Not a lot of cameras in the immediate area. Those that existed yielded nothing. It was the same refrain: either the equipment was broken or malfunctioning, or the tapes or CD had been erased or changed out.

If you would have come sooner …

“What now?” McAdams asked.

Decker was clearly running out of options. “I want to check the main road between Tobacco’s Road and Elsie’s place and see if we can find evidence of a struggle.”

“A struggle that’s months old.”

“I’m sure we won’t find anything, Tyler. It’s a long shot. But let’s try.”

They went back to the last place where Pauline and Baer had been seen together. There, they consulted the map and began on foot along the two-lane motorway that was the most direct route from the bar to Elsie Schulung’s house. No sidewalks, with greenery on either side of the asphalt trail. The planting was thick with shrubbery and trees, providing a barrier for the residential areas behind the road. The street wasn’t that busy, but it wasn’t devoid of cars either.

McAdams tripped on a tree root but caught his balance. He was constantly looking down because the ground’s detritus—leaves, rocks, and dirt—hid lots of things. “If a bear shits in the woods, odds are I’ll step on it.” A pause. “What are we looking for?”

“Can’t tell you, but if I see it, I’ll know it.”

“That makes one of us. It’s getting hot.”

“You’ll survive,” Decker said.

“Someone’s grumpy.”

“Someone is constantly complaining about an hour round-trip walk,” Decker said. “Count it as your daily exercise.” His eyes were constantly scanning the area as well as sweeping over the ground. He took out his phone.

McAdams asked, “Who are you calling?”

“Quay.” The line connected and the sergeant answered on the third ring. Decker put the phone on speaker so McAdams could hear. “Hey, it’s Pete Decker here.”

“Hey, Pete. What’s up?”

“We’re leaving soon.”

“Find anything?”

“Nah, not really,” Decker said. “Did the BOLO go out this morning for Brock Baer?”

“Put it in as soon as I got here.”

“Great,” Decker said. “From my records and research, it doesn’t appear that Baer owns a car. Can you double-check for me?”

“Checked this morning. He has a driver’s license with an old address in the Philadelphia area. I couldn’t find any registered vehicle assigned to him. But he could be living anywhere and could be driving anything.”

“One of Baer’s former girlfriends lives in Albuquerque. Maybe we should call the local police and see if his name sounds familiar to them.”

“Sure, you can do that,” Quay said. “Let me know if you come up with anything.”