They reached the community center, one more popular hunting group to evaluate. Exiting the car, they both walked into the older brick building. Taxidermized animals lined the walls and in corners next to decorative house plants.
Lynn knew where the hunting group met. It was a room near the back. She had been there once with her father, back when the center was more popular. Now it was where all the elderly gathered.
They passed a few doors leading to bingo rooms and one room had a circle of old women quilting.
Finally, they reached the large double doors to the hunting room. She opened it, revealing a room with plush leather chairs, a bar, and seemingly more animals than the rest of the building. Photos, old and new, lined the walls, from hunting seasons in the 40’s to the present day.
A few men were gathered here and there in the room, each talking and laughing, and drinking shots of whiskey.
“Lynn, what are you doing here?” A huffing joyful voice boomed begins them and she spun around.
“Uncle Mike!” She walked to him and the old man wrapped his arms around her in a giant hug.
He had a thick silver beard and deep laugh lines and wrinkles near his wet blue eyes. His lips curled in a smiled underneath the layer of hair and his baseball cap was skewed after the embrace.
She let go and turned to Hotchner, still beaming, until she saw his amused gaze, and she brushed her uniform off and straightened her posture, quickly turning away, pink rushing to her cheeks.
“Agent Hotchner, this is Mike Gorslow,” she gestured to the man who shook Hotch’s hand in a tight grip.
“I’m sorry, Mike, but I can’t stay and catch up. I didn’t even know you were back in town!”
“I had some business to take care of at the lodge and in the group, I didn’t know you would show up,” he glanced at agent Hotchner, “are you on a case right now?”
“Yes, I am,” she paused. “You were here back when I was in high school right? And before when the hiker got lost in the woods right?”
“I was part of the search party. My friends and I know the woods better than anyone else in town.”
“Is it all right if we ask you some questions from back then? We need all the information we can get.”
The old man looked at Hotch again and smiled, shrugging.
“Anything for my Lynn.”
“Is there a room for a more private conversation?”
“Sure, follow me,” he started walking down the hallway, the two investigators in tow.
“Are you sure he’ll be able to help?” Hotch asked as they followed the man.
“He used to be the leader of the group back in the day. If anyone has information from back then it has to be him.”
They stopped in a room that was off to the side in a smaller hallway. The lights were covered in dust and boxes of files and framed pictures lined the walls.
Lynn fingered through some of the items, looking at old photographs that consisted of rugged mountain men, park officers, and occasionally local hunters. Mike was in almost every photo.
“How would you hunt and prepare a deer?” Hotch asked after they sat down.
“Are you interested in hunting, agent?” Mike asked.
“I’m not a huge fan. Lewisville seems to be hub for the trade.”
“We are. Lewey’s is a small town but we have trails and cabins that just don’t have the same isolation as like other parts of the state.”
“And what’s the most popular animal that people hunt here?”
“Usually people try to find elk. We have a few different types here. Once in a while someone will run into a cougar and back in the day, the bears were the prime pelt to collect. And to answer your question, deer or elk are prepared the same way. Gut them first then you can take the parts you want- antlers, head, or full body for taxidermy.”
“Would hunters normally do that in the woods?” Lynn spoke up.
Mike shook his head.
“It’s always better to take ‘em back to a gutting shed. To prepare the body. Out in the woods, you don’t want to take too much time on one animal. Bears and other predators are attracted to the blood, plus hygiene problems with all the fluids. However, the elk is too big to carry, then a hunter will have to gut it and prepare it in the woods, then take it back alone.”
“Can you name anyone who would choose to do this in the woods? Or anyone adept at it?”
“Most try to avoid it in the woods. I’ve done it a few times after special catches, and one group in particular taught survival classes back in the day. The names escape me though- some of these boxes might help, with all the records and photos and all…”
“Thank you, Mike,” She stood and led him out as Hotch went to get permission to look through all the boxes.
The leader of the center was more than willing to grant them access to the old archived boxes, and the team soon arrived to collect them, two boxes in each agent’s arms.
“The other lodges were bust,” Rossi grumbled, “those groups formed after the murders and some don’t even teach or hunt for bigger game.”
“We know that the unsub is still in Lewisville,” Reid said as he hoisted up a box of photos and record books, “but it seems like he disappeared after the second and third murders.”
“Something must have happened to him in that time,” Emily stated.
Morgan held the doors out of the room for everyone.
“Garcia already checked prisons and institutions. No one was put in or released corresponding to the timeline.”
Lynn was the last to exit the room, “What if something different happened? Like, medical problems or they got a new job- a family even?”
“A new job or family could be a reason, and it seems this unsub could have the organization to hold a job or keep his secrets separate from his personal life,” Morgan walked by her side. “But that’s just too wide a suspect pool to evaluate.”
“How about those who- who…” Lynn trailed off as she noticed a woman standing in front of a large elk in the entry room.
“Lynn, what’s wrong?” Morgan stopped with her, following her gaze.
“Could you take my box to the car? I have to speak- speak with someone…” She handed her ox of files over to him before he had a chance to answer and started walking to the woman.
“Alright, I’ll send someone back to you,” he reluctantly walked off, glancing back one more time.
Lynn slowly approached the woman, just noticing the man she was talking to.
“Susan?” Her voice wavered out.
The brown-haired woman turned around and smiled after she recognized the deputy.
“Lynn! I knew you’d be here,” Susan pulled the shorter woman into her embrace and rested her head on her shoulder.
“What are you both doing here?” Lynn pulled away and asked the couple, recognizing the man as John, Susan’s husband.
“We got your letter. You wanted us here since you found Jenny… and the funeral?” Susan held Lynn’s shoulders, her voiced laced with sadness.
Hotchner walked back in after Morgan told him Lynn stayed behind. The rest of the team had already left to start evaluating the records that hadn’t been uploaded online.
“Lynn, is everything ok?”
Susan looked at him, a glint in her eyes and back at Lynn, waiting for introductions.
Lynn broke out of her haze, snapping towards him.
“Was he here? The Unsub?’ She started looking around in a panic, the thought of being watched etched into her mind.
“Lynn!” He stopped her, grabbing onto her shoulders, “What’s wrong?”
“How did he know we would be here?” She turned back to the couple, “You’re not supposed to be here…”
“Who are you?” Hotch turned to Susan and John, confused at Lynn’s reaction. Nothing he could remember from that day pointed toward the unsub following them.
“I’m Susan and this is John, my husband. We’re here because of Jenny. Who are you?”
It finally clicked in his mind and he pulled out his badge, suddenly feeling like they should get out of the open.
“I’m SSA Hotchner of the FBI. You need to come with us right now.”
“Why?” John finally spoke up, slightly annoyed.
Lynn finally calmed down, her voice slow, “Because, you both are in danger.”
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