JENNER, Calif. (AP) – Murder clues aren’t easy to find along California’s remote northern coast, frustrating the dozens of detectives who are trying to solve the slayings of two Christian camp counselors on an isolated beach.

The killer, or killers, could have slipped away by land or sea. The slayings could have happened in the dead of night, under the cover of fog or even in the day, with the culprit blending in among the many transients who ride the rollercoaster-like Pacific Coast highway.

Loggers, hippies, yuppies, fishermen, retirees, surfers, wealthy weekenders, artists, marijuana growers and ranchers live here, mostly in places hidden from the road, all finding something in common in the sparsely populated terrain.

Lindsay Cutshall, 22, and Jason Allen, 26, were shot in the head at close range while lying in sleeping bags under the stars on a driftwood-littered beach that lies far below a steep hillside, entirely hidden from the view of passing cars.

“This particular area is quite rugged, and offers its own difficulties in terms of scene processing,” Lt. Dave Edmonds said Thursday at what the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Department said would be its last daily news conference on the case. “Just being in communication out there is difficult.”

The killings have the typically laid-back coast on edge and residents in Jenner, a lonely outpost perched above the mouth of the Russian River, viewing their tiny community in a new light.

“We thought we were in a cocoon here, isolated and insulated from the rest of the world,” said John Chyle, a retired airline pilot. “Then this happened in our backyard.”

With 350 tips to follow up on, investigators said they were optimistic for a break in the case, but had yet to find any motive for the shootings and were prepared for a long investigation.

No weapon has been found, there were no signs of robbery and there was no evidence of any other violence. During a community meeting last week, the sheriff and his top brass said they were keeping their minds open to any evidence or theories, but were keeping details secret.

Asked if the couple might have picked up a hitchhiker, Edmonds went a bit further.

“That would be consistent with the type of people they were,” said Edmonds, who likened the couple to evangelical missionaries. “They were friendly people willing to help.”

The two worked at a Christian camp in the Sierra foothills all summer, leading teens and college students on rafting and hiking trips. They got away to the coast for the weekend and were expected back at the camp for its final days before returning home to the Midwest to marry next month.

The raw beauty of the Pacific Coast has always been a temporary getaway for city folk and inland dwellers seeking the serenity of the sea. Grassy hills tumble to the shore, ending abruptly at craggy cliffs above wild beaches. Seals, sea lions and migrating whales can be seen in the nippy waters.

For those who live here, it’s become a permanent getaway.

Billy White came west from Indiana to play with a Santa Rosa rock band 18 years ago, then quickly moved out to the coast. He works as a printer of wine labels, and doesn’t mind struggling to get by.

“Living here makes you wealthy enough,” he said. “A lot of us look at it that way.”

But the killings have eroded that sense of peace.

Charlie Ehlert and Jenny Cobb of Salt Lake City, who were bicycling through town from Oregon to San Francisco, decided to stay in motels after nearly a month of sleeping in tents.

“It sort of got a little emotionally edgy,” Ehlert said. “Life’s too short to make it shorter.”

Rich Pearson, who came here from Detroit nearly a quarter century ago and lives out of his 1968 Dodge van, said the killings have tainted his image of the place. He used to park on the bluffs and open his van doors toward the ocean, sleeping in “the best room in the town.”

But the killings have soured him on that lifestyle.

“I don’t want to camp out here anymore,” he said. “The moment’s gone.”