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the frat house, and a few people from the university administration office. I planned on talking with the professor Josh and Sean were supposed to meet at the library the night they were taken, but he’s been in class all day.” Jake stood, then moved next to Rachel. After she opened the folder, he leaned in and pointed to a name on the list.
    “Got it,” Rachel said. “And Sean’s clothes?”
    The sheriff reached across the desk and grabbed a brown paper bag. “Everything he wore the night he was found is in here. Like I told you this morning, I can send it to the State Police.”
    Rachel set the bag on her lap. “No, that’ll take too long. The lab CORE uses can give us results within a few days.”
    “Nice,” Jake replied. “That’s a hell of a turnaround time.”
    If only the sheriff knew the cost. But Ian had deep pockets and zero patience. With any case CORE took on, Ian wanted excellent, quick results. When one case ended, there was always another that needed to be solved.  
    “The perks of a private agency,” Rachel said, then added, “When I was researching Bola and Wexman, I found a blog that claimed Wexman Hell Week was like Bigfoot…nothing but a legend.”
    The sheriff sat on the edge of the desk near Rachel. “There are a lot of superstitious people around these parts. Every Townie has a theory about what keeps happening to these students. Some are logical, others are ludicrous. There’s one thing the Townies do have in common though, and that’s…fear.”
    Owen frowned. “But all the victims have been college students.”
    “Not all.” Jake turned to Rachel. “I told you this morning that in twenty years we’ve had well over a dozen missing persons cases. Including Josh Conway, that exact number is nineteen.”
    “You’d said five had been solved.”
      “Right. Those cases involved missing campers and hunters who’d gotten themselves lost in the woods. As for the four that haven’t been solved, I’m not sure if they’re related to the Wexman Hell Week cases, but the Townies think so.” He stood, grabbed a file box from the floor, then set it on the desk in front of Rachel. “This is everything I’ve got, dating back twenty years. Take it with you, these are all copies.”    
    Rachel glanced at Owen, then back to the sheriff. “Thanks. This is a big help.”
    For the first time since meeting him, Jake smiled. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure how much this will help or not.” Pulling a coat from his chair, he said, “I’ve got to go meet with the town council.”
    “Didn’t you do that this morning?” Rachel asked, furrowing her auburn brows.
      “It’s a wonder I get anything done,” he said with a rueful, half-smile. “The council consists of a bunch of business owners and retired busybodies. Although Wexman Hell Week isn’t something new, we have something happening this weekend that is.” He shoved his arm into the coat sleeve. “That professor Sean and Josh were supposed to meet…he and his students petitioned the Townies, then after receiving an overwhelming approval, have pulled together a festival. And it’s going down this weekend.”  
    “What kind of festival are we talking about?” Rachel asked.
    “Well, this is where things get a little tricky and ridiculous. I’m almost embarrassed to say.” Jake scratched the back of his head, looked to the floor for a second, then said, “It’s a Bigfoot festival.”
    Rachel smashed her lips together, and closed her eyes. Owen had seen that same expression numerous times over the years and knew she fought to keep from laughing. To help her save face in front of Jake, he said, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard…and I’m not just talking about Bigfoot. Why in the hell would this professor organize a festival now? Does he really believe Wexman Hell Week is a legend? I’d think missing kids would be enough to make anyone—”
    Jake raised a hand. “Please. Don’t get me