The Online Geocacher
Your Free User-Created Ezine for All Things Geocaching

Wed, Aug 6, 2008

Detective Byrd had called Captain Wilde to get things moving in Nassau County. They would need assistance from the Nassau County Sheriff’s office, since the Wildlife Management Area was their turf. It was in a remote area of the county at the heart of a stand of planted pine that went on for miles. Though not always apparent from the highway, much of Northeast Florida was just a big tree farm. They would probably need some help from the Florida Highway Patrol as well.

"When are we heading up to Nassau County?" Littlepage asked.

"It's almost dark now. Doesn't look like we'll be able to start much of a search until morning," Byrd answered.

"You think they'll still be there in the morning?"

"Whether they are or not, we'll need to search the area. Who knows what they were doing there."

"We know they were caching," Littlepage pointed out.

"That bloody shoe says that isn't all they were doing. The DNA came back positive for the Wade girl. Juries LOVE blood evidence."

"So Serial Finder's our guy."

"Seems so, but we don't know squat about this Joe Merchant guy. Is he part of it, or just along for the ride?"

"Well," began Littlepage, "you're right there. We're not even sure we know his name. We had a couple of uniforms working the area where we found the Tracker and they found the house where Serial Finder apparently hooked up with him."

"Joe Merchant's?"

"Not exactly. The Property Appraiser has it as owned by 'JM Advisors, Inc.,' but according to some Geocachers they interviewed, it's Joe Merchant’s house. The coordinates are apparently part of a puzzle cache. According to the DMV, there are two vehicles titled the same way at that address. A minivan that's in the driveway and a Jeep Grand Cherokee that's not."

"We get a bulletin out on that?"

"Absolutely. The Fish & Wildlife Service has been alerted, too."

"The neighbors know this guy's real name?" Byrd asked.

"Nope. Just called him Joe. And we can't find any Drivers license listed at that address under that or any other name. And nothing on JM Advisors so far."

"Wonderful. Is he hiding from something? Do we have a team of killers here, like in the Night Stalker case out in LA?"

"We've got nothing to connect him, other than the fact that Serial Finder hooked up with him."

"And he's a Geocacher."

"Technically, so are we, so that doesn't say much," said Littlepage.

"Let's get that lawyer, Gina Broudy, on the phone. She's gotta have an idea where her client is."

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"Wildlife Management Area?" Maddy asked, "Is that a State Forest or something?"

"Not really," Mark explained, "It's actually just a tree farm owned by a big lumber company. They allow hunting on it, so it's a Wildlife Management area. Probably some kind of tax break thing. I don't know. I don't think we're even still in it, though. I think this is private land."

"But we're in Nassau County?"

"Yes," Joe answered, "way out in the boonies of Nassau County. Are you that girl from the truck stop? Maggie or something?"

"Maddy actually, Maddy Wade. Truck stop?" she nodded, "That's the last thing I remember. Someone attacked me there."

"It's all over the news that you're missing," Mark explained.

"Thank you Amy!" she shouted and explained, "That's my sister. She must've reported me missing. How did you guys find me?"

"We were walking by and we're pretty sure we heard a toilet flush," Said Joe.

"We put two and two together and thought it might be you," Mark added.

"Why would you have thought that it was me? And what were you doing out here?"

"That's a long story," Mark said, "Have you ever heard of Geocaching?"

"You're cachers? So am I. Who are you?"

"I'm Serial Finder," Mark said and then pointed to Joe, "and he's JoeMerchant."

"Oh my god! I've done some of your caches. I feel like I know you guys."

"What's your Nome de geo?" Joe asked.

"OsceolaHiker. Osceola's about the only place I've cached so far. I guess I'm a newbee."

"I think I've seen a few of your logs," Joe said.

"So why were you guys thinking I'd be around here?"

"Look, before we go into that," Joe said, "it's getting pretty dang close to Dark-Thirty. We need to figure out how we're getting out of here."

"What about the Jeep?" Maddy asked.

"Two flat tires," Mark explained.

She shook her head and said, "What about just hiking out?"

Joe shook his head and pointed downward, "You're barefoot."

"Oh crap," she said, "you're right. How far is it to the road?"

"Four miles straight. A longer hike though," said Joe.

"And most of the way," Mark added, "it's pretty much a choice between sharp rock on the road or pine stubble through the woods. It'd be a rough hike even in a good pair of boots. You'd end up with a couple of bloody stumps where your feet should be."

"Ouch!" she said and asked, "No Cell phones?"

"No reception," said Joe as he held up his phone.

"Any other bad news I should know?"

"There's the bodies," Mark said.

"WHAT?" she jumped.

"Look," Joe interrupted, "I'm going to start walking out to get some Cell reception. Serial Finder can explain that while you two wait here. Give me your cell phone," he motioned to Mark.

"Mine? Why?

"You're on Cingular, I'm on Nextel. Whichever one I get a signal on first, I'll call the cops."

"Good plan," said Mark as he handed him the phone. He then turned to Maddy and said, "Let's have a seat in the Jeep and I'll start from the beginning."

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Byrd and Littlepage had arranged to meet Gina Broudy at her office in Middleburg. They were in the parking lot shortly after sunset, waiting for her to show up. Byrd was on his cell phone with Captain Wilde. "And the State Patrol?... Great... What about Fish and Wildlife?... Excellent. We're at the lawyer lady's office right now. She should be here any minute.... Okay. Later."

He flipped the phone shut and turned to Littlepage; "The State Patrol has a car off the Interstate on Highway 108. Nassau County has a car at the other end of 108 near Hilliard. There isn't really any other way out of there. If they're still there, we should be able to nab them if they try to leave."

"They've got a Jeep and a GPS," Littlepage pointed out, "There's gotta be more ways out than just the main roads."

"Not really. It's swamp to both the south and the north apparently. If they're there, the Nassau boys insist we've got 'em bottled up until morning."

"What about the girl? Can it wait until morning?"

"I hope so, because without something to narrow the search, there's no way of getting mobilized until daybreak."

"Maybe Ms. Broudy can help us out there," Littlepage said as headlights shown in the rear window of the vehicle.

"That must be her," Byrd said, climbing out of the car.

Littlepage joined him as the other car pulled into the parking space beside them. A woman got out and said, "Hello Detective Byrd, and this must be Deputy Littlepage."

"That's right ma'am, good to meet you," Littlepage responded.

She held a set of keys in one hand, motioned to the office door with the other and said, "Let's step inside."

Once inside, she led them to a desk. Sitting behind the desk she waved the men toward the chairs on the opposite side. As they each took a seat she asked, "How can I help you?"

"Where's Serial Finder?" Littlepage asked

"Who?"

"Quaintence. Mark Quaintence, your client," Byrd explained.

"Oh, Serial Finder is his Geocaching name, isn't it? I don't know where he is."

"You must know something counselor, otherwise, why did you ask us to meet you?"

"You believe he kidnapped that girl from the truck stop?"

"We've got blood evidence," Byrd said, "her blood on a shoe found this morning in the back of his car."

"So what we have here is an ongoing crime? Possibly a life at stake?"

"Exactly. If you know where he is..."

"I don't know", she interrupted, "but I have an idea." She held out a sheet of paper and continued, "this is a list of GPS coordinates." Due to attorney client privilege, I can't tell you where I got them. However, I believe Mark Quaintence may be at, or at least may have BEEN at, one or more of them today. I don't believe I have any more information that would be helpful in your pursuit of my client as it relates to the disappearance of this girl."

Byrd looked at the sheet for a few moments, then raised his eyes and began, "But..."

She held her hand up and said firmly, "I'm bound by attorney client privilege. I've given you everything I can within those bounds."

"Just one more thing," Littlepage said, "Do you know Joe Merchant?"

"Who?"

"A Geocacher named Joe Merchant?"

"Never heard of him."

The men tried, without success, to get more information. Whether or not the lawyer knew more than she was telling, she wasn't giving anything else up. As they drove away, Byrd handed the list to Littlepage and said, "Load 'em up in that GPS."

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While Mark told Maddy the story of finding the list and then finding the bodies, darkness crept over the forest. When Mark reached the part about the flushing toilet, Maddy asked, "So the police think you're the killer?"

"I think so, yeah," he nodded.

"I hope they're wrong."

"What do you mean you hope? You saw the guy."

"That's just it. I didn't really see him. It was dark and there was a struggle. It could just as well have been either one of you guys as anybody else."

"Wonderful. You're saved, but I'm still screwed."

"I'm not exactly saved yet. We've still got to get out of here."

"Well, let’s see if there's anything we can do on that. Since we're just sitting around, I'm gonna take a look at those tires."

Mark reached into his bag in the back seat and pulled out a flashlight. He then got out of the Jeep and walked around to the flat tire at the front of the vehicle. Maddy joined him as he shined the light on the tire. He squatted down and felt around the tire and said, "I don't feel anything stuck in it. Check that one."

Maddy squatted down by the back wheel and felt around it and reported, "Seems okay to me."

Mark was fingering the stem. He then felt around on the ground until he found a pine needle. He stuck the needle into the end of the stem. It went completely in with no resistance. "Holy crap!" Mark said, "We didn't get a flat, somebody let the air out."

"What?" she asked.

"The valve. Someone took out the valve. Pull those out and the tire goes flat in seconds. And there's no filling them back up without the valves either. Let me check that one."

Mark moved to the rear tire and repeated the pine needle test with the same results.

"You mean someone did this one purpose?" Maddy asked.

"Exactly," Mark nodded, "and I'll give you one guess who."

Her eyes widened, "The killer."