The Butterfly Forest

FIFTY

Nick brought in a large platter of grilled fish and vegetables. He set the platter on the bar.

Dave looked from the computer screen to me. “Who’s that?”

“Frank Soto.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” I looked closer at the image. A second man, his face blocked by foliage, stood to the right of Soto. Only the man’s legs and mid-section were visible. “Soto was not alone.”

Dave adjusted the glasses on his nose. “Too bad we can’t make out his face.”

“What are you two lookin’ at?” Nick asked, wiping his fingers on a napkin.

“We’re looking at the man who could have killed three people,” I said.

“Lemme see.” Nick leaned in, the smell of onions and oregano clinging to his T-shirt, sweat popping from his furrowed brow. “It looks kinda fuzzy to me. How’d you tell if he’s the killer?”

“His appearance and his build. Name’s Frank Soto. The way he’s stalking Molly and Mark in this picture is the same stance I saw him in when he was stalking Molly and her mother, Elizabeth. There’s another man standing near him.”

Nick snorted, “I see his legs. No face, huh? If the guy killed the college kids, how do you have the camera? Wouldn’t he toss it in a lake or something?”

“Probably, if he’d caught them then. But this was the first time Molly and Mark went into the forest. They were scouting the area, she told me, for the coontie plants.”

Dave said, “And they found hundreds, maybe thousands of marijuana plants.”

“They did?” Nick asked.

Dave touched the screen with the tip of his finger. “Right there. You can just see them growing behind the trees.”

I said, “But Molly and Mark may not have noticed them. Here’s why. Shadows were pointing toward the camera, which means the marijuana may have been more in silhouette to the human eye. The camera was on automatic mode when these photos were taken. The camera compensated for the shadows and overexposed around the edges of the frame. So we can see the marijuana, but the tops of the oaks trees are overexposed because they were closer to a late afternoon sun. And the two men in the picture are in more of a black-and-white look because of this.”

Dave sat back on his stool, his face disheveled in thought. “So Frank Soto assumed the kids had found the goods, snapped his picture and that of his accomplice standing next to him. The pot producers, along with their operation, had been made. Explains why Soto risked the daylight abduction in a crowded Walmart parking lot.”

I nodded. “Was it Soto who went after them or did the orders come from someone else? And if it was someone else, was it this figure standing near him? Is that figure the man, the killer, Luke Palmer described to the sheriff?”

“Maybe he’s Luke Palmer,” Dave said.

“That’s a possibility,” I said. “Molly told me the day she and Mark were scouting in the forest, they were very lost. Sunlight was fading. They were frightened. They snapped pictures in hope it would give them points-of-reference to go back in to reintroduce the butterflies to the wild. She said they never actually saw anyone following them, but heard sounds. She said it felt like they were being watched and followed.”

“Maybe it was an animal,” Nick said.

I almost smiled. “I believe this animal walked on two legs. Molly said she and Mark eventually saw lights from an approaching car on one of the sandy roads leading into the forest. They believe the lights from the car may have scared off whoever was following them. They flagged the car down. It was a couple of park rangers who’d been searching for them because it was getting dark and a storm was approaching.”

Dave said, “You now have proof of a marijuana operation somewhere in the Ocala National Forest. You have an image of Frank Soto, the man who almost abducted the Monroe woman. He’s standing with someone, maybe not Palmer, and God knows how much marijuana is growing in there. Do you think they’ll release Palmer?”

“Depends on what forensics tells them. Let’s see if I can get something else. Let’s see what happens if I zoom into the mystery man.”

“How you do that on the computer?” Nick asked.

“Like this.” I cut out a section of the image from just below the tree leaves blocking the man’s face to above his knees. I zoomed into his left hand, just visible in the frame. The sleeve was turned up a quarter. “Molly’s camera has excellent resolution. Its pixels are holding together well as I zoom close. See that?”

“Looks like he was wearing a watch?” Dave said.

“And I think I see a wedding band.”

Nick said, “Get closer and we might see the dirt under the dude’s fingernails.”

“That’s close as I can get. And that’s close enough.”

“Why?” Nick asked.

“Because Palmer wasn’t wearing a watch or a wedding band when he came out of the river.”

“And that guy was,” Dave studied the image.

“Then who is it?” Nick asked, squeezing fresh lemons on the fish.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”