The other two names McCain had given the sheriff came up with name matches but no exact matches based on the photos in the driver’s licenses. McCain thought about it for a few seconds. After looking at the Colorado map again, he had one more idea he thought might be worth checking out. He emailed Sheriff Armstrong to see if he could do it for him. The sheriff emailed back a few minutes later. He said it might take a day or so, but he’d check.
With that, McCain headed out into the early September heat to go do what he was paid to do. As hot as it was, he decided he’d head to the mountains and check some of the anglers up at Leech Lake, Dog Lake, and Clear Lake near White Pass. It would definitely be cooler up there. He envied Jack. He’d left him in the air-conditioned house. The big yellow dog was probably sprawled out sleeping on McCain’s bed at that very moment.
On his way up Highway 12, McCain thought about the woman he had seen with the cowboy that night on the sidewalk. He sure wished he had seen her face. And he hoped she was living a happy life wherever she was at this moment.
When McCain hit Rimrock Lake he slowed a bit as he drove by. There were a few boats out on the lake, but from what he could see they were all pulling skiers or tubers.
As he neared Indian Creek Corrals, McCain saw Ray Patterson out at the rails of one of the corrals, so he swung in for a minute. He rolled down the passenger window and Patterson walked over. Patterson was thin, about six feet tall, and wore cowboy boots and a t-shirt tucked into tight Wranglers. He had a little hitch in his giddy-up, most likely from his younger days team roping in the pro rodeo circuits.
“Hi, Luke,” Patterson said. “How’s the search for that serial killer going?”
“Kinda slow,” McCain said. “But I’m not too involved. Say, did you ever get paid for letting everyone use your horses that day those bones were found up the Twin Sisters trail?”
“Yep, paid in full,” Patterson said. “From the county too, which is a switch. Usually I’m sending them money.”
“That’s the truth,” McCain said.
The two men chewed the fat for a few more minutes. McCain asked how business had been, and Patterson said it had been a good summer so far.
“Lots of people are renting horses and going up and looking at the spot where the bones were found,” Patterson said. “That’s pretty creepy if you ask me, but hey, they’re renting my ponies, so I’m okay with it I guess.”
McCain said so long to Patterson and headed on up the highway, toward Dog Lake to check the anglers there.
On his way home he saw the silver Honda sitting in front of the grocery store in Naches. McCain now knew that Burke had lived in Colorado, not far from where the women went missing. He decided to stop in and chat with the cowboy again.
Just as he was pulling into the store’s parking lot, Burke was coming out with an armload of groceries.
McCain pulled up next to the Honda and got out.
“Hey, how’s the rafting going?”
“Good. Lots of people right now, what with the weather being so nice. The offer still stands if you’d like to try it.”
“You know what, I would. Would you have room for a friend of mine too?”
“I think we can make that happen. I can take you tomorrow or Sunday. Just give me a call.”
“Let me get your number, I’ll check with my friend, and we’ll get it all set up. I remember you saying you moved up here from Colorado. Did you whitewater guide down there as well?”
“No, I was basically a ski bum. I taught some ski lessons and did a little guiding on the streams in Northern Colorado. But it didn’t pay the bills, so I came up here where the grass was greener.”
“I’m envious,” McCain said.
“Yeah, well, let me know about the raft trip,” Burke said and climbed into the Honda and fired it up.
McCain watched him drive off and then called Sinclair.
“Hey, McCain. What’s up?” she said when she answered.
“What you got going tomorrow or Sunday?”
“Just gotta keep pushing on this case, why?”
“I think you need a break. I’ve set up a whitewater rafting trip for you and me. We just need to pick the day.”
“I guess I can make tomorrow work.”
“Okay, let me get the details, and I’ll text you a time. Maybe you can meet me at my house, and we’ll go from there.”
“Sounds great, thanks.”
McCain called Burke to get the meeting time and place. The float down the Tieton River only took about three hours, so they ran them in the afternoon on most days, according to Burke. He told McCain to meet the raft company bus at the Windy Point campground at noon. “And wear clothes you don’t mind getting wet,” the cowboy said. “See you tomorrow.”
McCain texted Sinclair to meet at his house at 11:15 and told her about the clothing suggestion. She arrived promptly at 11:15, dressed in gray shorts, a green Oregon Ducks t-shirt under an unbuttoned denim shirt, and a San Francisco 49’ers ball cap on.
“This should be fun. What made you think of it?”
“It will be fun,” McCain said. “But I have some ulterior motives.”
McCain went on to tell her his history with Chad Burke and about seeing the silver Honda up in the mountains not far from where one of the bodies was found back in the spring. And he told her about seeing Burke with a woman with long black hair in Naches. And most importantly, he told her about Burke’s past in Colorado, living near where the women went missing at the time they disappeared.
“I know it’s all circumstantial, but I thought you’d like to meet the guy.”
“Definitely,” she said. “If nothing else,
