to the pedestrian bridge over the river. The rough gravel showed no evidence of anyone coming or going.
“Let’s go back to your car,” Stride said.
They retraced their steps to where Cat’s car was parked on the fringe of Seven Bridges Road. Max Guppo was there, along with a uniformed officer, examining the scene. Stride sent Cat across the street to wait in his Expedition, and then he gestured to Guppo. The oversized detective waddled up to him and offered a sympathetic smile. Guppo, who had five daughters, was familiar with the challenges of raising teenage girls.
“Find anything, Max?” Stride asked.
Guppo held up a plastic evidence bag that contained a can of green spray paint. “The guy left this behind. We can run it for prints and see if we get lucky, but I don’t think he’s going to make it easy for us.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, look at this.” Guppo showed Stride another bag, which contained a crushed, muddy mass of blue plastic.
“What’s that?”
“Shoe covers,” Guppo told him. “That’s why he didn’t leave any footprints we can distinguish. Normally the mud would give us some clear tracks, but not this time. And the fact that he left them behind for us to find? I think it’s kind of like sticking up a middle finger. He knew we’d be looking.”
“This guy knows Cat lives with cops,” Stride said.
“Could be.”
“What about tire tracks?”
“Nothing so far. He probably parked on the road. We’ll talk to the neighbors to see if they remember any cars, but kids park out here all the time.”
“Thanks for jumping on this, Max. I know there’s not a lot we can do, but this feels like more than just some creepy fan. I want to know who’s doing this.”
“We’ll do everything we can, boss.”
“I appreciate it.” Stride put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He’d worked with Guppo since the day he joined the Duluth police thirty years earlier. “And you know that at this particular moment I’m not your boss, right? I’m just a concerned citizen.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Stride smiled at him. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and headed across the road to his truck. Cat sat inside in the passenger seat. She didn’t look at him as he climbed behind the wheel. For an eighteen-year-old, she had the immature face of a little girl again, although Stride had learned through experience not to trust Cat’s girlish looks. He reached out and gently tugged on her chin and turned her face toward him.
“Hey,” he said. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”
“I guess.”
“I know this is scary.”
“Yeah, a little.”
“Don’t worry about your Civic. I’ve got a buddy at a garage who can take care of it. After Guppo is done with it, he’ll get it towed and cleaned up. You should have it back by the end of the week.”
“Thanks.”
Stride gestured at the phone in Cat’s hands. “I need to see the picture.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Cat, I don’t care what it shows. The angle of the photo is important, and we may be able to get metadata off the image that will tell us who sent it.”
“I don’t want a bunch of cops staring at my tits.”
“I’ll make sure it’s only women doing the analysis,” Stride said.
“I don’t want you seeing it either.”
Stride took a deep breath. “Okay. You can hand your phone off to Serena when you get home, and she can work with one of the women on the CSI team. No men involved at all. How about that?”
“I suppose.”
“Let’s talk about who could be doing this to you,” Stride said.
“I have no idea.”
“Do you still have the envelope and the photograph that was sent to you with the green marker on it?”
Cat nodded. “It’s at home.”
“You should have shown that to me immediately.”
“Dr. Steve had just died. I didn’t want to bother you. I told you, I get weird stuff sometimes. Most of it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Well, this one crosses the line way beyond weird stuff, Cat. Particularly if you think someone broke into our house and was in your room. That kind of obsession is dangerous. I’m not saying that to scare you. I just want you to appreciate the seriousness of it.”
“I do now,” she said.
“Okay, then let me ask you again. Do you have any idea who might be behind this?”
“I really don’t, Stride.”
“This photograph you got. The one with the local postmark and the green marker. Have you received anything similar to that before? It doesn’t matter whether or not it was local. Have there been any letters, pictures, threats, anything that could have come from the same person?”
“I don’t think so. This one was different. It felt different. It wasn’t like the others.”
“How so?”
“I’m not sure. It just felt more real.”
“I want to go through all of the mail you’ve received,” Stride said. “There could be something you missed.”
“I toss most of the porn crap and the hate mail,” Cat told him.
Stride frowned. “From now on, don’t do that. When you get anything like that, show me. Or show Serena. And we’ll still need to go through whatever you have, even the seemingly innocent letters. There could still be something in there.”
“Yeah, all right.”
“Whoever is doing this knows things about you, Cat. He showed up here tonight. Who knew you were getting together with Curt?”
“Nobody.”
“Did you notice anyone following you?”
“No, but I don’t think I would have.”
“Have there been any strange cars parked near our house lately?”
“I don’t know. I mean, a lot of tourists go up and down the Point. There are always different cars around.”
“Have you met anyone lately who took an unusual interest in you?” Stride asked. “Even if it was a very brief encounter. It could have been entirely random for you, but not for them. Has anyone made you feel uncomfortable?”