Hardy nodded, then used his shoulder microphone to update his dispatcher, indicating he’d put out a description of Samantha Moore. He then unholstered his flashlight and went to the back lot, raking his beam over the pavement.

The telltale cans stood untouched as a lonely testament to the mystery.

Hardy scoured the perimeter of the lot, going some 10 yards into the brush that bordered it, until he’d searched the entire edge. Suicide? he wondered. Possibly. A bear attack? Unlikely. Still, rare but possible. No signs of a struggle. She left her phone, her wallet, and took the motel key—left the urn with her mother’s ashes. Nothing adds up.

Coming back to the lot, Hardy climbed up the side of a dumpster, directed his light into it, illuminating take-out containers, newspapers, cans, bottles, and little else.

Nothing here.

He swept his light over the pavement. No vehicles. Deserted. Nothing but the cans, oil and fluid stains. Some dried mud puddles.

A small patch glistened not far from the cans.

Wet? Something recent?

Blinking, Hardy went to investigate, lowering himself, directing his light on the palm-sized damp island on the ground.

That looks like blood.

He repositioned himself, got on his knees, drew his face within inches of it. Something fine caught the light, something stuck and waving in the breeze from the wet patch.

A single strand of long, brown hair.

Hardy reached for his radio.

CHAPTER 5

Near the Cold Hollow Mountains, Vermont

Panting, tail wagging, snout to the ground, Stark, a German shepherd, led his handler, an Orleans deputy K-9 officer, in and out of the woods behind the Green Rolling Hills Inn.

It was now morning, and 10 hours since Samantha Moore had been reported missing. During the night, Orleans County had requested that Vermont State Police assume the investigation because it had more resources, and because the disappearance had disturbing elements.

Detective Sergeant Rod Noble, with VSP Major Crimes, was assigned to the case. He got the call while dropping off his daughter at school. He never even made it into Derby Barracks.

Noble had driven directly to Spiritsburg, taking and making calls between hits of coffee from his commuter mug. Forty-five minutes after the call, he met Orleans County Deputy Austin Hardy in the motel parking lot.

“I don’t know what we’ve got here,” Hardy said after briefing Noble.

Noble watched the county dog do its work as more help arrived.

“It’s too early to draw conclusions,” Noble said, looking to Kevin Tatum in the distance. “Go home and get some sleep, Austin. I’ve got to talk to him.”