Cloaked in a blanket, Tatum was alone at the edge of the lot, watching the dog and other police officers. Nearby, the two canned drinks still stood. Untouched. Only now, they were corralled in an area Hardy had cordoned off with yellow tape—isolated, as if part of a museum exhibit display: And here we have the last items Samantha Moore touched.

“Kevin?”

Tatum turned.

“Rod Noble, Vermont State Police. Let’s talk.”

Lines of anguish and exhaustion pressed deep into Tatum’s face. His eyes were dark pools of helplessness. As Tatum related everything, Noble listened, nodding occasionally while making notes.

In 10 years as a detective, Noble had achieved one of VSP’s highest clearance rates and had refined his skill of reading people. Throughout the interview, he studied Tatum’s tone, expressions, body language. He scrutinized every answer, purposely asking the same questions in different ways until he was satisfied. Before winding down the interview, he went over a few areas yet again.

“To be clear,” Noble said, “Sam takes no medication and is not under a doctor’s care, or a psychologist’s care?”

“Yes.”

“And this is completely out of character?”

“Yes. She left her phone, her wallet. All she took was her room key to go a few feet to get us drinks, and there they are.” Tatum looked at the two cans. “It’s like she just vanished off the face of the earth.” Tatum’s voice broke; he brushed at his eyes. “Did you find blood or something in the back near the canned drinks? Is she hurt?”

“Take it easy, Kevin. We’ve got a lot of people working on a lot of things to find her.” Noble waved over another Orleans deputy. “You wait in the motel office, all right?” Noble closed his notebook. “Have some coffee, something to eat. We’ll get back to you after I see to a few matters.”

Noble joined other investigators and searchers who’d arrived, glad that Hardy had done the smart thing to preserve and protect a potential crime scene. It was too early to clearly define this young woman’s case. But one thing was certain—it was suspicious, and they had to consider anything and everything as evidence, whether physical items or witness statements. Noble had to assume criminal intent and work accordingly while they searched for Samantha Moore.

Still, something pricked at Noble. Something in a distant corner of his mind that he couldn’t isolate, something that made him uneasy.

A local volunteer team of firefighters, hunters, and guides familiar with the area had launched a hasty search. A call also went out to the State Police Search and Rescue Unit, and upwards of 10 members had arrived to lead an organized search.