The Night Killer

boyfriend found that out too.”
    “How did he and the girl know where to look?” said Diane. “Rendell County is a wide area of rugged, mountainous terrain. You could spend a decade there and never come across the spot.”
    “They began by going straight to the center of it all—the Barres. I learned that the Barres did speak with them. But I think they pretty much blew the kid off—politely, but I gather they thought he was a crackpot and it was a crazy story.”
    “The Barres didn’t know the story of the lost mine?” asked Diane.
    “It seems not, which I find strange. I imagine the boyfriend did too,” he said. “Probably thought they were lying.”
    “Did the Barres tell him about the diaries?” said Diane.
    “No. Cora Nell Dickson told him. I’m sure that’s one of the reasons he went to visit the Barres. Mrs. Dickson thought there was just one diary. That’s what she told him. She knew about it from her father, but that was from when he was young. There probably was only one then,” he said. “In the national park I found the campsite of my girl and the boyfriend.”
    “How do you know it was their campsite?” asked Diane.
    “I found items belonging to them. The site was pretty much trashed—looked like animals. But I found a piece of paper with some notes written on it, a kind of to- do list, caught in the underbrush. It was badly damaged by the weather. Most of the writing was washed out or torn away. The part I could read mentioned the Barre diary.”
    “Do you have the paper?” said Diane.
    “Yes, but that’s all there was on it,” he said.
    “That’s all you could see,” said Diane.
    “Well, yes,” he said.
    “We might be able to discover things on it not visible to the naked eye,” she said.
    “That’s right, you have a crime lab here. You think you might be able to bring out more of the writing?” he said.
    “Possibly. At the crime lab or the museum’s conservation laboratory. Take your pick,” she said. “We work a lot with restoring old documents.”
    He shifted to one side in his seat and pulled his billfold from his pocket. He opened it and pulled out a weathered piece of paper stored alongside his bills and handed it to Diane.
    She raised her brow. “You kept it in your wallet?” she said.
    “Yes.”
    Diane took out an acid- free envelope from her desk, wrote on it, and slipped the paper inside.
    “What do you think happened to them?” she said.
    Liam breathed in and out deeply and was quiet a moment. “I think they’re most likely dead,” he said.
    “Why?” said Diane.
    “They haven’t been heard from in six weeks now. I know they went to the university library here in Rosewood and copied several geologic maps. I think it was to locate caves and abandoned mines in the area.”
    He glanced over at the picture of Diane hanging by a rope, descending into the vertical entrance to a cave.
    “Is that you?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she said.
    “Andie said you are a world-class caver,” he said.
    “Andie exaggerates,” said Diane.
    He brought his gaze back to Diane.
    “Does she? But you are an experienced caver?” he said.
    “Yes.”
    “My client’s daughter and her boyfriend were not. In fact, they weren’t cavers at all. What happens to inexperienced people who go exploring caves?” he said. “Or abandoned mines?”
    “They frequently need to be rescued, and they sometimes die,” said Diane. “Is that what you think happened to them?”
    “It makes sense,” he said.
    Diane had to agree. But the possibility also ran through her mind that, depending on when they became lost, they could still be alive—somewhere underground—in need of rescue.
    “What were you doing out in the woods in the dead of night?” she said. “I don’t believe you were photographing nocturnal animals.”
    “No. I was camping near where my client’s daughter had camped and, just as I said, I did see your light and hear the dogs and was curious. And I do have an uncle who raises Walker hounds.”
    “How did you find their campsite?” asked Diane. “The national park is a big place.”
    “Well, the first lead was a credit card charge where they gassed up the boyfriend’s motorcycle at a convenience store in Rendell County. I talked with the clerk there. She didn’t remember them, but I know from the girl’s credit card records that they were there.”
    “How do you know it was his motorcycle?” said Diane.
    “The tag number was on the charge