***

Tara and Warren waited as the man behind the counter carefully searched for the victim’s name in the computer. They had just arrived at the main office of the camping grounds moments earlier and when Warren had mentioned the victim’s name, it immediately confirmed who they were.

“I spoke to police not that long ago. You guys are quick,” he said as he continued to search for the camping lot number that the victim was assigned.

Tara and Warren waited in silence. There was still an awkwardness lingering between them, but Tara knew it mainly stemmed from her. On the ride over, they barely spoke, and when they did, it was a result of Warren sparking the conversation. Each time he spoke, all she could think about was her panic attack, her nightmare, and the overwhelming feeling that it could all happen again; and it left her uncertain of how to act around him. But Tara also knew her hesitation toward anyone on this case would only do her more harm, and as she stood there, she reminded herself that she needed to move forward and focus on the case.

“She camped here only one night,” the man said as he scrolled through some information on the computer. “Three nights ago.”

“Do you remember checking her in?” Tara asked as she slid the image of the victim across the counter.

He looked down at it briefly and then his eyes darted up.

“Yeah, I remember checking her in.”

His confirmation stroked a strand of hope within Tara. “Did she mention anything to you? Maybe someone she met? Where she was going?”

But the man only shook his head as he directed his attention back to the computer.

“She was only in here a couple minutes. I assigned her a lot, she paid, and left. She didn’t mention anything to me.” He shrugged.

A cloud of disappointment swirled in Tara’s mind as the man leaned in a bit closer to the computer.

“Lot Four,” he said. “That’s where she stayed.”

Tara and Warren thanked him and were quickly out the door. It was a small camping ground of only about ten lots, each labeled in numerical order, and it didn’t take long for them to find where the victim stayed.

They quickly scanned the lot. It was a barren patch of dirt with a fire pit, and other than the gray ash and burnt wood, there was nothing to show the victim had stayed there. However, it was early morning and in the other lots, campers were still waking up, preparing breakfast or packing for their departure. She knew there was a chance that someone may have interacted with the victim.

“Let’s ask around,” Tara said as her eyes fell upon a man in the lot directly next to them, sitting next to a fire.

Warren followed her gaze. “We’ll start with him,” he replied as he began to walk toward him.

Tara tailed behind and as they moved closer, she could see the man, with a scruffy beard, pouring a pot of boiling water into a coffee drip over his cup. When done, he looked up in surprise.