Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (138 page)

When he saw he wasn’t going to get a rise from me, he glanced up and down at Angela again, and then sauntered away. His limo disappeared around the corner and I unclenched my fists.

I let out all my breath.

Now that he was out, it wasn’t safe anywhere. I had to get him back behind bars as soon as I could.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE CARAMEL COLOR OF the Scotch made him feel better at once. Dipping his finger in a shot of water, he knocked off a few drops into his glass. The bouquet filled his lungs and he let the liquor spread over his tongue.

This was the life. Back home and free to hunt again. There was only one small hiccup, a minor inconvenience that in some ways was almost as fun as hunting.

Office lights off and sitting in the dark, he checked his cell. One missed call and one message. He hit the voicemail key and listened.

“We’ve got a problem—the fox is at the henhouse. Let me know what you want to do about it.”

The message was short and to the point. He clenched his fingers around the glass of Scotch, and then threw it across the room and cursed. The heavy glass hit the far wall and broke through the plaster, embedding itself in the wall.

Hitting redial, he waited. Three rings and then an answer. “Hey, what you want I should do?” The accent was all but gone, but the words were still mixed up.

Taking out a clean glass from the liquor cabinet, he poured another shot. “I want you to fix it, clean it up.” His voice was low, demanding.

“Will do.”

“This time make sure it stays fixed.”

There was no answer. The line disconnected and the tall man sat back down with a heavy sigh. This was going to be fun.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

WE PULLED INTO THE driveway at the old abandoned farmhouse three hours later. It had taken a while to get through dinner. The girls wanted to talk and I tried to pay attention, but seeing Williams had me on edge. When I finally arrived at the farmhouse, it was near dusk.

Mandy was in the back seat, wide-eyed and clutching her camera. I’d called her and asked to borrow her camera, but she gave me an ultimatum: either she came with it or I didn’t get it. Since I didn’t want to use any of the crappy digital cameras the office gave out, I decided to let her come. After all, it wouldn’t be dangerous.

The moon was already out, even though it was still light. It cast an eerie glow over the cornfield to our left.

I couldn’t help but think of a Stephen King novel and wondered if this was the sort of place he saw in his nightmares as he wrote. I didn’t like being here in the daytime, let alone at night, but it would probably take an hour to search the place thoroughly. It’d be dark by then.

I glanced at Joshua, who was driving the company car. He took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his shaved head. “Come on, Sherlock,” I said. “Let’s see what we can see.”

“There’s no light on,” Mandy whispered.

“Yeah, it’s an abandoned farmyard,” I said dryly. “And they taped this area off—I would be worried if there
were
lights on.”

My eyes took a moment to adjust after I exited the car. I strode toward the barn, intent on my destination.

The crickets were making music full force. A crow occasionally chimed in, as if he didn’t want the crickets to get all the glory. The grass weaved and danced in the wind, creating a rustling backdrop. I’d missed hearing this country music—real country music. I’d spent every summer with my grandparents on a farm until they died when I was ten. The sounds were familiar to me.

Two car doors slammed shut.

I sighed and turned, walking backwards. “You don’t have to come in, Mandy. Unless we find something for you to shoot.”

“Shoot? Don’t use that phrase,” she said.

“Shoot with your camera,” I clarified.

Joshua hurried to catch up with me.

“Don’t think for a minute you’re going to leave me in the car,” Mandy said.

“Fine. But you have to be quiet. I know how you like to talk when you’re scared.”

“I don’t talk when I’m scared. I mean, maybe a little, but it’s ‘cause it calms me down, gives me something to think about, something to take my mind off whatever I’m scared of and—oh, God, I’m doing it right now.”

I smiled. “Yeah, that—don’t do that.”

We arrived at the barn and stood together. More police tape stating CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS lined the doors. I pulled it free and touched Mandy on the shoulder, making her jump and mutter a curse.

“This is where it happened,” Joshua said in a haunted whisper. His black eyes glanced from one corner of the property to the other, taking it all in.

“Are we even supposed to do this?” Mandy asked, her voice shaking. “Is this legal?”

“Give me some credit,” I said. “I called the P.D. before I came and got permission. Nobody wants to come out here anymore.”

I motioned to Joshua and he helped me slide the heavy double doors open. They groaned on their hinges and the sound stopped the crickets’ serenade.

On my right was the horse trough. The one where Tracy died—drowned—all alone and scared. On my left was the grain closet, the one where he’d kept her all day while he was gone. My heart was pounding so hard in my ears, I swear Mandy could hear it.

I went to the middle of the barn and stood there. My mind always worked best when I was still. Imagining the barn as it was when they were in it, I looked it over, trying to notice anything that had changed. I put myself in Williams’ shoes. Where did he go? What did he do? And what kind of evidence would he have left?

Joshua started near the horse trough and scoured the area one foot at a time. I bet he recognized most of it from the crime scene photos. Mandy stood with her back against the wall, looking frightened.

Breathing through my nose, I concentrated on the scene playing out in my head. He’d park out front, come through the double doors, walked to the grain closet, and dragged her out. She’d been bound and too weak to struggle. And then where would he take her?

One corner of the barn was littered with rotten wood, rusty tools, and hay. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in twenty years. Another corner held a gutted tractor. Another had a small door leading to the back. And the last corner … that was where he would take her.

There was a clear path in the dust and hay to that corner. It was where the horse trough was. There had been a ratty blanket there, which was taken for evidence. A pitchfork and shovel leaned against the wall. And then there’d been a stainless-steel bucket with granola bar wrappers in it. The autopsy had revealed granola bars and water in Tracy’s stomach, the only things he’d given her to eat.

The police had combed the area with a fine-tooth comb. It’s where they had collected most of the DNA. Joshua started pacing up and down the area, blocking my view of it.

My gaze strayed to the back door. I walked over and knelt in front of it. It was getting darker, so I called for Mandy to grab the flashlights I’d left in my purse in the car. She complied with a scowl.

There was something interesting about this back door. A groove lined the floor, and the lock was busted as if it’d been forced open. If Williams always parked in front, why would he need to get out this door? I hadn’t seen anything in the police report about it, so I walked through.

There was a field in the back, and only a field. A narrow dirt drive circled the barn and led here. Kathleen, the neighbor, hadn’t mentioned seeing two cars, but what if someone had parked back here without her seeing?

It was the first time I’d thought about it. What if Williams wasn’t the only one here?

I went back to the doorway and got on my hands and knees. Any evidence I found would be eleven months old. What could survive eleven months out here? I found dead grass, clods of dirt, fresh animal droppings, ancient animal droppings, and tidbits of fur all stuck around the entrance.

Mandy came with the flashlights. She didn’t say anything—just held up the light and made the area bright. I murmured a thank you, but didn’t take my eyes off the floor. There were no cigarette butts, no old footprints, or litter of any—wait. I scrambled to the very corner of the barn.

“I think I found something,” Joshua and I shouted at the exact same time.

Joshua hurried over. “You go first,” he said.

I pointed at a candy wrapper lodged in a crack in the floor. “This might be his.” I looked up at them, and their eyes lit with the significance. “Some people open candy wrappers with their teeth. There might be some saliva on it.”

Joshua nodded. “That’s good.”

“It’s old, and wasn’t caught by the police.” I sat back on my heels. “It’s basically void, but maybe something will come of it.”

Mandy peered closer. “I think it’s a Jolly Rancher wrapper. Cherry.” She handed me the flashlight, and then she picked up the camera that hung around her neck and started snapping pictures.

“This could mean Williams wasn’t the only one here,” I said.

“I don’t know if we could jump to that…” Joshua said with reticence.

I shrugged. It was just a gut feeling I had.

“What’d you find?” I asked Joshua when Mandy was done.

He grinned and led us toward the horse trough. “I think the detectives covered everything except for what I found on this wall.” He pointed to an area beside the blanket and we stood before it, looking at the rotting slats. I could barely make out something different in the texture, a darkened line or two.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I think he peed on the wall,” Joshua said. Mandy wrinkled her nose. “And then the dirt collected on the liquid and created that pattern.”

“Hmm,” I said. “If it dribbled to the ground, maybe forensics could collect a sample from the ground, too.”

“I think they should saw off this whole section and see if they can get anything out of it,” Joshua said.

Urine was a long shot, as the only DNA found in it was from endothelial cells and they might not be present in the sample after this long. Not to mention the fact that the court would never trust evidence discovered by us. But a long shot was better than no shot. I grinned widely. “You get extra points in your intern scorecard,” I said.

“There’s an intern scorecard?” Joshua said, adjusting his glasses.

“No.” I laughed. “But if there was, you’d be the winner.” Joshua accepted my compliment with a smile. “Let’s call in the reinforcements,” I said, taking out my phone. I had to get the detectives out here to collect the evidence.

“If we did this much in an hour,” Mandy said, snapping pictures of the wall, “I can’t imagine how many cases we’d solve if we worked at it full-time.”

“Yeah, I think we’re in the wrong line of work.” I winked at Joshua. “Let’s go into the private investigator business … Hello?” The detective on the case answered and I explained what we’d found. After he grumbled about the late hour and I pointed out that if he’d done his job right in the first place he wouldn’t have to come out here again, he said he was on his way.

The crickets got quiet again. That was strange. I bent my ear toward the open door. Gravel crunched—a vehicle was pulling into the driveway, and coming fast.

Mandy frowned. “How could the police get here already?”

Breaks squeaked and a car door opened. Someone ran toward the barn.

Joshua froze. I jumped up and ran for the door. My palms were sweating and I held back the fear creeping up my spine.

As I neared the exit, I heard glass shatter and the door erupted in flames. Mandy screamed. I smelled gasoline, and then heard another crash as a small section of wall exploded with fire. The wood was dry and rotted, the perfect food for a ravenous flame. Within a second, it got so hot that I had to move back, away from the heat.

I heard another thump against the outside of the barn, a crash of glass, and flames started climbing up the other wall. It was a nearly smokeless fire, the wood was so dry. The blaze was going straight for Mandy and Joshua—and the new evidence.

Grabbing the shovel before flames encased it, I ran toward my friends, shouting, “Go for the back door.” My heart slowed and I stayed calm. The more intense things got, the more awareness came to me. It was what being an attorney had taught me.