He opened Facebook and located the profile associated with the first name. Cody Ollenburger posted often and wasn’t touchy about privacy settings. After several minutes of scrolling, Luke found a picture from Father’s Day last year of two men who resembled each other, though separated by a few decades in age. In the post, Cody wrote about how much he appreciated his dad. He’d tagged only one person in the post.

Cliff Ollenburger. His father.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Shortly after dawn the next morning, Luke followed his GPS along a dirt road that carried him upward through dense forest toward the Ollenburger property. He’d expected to follow the address to a neighborhood, but this wasn’t that. He’d call these structures vacation cabins, not houses. As he continued, the cabins became fewer.

No streets connected this area directly to Vogel State Park. But as the crow flies, it was probably only about six miles from here to Blood Mountain. Ken and his brothers could have crossed that distance in an ATV in thirty to forty-five minutes.

He passed by Ollenburger’s address, taking a long look at the small, brown-shingled cabin set far back from the road. No cars parked there. No lights on.

After reading more of Cody and Cliff’s Facebook posts last night, he’d learned that Cliff and Stacy had moved to the Middle East for a year for Cliff’s job.

As soon as the road widened, he parked his truck, then doubled back on foot through the woods until he reached the structure. It appeared to be thirty or forty years old but had been kept up well.

Cupping his eyes against a window, he saw that the interior had been updated. Vacuum tracks marked the rug. A folded throw blanket rested over an armchair that looked new.

He moved to the next window and the next, peering in each one. He didn’t see a stash of gold bars. Then again, he hadn’t expected to. What he did see? A large gun safe spanning one wall of the second bedroom. Had Ken and his brothers borrowed hunting gear and semi-automatic guns from here? It seemed likely.

He went to the free-standing garage. A gap in the wood gave him a view of the odds and ends that surrounded a rectangle of empty floor space. The empty floor space was approximately the size of a four-seater ATV. To cover their tracks, Ken had probably moved the ATV used in the attack. But no doubt it was usually parked in this exact spot.

Luke turned and studied the backyard, hands on his hips.

A picnic table. A firepit. Lots of pine needles and a few fallen branches.

Taking his time, he walked forward.

His eyes narrowed. What was that?