I need to follow this up and confirm things. Can’t leave any loose ends.

“You live across the street from the Green Rolling Hills Inn, Mr. Houghton?”

“That’s correct.”

“We tried to contact you on the following dates,” Noble said, listing canvass report dates. “It was in relation to the missing-person case of Samantha Moore.”

“We weren’t home on those dates.”

“Where were you?”

“My wife and I were on a cruise for several months.”

“Can you confirm that?”

Taken aback, Houghton took a moment.

“You want me to confirm that we’ve been away?”

“It’s a matter of routine for the investigation, and given your proximity to the motel, it would be helpful.”

“I see.” Houghton thought. “We have passport stamps, our cruise tickets, receipts, photos, that sort of thing.”

“And would you be able to provide us copies?”

“Copies? Is it really necessary?”

“Our investigation is ongoing, and we want to be thorough. I’m sure you understand.”

“Yes, I do. We can do that.”

“Thank you. Call us when you have them. I can arrange for someone to pick them up and talk to you and your wife further.”

“All right.”

“But while I have you, just a few more questions,” Noble said. “In the time before your cruise, do you recall, or did your wife mention, seeing anything unusual in your neighborhood? Any strangers, strange vehicles, anyone knocking on your door asking for directions? Anything out of the ordinary, no matter how trivial?”

Houghton thought for a moment.

“No, not really. I mean, people come and go at the motel and the restaurant. Other than that, nothing unusual.”

Another dead end, Noble thought tapping his pen on his pad.

“Okay, so just to confirm. You and your wife were absent on the dates in question?”

“Yes.”

“Was anyone house-sitting for you?”

“No, but our brother-in-law checked on the house every week or so for insurance purposes.”

“And do you have security cameras?”

“No. It’s Spiritsburg. We’re a friendly village. All I have is my bird cam.”

“Your bird cam?”

“Yes. It’s in a birdhouse overlooking our yard and the motel.”

CHAPTER 30

Spiritsburg, Vermont

Twenty minutes later, Noble was pushing his SUV well over the speed limit heading southbound on Interstate 91, while working to keep his optimism in check.

This bird cam will probably lead to nothing.

Noble consoled himself with the more concrete aspects of the investigation that were unfolding. They were still working on the light configurations on the mystery vehicle that had stalked Moore—plodding through the pool of possibilities, reducing the numbers. And they were still awaiting results of the additional DNA analysis.

Still, the way Houghton had explained his camera’s positioning and features gave Noble reason to believe he was on track for a potential break in the case.

Upon arriving at the Houghtons’ home, George, a retired professor of wildlife biology from the University of Vermont, elaborated.