Already, this had the hallmarks of a Very Bad Idea, in my humble opinion.
“This is Raymond, after all.” Her evident pride shone through. “Nothing bad ever happens here.” She took pity on the wad of paper and discarded it. “Until recently.” She carried on. “I stumbled across the Amherst teens pretending to cast spells.” Another chip bit the dust. “What do they call it? Some kind of club. A fantasy, make-believe thing.” She shook her empty drink. “Probably Harry Potter.”
A lot of parents blamed Harry Potter for, well, everything. The list was long, and my time was short.
“LARPing, I believe.”
“That’s it.” She awarded me a curt nod. “God only knows what that stands for.”
I could spell it out, but I knew it didn’t matter. She wanted someone to agree with her, not correct her.
“Did they see you?” I pressed. “Say anything to you?”
“No.” She tossed her cup in the bin. “I saw them first and hid behind a tree, then I backed away slowly.”
If what Colby saw was accurate, that bit of luck probably saved her life.
“Can you tell me where this occurred?”
“Just in the woods.” Her expression cleared. “There was a stump, now that I think about it, but trees are trees.” She caught my look. “Lynn Amherst is passionate about the preservation of the picoides borealis. Or she was.” Her interest in her snack waned. “She found a mated pair nesting in those woods and policed them vigorously. Of course, she’s dead now, and her son couldn’t have cared less about the red-cockaded woodpecker. Those kids of his run wild through the woods without Lynn around to keep them in check. I doubt there’s a pecker to be found on the property.”
Oh, what Clay wouldn’t give for an opening like that. “Does anyone else go into the woods?”
“Plenty of old-timers like me. We used to have a bird-watching club, but most of us have died off.”
“Um.” I struggled for a response. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Why all the interest?” She dipped her finger in the cheese. “You looking to put down roots?”
“I’m FBI.” I flashed her my badge. “My partner and I are investigating a string of arsons.”
“Huh.” She licked her finger clean. “I figured that was more of an ATF thing.”
The Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms was more likely, under the right circumstances, but I had a patch ready for the hole in my story.
“The missing persons case is our main interest.”
Though we had already solved that portion, thanks, unfortunately, to Colby.
“That makes more sense.” She turned to the printer. “Sign here, and I’ll get your keys.”
We finished the deal with the usual chitchat about where to eat and what to do in town.
The list for both was short, which made it easier to remember and narrowed our suspect pool.
Out at the SUV, I gave Clay the paperwork and keycard then fetched his and Colby’s essentials.
“I got it.” He took them from me. “You guys head out so you can get in place before full dark.”
A prickle at the base of my neck warned me we were being watched, but I figured it was Myrtle.
“We need to see you in, actually.” I led the way. “I have to use the bathroom.”
The guys exchanged a weighted glance then followed me up and waited as I reclaimed the keycard and barged into the room. There wasn’t much to recommend it, but it was clean and smelled nice.
“I had a chat with the lady who checked us in,” I told them. “She was eyeballing us on our way up.”
“Anything to worry about?” Asa tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Or just curiosity?”