Poaching Grounds: A gripping psychological crime thriller (Carolina McKay Thriller Book 4)

by Tony Urban

  To be safe, he closed it into a fist. “If you don’t mind,” he said.

  “Not at all. How’d you want it?” she asked.

  “Raw,” he said.

  Her nose crinkled in disgust. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Rare,” he said, correcting himself.

  She laughed. “Oh, okay. I thought you said raw.”

  Mitch mirrored her laugh but made sure not to expose his teeth too much. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

  She took the plate from the table. “I’ll be right out with it,” she said, turning around and returning to the kitchen.

  Mitch waited patiently, scanning the room, and observing the people existing in their own bubbles still unaware of the danger they were in. They were like animals at the edge of a lake, drinking water and grazing on kelp. Meanwhile, the predator watched and waited. Biding his time.

  He turned his attention to view of the street through the window. The traffic light had changed and allowed a handful of cars to drive by, their engines muffled by the plate glass. When they passed, he smiled at what he saw on the sidewalk across the road.

  The woman from earlier, the one with the cat.

  Leigh.

  She walked toward a Dodge Charger with a Hopkins County Sheriff Department decal on the side. She wore a uniform that made her appear more authoritative than he knew her to be after their earlier interaction. Her blonde hair was pulled back and she still wore glasses.

  She held a phone to her ear and walked with purpose. Before she made it to the car, her foot caught on a piece of the curb, and she stumbled forward. She steadied herself before falling then glanced around furtively, her cheeks flushed red. But nobody saw her. At least, that’s what she thought.

  She lingered, almost as if she knew someone was watching.

  Can you feel me? Mitch thought. Are your cop instincts kicking in and alerting you to danger?

  He was answered when she put the phone back to her ear and pulled the door to her cruiser open. She slid in and fired up the engine. She scanned the area before pulling into the street, but for a brief, fleeting moment, their eyes locked.

  Do you see me? Mitch thought. Do you know I’m coming for you?

  And with that, she drove off.

  As she disappeared from view, Mitch’s phone buzzed on the table. He looked down at the screen and saw: Incoming Call from DEAR WIFEY.

  He swiped to unlock the phone and spoke into it.

  “Hello, my love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She thought the meeting with Ernie had gone well enough, and once he met with a sketch artist, they might actually have something to work with. Of course, they had to wait until he sobered up, but it was a small start.

  “You really think that hippy dog walker’s worth chasing down?” Hank asked, pulling open the door to his Explorer.

  Carolina shrugged. “It’s something, at least. Which is more than we had before today.”

  “Maybe.” He sounded unconvinced. “We’ll have to get someone in from Columbus for that sketch. Don’t have much call for th--”

  His radio cut him off.

  “Hey sheriff, you there?” O’Dell’s ancient voice asked.

  Hank took the walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Odie, what’s up?”

  “A guy named Zack Eddows just called.” Then came a long pause.

  “Yeah?” Hank asked. “What about it?”

  “Well,” O’Dell said, obviously trying to buy time when none was for sale. “He called to file a missing person’s report.” Even across the walkie his swallow was audible. “For his wife,” Odie finally got out.

  Carolina felt the fine hair on the back of her neck rise. It could be completely unrelated to the case she was working. It could be harmless. Most missing persons reports were. They were misunderstandings, spouses seeking a weekend romp or a better life. And sometimes people just decided to walk away from it all. Ninety-nine percent of the time there was no nefarious intent.

  But her gut said this wasn’t a random coincidence.

  “Can you take the report or is this something I need to handle?” Hank asked.

  “Mayhap you should, sheriff. I asked Mr. Eddows to describe his wife and…” Another throat clicking swallow. “Well, I suppose you don’t need to think too hard to guess what she looks like.”

  “Well, shit,” Hank muttered.

  Carolina was disappointed that her gut had likely been proven correct.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Zack Eddows’s home sat in a development filled with cookie-cutter-style housing where every third or fourth abode was a repeat of another. It was obviously middle-class from the neatly parked cars in the driveways, carefully tended lawns, and well-maintained domiciles.

  Carolina thought it had an HOA feel and she could imagine some busybody with a clipboard prowling the sidewalks to make sure everyone was abiding by the rules. Who needed freedom when there were more important issues - like property values - at hand?

  In Zack’s driveway sat a truck that had been lifted far higher than factory specs. The tires were almost half of Carolina’s height, and she would have needed a step stool to enter the cab. Not that she intended to. It was the type of rig driven by a man who was packing less meat in his pants than you’d find in a one-dollar burger at McDonald’s.

  “Think he’s trying to compensate for something?” Hank asked, throwing a sly grin her way.

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust, not at the crass remark but because their minds being on the same track disturbed her. “The man’s wife is missing. Try acting like a professional.”

  Hank shrugged and they continued on, passing by a small collection of potted plants and herbs before reaching a metal security door that covered the wooden door underneath.

  Hank raised his fist, ready to knock, but before he could so much as rattle the metal, the inner door swung open.

  “Sheriff Kolazarek?” a well-built man in his late twenties asked.

  “Zack Eddows?” Hank asked in return.

  Zack stepped aside to grant them access without any hesitation, then closed the door behind them.

  “Please take a seat,” he offered.

  Carolina followed Zack and Hank as they made their way into the living room. The house was orderly to the point of obsession. There were no signs of children, or at least no little ones. Most of those homes had toys and various other items strewn about. But everything was in its proper place at the Eddows residence.

  Zack dropped into an oversized leather armchair, filling it up with his large frame. He looked like every muscle in his body was flexed and ready to explode as he put his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. A smattering of stubble crossed his cheeks and chin and his hair had that not washed in a week oily look. His exposed forearms were covered in random tattoos.

  “Tell us what’s going on, Mr. Eddows,” Hank said, breaking the ice.

  “When I got home today, Katie wasn’t here. And she’s always here when I get back from a long haul,” Zack said.

  “Was anything amiss in the residence?” Hank asked. “Any signs of a break-in or robbery?”

  “No to both, sir.”

  “Well, she could be out for groceries or just about anything. What makes you think she’s missing?” Hank asked.

  “Katie didn’t show up for work today, either. I called and checked. They told me Katie didn’t come in today and didn’t call off. She just no-showed. And Katie never does that.”

  “Where did she work?” Hank asked.

  Carolina winced at did - past tense - but Zack seemed to have missed it.

  “Duncannon Ford. She’s a salesman.”

  “And you’re a truck driver?” Hank asked.

  “I drive for Sanders Transport. Cross-country, no local routes. I had a run up to New Hampshire and started back last night. Around ten, I pulled into a truck stop just past Albany and called home, but there was no answer. I texted her, thinking maybe she had to run to the Q
uickie Mart or something. She never texted me back, though.”

  “Is that out of the ordinary?” Hank asked.

  Zack nodded. “Yes, sir. She waits on my calls when I’m away. It’s a… nightly thing we do.”

  Carolina noticed his leg bouncing at a rapid pace. He was nervous, but she didn’t think it seemed suspicious.

  “Every single night?” Carolina asked.

  “Pretty near. I’m out of town a lot. And since we don’t see each other all the time, we get a little... starved,” he said.

  “Starved?” Hank asked, clueless.

  Carolina leaned in close and spoke in a hushed voice. “Phone sex.” She lifted her brow to Zack, who confirmed with a nod.

  “Oh,” Hank said to her. Then to Zack. “Oh. Sorry.”

  The man gave a sheepish shrug. “Anyway, I figured she just fell asleep early. But then I tried her again this morning before I hit the road, and she didn’t pick up then, either.”

  “When was the last time you did talk to her?” Carolina asked.

  “Yesterday morning. Around seven.”

  “Did she talk about her plans for the day? Was she meeting a friend, running errands, anything along those lines?”

  Zack’s leg bounced with increased fury as he pondered the question. Then the jingling of a collar rang a song from somewhere in the house and nails scratching on the laminate floor followed. A Jack Russell mix with a shaggy coat sprinted into the living room at near lightning speed, rushing to Zack and leaping into his lap.

  Only then did the dog alert to their presence, fur in its hackles rising. He mostly ignored Carolina, but gave Hank a death stare, upper lip trembling in a low growl.

  Despite the dog weighing all of fifteen pounds, Hank scooted further back in his chair, his body tensing.

  “He’s just anxious is all. Misses his mom,” Zack said, scratching the dog’s head. “Rico’s no biter.”

  Although she enjoyed her ultra-masculine ex-partner being intimidated by a small pooch, Carolina tried to keep the conversation on course.

  “Mr. Eddows, back to your conversation with Katie yesterday morning?” she pressed.

  Zack snapped back to reality. “Yeah, sorry. It was just normal chit-chat. She said she had to run to the bank after work, but that was all. She’s a homebody.”

  “Did you call her again between the morning and the evening?” Carolina asked.

  Zack shook his head. “She doesn’t like to talk to me when I’m driving. Afraid I’ll get distracted. That’s how she is, always extra careful.” He rubbed his eyes which weren’t tearful but were bloodshot. “I guess I should’ve tried, but I just didn’t think much of it. Bad stuff doesn’t happen to folks like us. We’re good people.”

  He locked eyes with Carolina, and she could see his desperate need for reassurance. But she didn’t say anything to put his mind at ease.

  Because as much as she wanted to comfort him and tell him it would all be fine, life had taught her that Zach Eddows was wrong. Bad things happened to good people every single day, while walking, talking pieces of shit skated through life carefree and got to die peacefully in their sleep at the age of ninety-five.

  It was like some cosmic force from above, God or whatever was up there, got its jollies off by saying, ‘You think you’re safe because you carry groceries for old ladies and say your prayers at bedtime? Well think again, sucker, because this is the day your life turns to shit, and you realize it’s all pointless. Morality is a joke and you, Mr. Good Person, are the punchline. Gotcha!’

  Luckily, Hank stepped in. “Don’t get yourself worked up about it. I’m sure we’ll find her. There’s a solid chance that this is nothing at all.”

  Carolina heard the words come out of Hank’s mouth, dripping with faux sincerity. After all the years, he was still a terrible liar. Schmoozing, ass-kissing? He was one of the best. Lying, though? A completely different story.

  “I called her girlfriends from the neighborhood, got a hold of her mom up in Athens, but nobody has seen or talked to her today,” Zack said. “That’s why I thought it best I call you.”

  “That’s good. It gives us something to go off of,” Hank said. “I’m going to need you to give me a list of Katie’s friends and family in the area, business associates, that kind of thing. I promise we’ll look into it, but I’d wager it’s nothing to fret about. She probably fell asleep early last night, then decided she needed a mental health day from work. We’ve all been there.” Hank added a fake laugh for effect. “This whole thing’s likely nothing more than a coincidence.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Zack said, continuing to pet Rico.

  Hank stood, keeping his eyes locked on the dog as if fearing it might sprout wings and soar across the room to tear out his throat. “Just do me a solid and keep this to yourself for the time being, okay? Let us look into it thoroughly before we risk a panic.”

  Zack didn’t look up. “If you say so.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Carolina stared at a picture of Katie Eddows. Hank had pinned it on the bulletin board a few hours earlier, after their return to the station. It was an image provided by Zack and showed the couple feeding lettuce to a giraffe at The Wilds, a nearby wildlife park. It had been a weekend getaway for their second anniversary and they both looked so damned giddy it hurt.

  Katie had blonde hair that was just touching her shoulders and wore hipster-style glasses. She was fit, young, and stylish, wearing skinny jeans and a top that exposed her midriff. A diamond stud in her navel reflected the midday sunlight.

  When compared with the photos of the other victims, the similarities were impossible to miss. As Carolina compared the happy photo at the zoo to the ‘After’ images of the other women, their bodies ripped apart, she wondered how soon a similar, post-mortem image of Katie Eddows would be pinned next to the snapshot from happier times.

  She wanted to prevent that, to catch whoever was responsible for these ferocious killings, but kept hitting walls. They’d contacted every name on the list that Zack Eddows had provided and spoken with all but two. Those conversations were equally fruitless. They couldn’t even connect Katie with the other victims in anything more than a six-degrees-of-separation sort of way.

  They were stuck on square one with no signs of progress and it left Carolina feeling useless. She’d been brought in to help stop a madman, but the only meaningful change since her arrival was the number of victims.

  A look at Hank told her he was equally hopeless.

  “What are you thinking?” Carolina asked him.

  Hank ran a hand through his thinning hair. “You and I have been around this stuff long enough to know that coincidences are hard to come by. Whoever killed the other women took Katie Eddows, too.”

  Carolina nodded in agreement. Depending on when Katie was taken, she could already be dead. But that would also mean the killer would need to find a new dump site for the body.

  “Are there any places in Hopkins similar to Silver Gap?” she asked Hank. “Isolated. Remote. Not many visitors?”

  Hank blew his nose while he considered it. “You just described sixty percent of the county. We’re a rural area with wide swaths of land that rarely get visited. But, as far as state game lands, there’s a couple thousand acres southeast of Rupine. It’s much more rugged, though. I don’t even know if--”

  Before he could finish his sentence, O’Dell loped into the room with the grace of a three-legged gazelle.

  “Hank?” O’Dell said.

  Hank held up a hand. “Not now, Odie. We’re trying to get some work done.”

  Odie hung around, shuffling his light weight back and forth on his feet, chewing his bottom lip like it was a chunk of overcooked liver.

  Carolina watched the old guy with curiosity. She knew Hank had a temper and Odie had likely caught his wrath before, leaving him unanxious to face those consequences again, but his lingering presence meant something was up.

  She cleared her throat, catching Hank’s attention
, then tilted her head in Odie’s direction, trying to help the guy out.

  “What do you want?” Hank grunted.

  Odie stuttered, tensing his neck, unable to form words.

  “Spit it out or get out,” Hank demanded.

  “That Eddows fella,” Odie said, finally mustering up the courage. “The one with the missing wife. He’s on Channel Six News right now.”

  Hank’s eyes went wide, then narrowed to thin slits. “Motherfucker,” he muttered, storming by Odie and out the door.

  Odie shrugged as if apologizing to Carolina. She didn’t have time to make sure the old fellow was okay, and instead followed Hank down the stairs and into a small break room.

  A thirty-inch flat screen television sat atop the counter right next to the microwave. A round table was planted in the middle of the room surrounded by six plastic chairs. Cupboards lined one wall of the room and butted up against the white, dented fridge in the corner.

  Odie came in behind them to watch. Leigh was already there, sipping on coffee and keeping her head low, as if she knew hell was coming and wanted to be out of firing range.

  Hank grabbed the remote and slammed the volume button until the crackly audio from the cheap speakers was nearly deafening. Carolina’s gaze ping-ponged between the TV where Zack Eddows’s crying face filled the screen to Hank’s face which had gone tomato red.

  Zack sat in the same living room, staring intently into the camera as he spoke. “I believe Katie went missing yesterday. She didn’t answer any of my calls or texts after the morning, and no one’s heard from her since.”

  “And what do you believe happened to her?” a reporter asked from off screen.

  “I don’t know. But after those women were found in the woods, it’s hard to not think... I just want whoever took my Katie to know that she’s a good woman. She’s loved. She’s never hurt anyone.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I want her back. I want to hold her again. Please.” He held up a photo of Katie and Rico sitting on the beach. “Please let Katie come home. I’ll do anything. Pay any ransom. Whatever you want.”