After doing a second circuit of the barn, she eyed the narrow dirt road nearby and conjured up an image of the summertime aerial view of the property that had been in her County briefing packet. If her memory was correct, part of the land abutted the state highway.

This must be the back entrance to school property Zeke had referenced.

She set off down the rutted one-lane drive, and within three minutes caught a glimpse of blacktop.

Yep. State highway.

She followed the track until the entrance came into view. A sturdy gate blocked access—and a security camera mounted in the tree adjacent to it and aimed toward the road would record any visitors.

Zeke had said the drug ring people had a key—but how were they getting past the camera undetected?

She retraced her steps to the barn and bent to examine the padlock on the door.

It was fastened tight, and there was no sign it had ever been picked—adding credence to Zeke’s contention that someone on the inside was facilitating the drops and pickups.

Someone who could be in contact with the mastermind. Know their identity.

Given the magnitude of drugs involved in a Mexican cartel pipeline, it was no wonder the DEA had decided an undercover operation was worth a try to find the head honcho.

Zeke’s case was a big deal.

But she had her own investigation to worry about—and it was a big deal for the two missing teens and their families.

Time to refocus on her purpose for braving the cold today.

Although more trips would be required to complete a rough grid search, a cursory inspection of the area around the barn was doable.

She straightened up from the lock, brushed the dust off her coat, and headed back toward the window that may have been pried open.

If Stephanie and her boyfriend had met here for romantic rendezvous, odds were they’d have preferred to find an indoor spot to get cozy, away from nocturnal prowlers of a four-legged nature.

The barn could have served that purpose.

Since only the road was blocked off, it was possible the boyfriend had pulled into a nearby drive on the other side of the rural highway, tucked his car into the woods, and hiked up to the barn out of sight of the camera.

Had County reviewed and kept a copy of all of Ivy Hill’s security footage from the night of the disappearance?

Likely, but nevertheless a question worth asking.

If they hadn’t, however, it was no doubt long gone. Most homes and businesses recorded until their storage was full, then overwrote the oldest footage. Thirty days was often the maximum retention for businesses, a few days for home systems. After more than two months, any video recorded on the night Stephanie went missing would be—

Whoa!