The paper was thick and smelled of ammonia, the kind of map they used for highway planning before everything went digital.

“A state trooper found the vehicle at seven o’clock yesterday morning,” Harris said.

He pointed a blunt index finger at a small red circle near the junction of Route 315 and State Route 161.

“Elise Porter’s sedan was parked behind an abandoned agricultural supply warehouse,” he said.

“That is six miles from my apartment,” I said.

“It is also three miles from the route your brother Caleb takes to the quarry,” Harris said.

He reached into his breast pocket, but his hand came back empty.