The marina was deserted, the yachts bobbing silently in their slips.

Sophia led me to an abandoned bait shop at the far end of the wooden pier.

The wood was rotten, creaking under our boots.

Sophia knocked three times on the padlocked door, then twice more.

A small latch opened, and a pair of bloodshot eyes peered out.

The padlock rattled, and the door opened a crack.

Ava stood in the shadows, wrapped in a damp wool blanket.

Her face was gaunt, her fingernails bitten down to the quick.

“Daniel,” she gasped, pulling me inside. “I thought they caught you too.”

“We saw the photo, Ava,” I said. “Where did you take it?”

“Near the clinic,” Ava said, her voice shaking. “I was waiting for Emily. We were supposed to run away together.”

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Sophia asked.

“Sheriff Wade was there,” Ava said, tears spilling over her cheeks. “He was holding the car door open.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black flash drive.

“This is the original file,” Ava said. “It has the GPS coordinates and the camera’s internal clock.”