Cold Threat

by Mary Stone

  Ellie’s brow furrowed as she wrote furiously. When she lifted her head, there was a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I’m starting to think you’re right. Maybe this was more than just a simple accident. Were there any other signs of foul play?”

  “Besides being shot in the back? None. And when I asked Detective Jones about it later, he said the lead didn’t pan out, so I had no choice but to let it go.” She shrugged, letting her hand fall to the desktop. “I have a lot on my plate as it is, so once the evidence leaves here, it’s out of my hands.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Ellie assured her. “You did your job and raised some concerns when you saw them. Anything more could’ve been seen as overstepping.” Ellie held up the papers as she stood. “Thanks again for these. And for answering my questions. This helps a lot.”

  “Any time I can help with a case, don’t hesitate to come by.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Ellie started for the door before halting. “I’m headed out to the crime scene. If you think of anything else, please let me know.”

  “I will.” She followed Ellie to the door and closed it, intent on diving into the stack of pending cases on her desk.

  But even as she worked, her mind kept going back to the John Doe. What if it wasn’t a simple accident at all, and actually something much worse? Had her instincts been right all along?

  But without a bullet, it would be next to impossible to find out who fired the fatal shot.

  And if his death wasn’t an accident, that meant there was a murderer still running loose.

  8

  Ellie stepped out of her car in front of a little diner that was also a gas station and quaint general store combo. She grimaced at the rusted sign that hung above the door promising everything from toothpaste to deer urine.

  She had thought about calling Jillian to meet her, but the body of John Doe had been found in a remote area outside the Charleston city limits, and it was a bit of a drive. The sun still set early in February, and by the time Jillian got there and they found the place where the body had been discovered, it would be dark.

  “Let’s do this,” Ellie said to herself as she pushed open the door, the GPS pulled up on her phone.

  A group of men stood near the register, laughing and chatting in warm, friendly tones. She headed straight for them, sure they would be helpful. When they noticed her, they stopped talking. The man closest, in his late thirties with a dark beard, tipped his camo ball cap in greeting.

  She shot the group a smile and held up her badge. “Good evening, I’m Detective Ellie Kline.”

  “I’m Tucker Penland.” He stepped closer, giving another half tip with his camo hat before shaking her hand, his voice kind, his smile warm and inviting. “This is Ronnie Firth and Calen Hatch. How can we help you, ma’am?”

  Showing them the map on her phone, she pointed to a little red dot. “I’m looking for this place right here. Some of the roads I’m looking for aren’t on my GPS, and I’ve hit three dead ends already.”

  “A lot of the smaller roads ‘round here won’t show up on your GPS. Private easements.”

  “That explains it. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  “I can do better than that.” Tucker’s sparkling golden hazel eyes smiled up at her, as he was several inches shorter than her. “I can take you up there and show you what’s what.” He pointed at a spot a few fingertips away from the red dot on her screen. “Right there is where I live. Lived up there for about five years. Ronnie and Calen can vouch for me. I’ve known them both since I built the house and moved in.”

  The two men nodded vigorously, “yes, ma’aming” in deep Southern drawls.

  Tucker ran his finger over the map, pausing as he pointed out each place. “Right here’s a trail that leads up to that spot, then down to houses here, here and here.”

  “There are houses?” She squinted at the map on her phone.

  “Cabins, some more rustic than others. But some folks have lived up there for generations.”

  “Good to know.”

  Tucker eyed her in a way that made her feel like she was being weighed and measured, but in a friendly, downhome kind of way. “I don’t mean to pry, but are you lookin’ for the spot where the fella was found a couple years ago?”

  Ellie smiled at Tucker. “How did you know?”

  “Who do you reckon called y’all?”

  She hadn’t expected to be so lucky. “Perfect, because I’d like to talk to you about anything you remember about that day, and since you offered, I’d appreciate it if I could follow you up there.”

  “You can ride with me if you’d like. It’s a little much for most cars.”

  “I have all-wheel drive.”

  “Then you’ll probably be just fine.” He winked at her. “And if not, I’ll wench you out.”

  “Thanks.”

  She got into her Audi, but before she put it in gear, she double-checked the gun in her holster, making sure it was ready. A man had been killed in those woods, and if Dr. Faizal’s hunch was right, she couldn’t be too careful.

  Pulling out of the lot, she followed Tucker as he turned down a narrow one-lane road she’d passed earlier. She slowed when the trees grew so tight that her vehicle could barely squeak through without being scratched up. Ahead of her, Tucker drove a large beat-up truck and barreled through without another thought to his paint job. Just as she was about to honk at him and let him give her a ride instead of risking her SUV’s expensive paint, the road opened up and split three ways. She let go of the breath she’d been holding and pressed down on the accelerator to catch up.

  By the time the truck pulled to a stop in front of a newer style house with siding that mimicked wood planks, Ellie was completely turned around. She didn’t have cell service, which meant she’d have to rely on the helpful man to direct her back to town.

  He got out of his truck and motioned toward the woods.

  She grabbed her jacket and tote that held her notepad, and stepped onto the packed dirt, grateful she had thought to wear good walking shoes.

  “We’ll have to walk from here. I’d take you with the four-wheeler, but it’s in the shop.”

  “It’s fine. I’m always up for a good hike.”

  His grin was infectious. “That’s good ‘cause it’s a bit of a jaunt.” He took off walking, clearly expecting her to follow as he disappeared into a copse of trees that surrounded the mouth of a trail.

  “I’m a little surprised you remember where he was found.” She lengthened her strides to match his pace.

  He laughed. “Darlin’, the poor fella was the biggest news we’d had up here in these parts for as long as I’ve lived here.”

  “Speaking of these parts, where exactly are we?”

  She could tell Tucker loved the area he lived in as he surveyed the woods with pride. “It’s an old family farm that grew up wild after the family line died off. Now, it’s a little slice of heaven a lot of us call home.”

  “Who owns the land where he was found, someone from the family?”

  “It’s public land. The city sold off what it could and designated the rest as an open space preserve.”

  Ellie slowed to write down his answer on her notepad and checked her case notes, surprised to see no mention of the body’s location being on public land. Jones also hadn’t listed anyone as the owner, though he had several names written down and checked off, including Tucker Penland. “Is hunting allowed here, since it’s a preserve?”

  “Yeah, but it depends on the deer population since it would only act as control to protect the surroundin’ forest. Some years, there’s very little if any huntin’ allowed, others there ain’t enough hunters to cull the herd. It was mighty cold that winter. If somebody was out after a deer, it was a cold one.”

  “Does it get crowded during hunting season?”

  He shrugged. “No more than anywhere else.”

  Ellie nodded, following him up the narrow tr
ail and rethinking her choices. I should’ve brought an ATV, she thought wistfully, already tired and hope climbing the steep hill on this dry, cold winter day would warm her up. When he noticed her shivering, she smiled. “It’s colder than I expected it to be.” She rubbed her hands together, glancing up at the deceptively bright sunshine peeking through crowded branches of the trees. “I’m not dressed for this.”

  He shrugged off his canvas coat and draped it over her thin jacket. It was warm and smelled faintly of aftershave and good brisket. He was already heading back up the trail before she could object. “Better?”

  “Much, thank you. That was very kind.”

  He stopped at a large boulder and waited for her at a spot that gave a wide vista, the ground dropping off sharply at a tall cliff. When she made it to where he stood, he pointed to his right, and Ellie followed his gaze. “Over there is Mason Johnson’s homestead, and…” he turned in the direction they were headed and slightly west, “over there is the Covington place.”

  She referred to her notes and nodded, pointing with her pen. “And your friends, Mr. Firth and Mr. Hatch, both live close by? The detective who came out two years ago talked to them, Cara Covington also.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t talk to Cara Covington.”

  Ellie cocked her head to the side, wondering why she was surprised. Anger warmed her chest as she rechecked her notes. “It says that he did.”

  “Couldn’t have. She died ‘bout five years or so ago, but the place is still in her name.”

  Ellie glanced up at Tucker. “Did someone else buy the place?”

  “Naw. Her son Cody inherited it, just never put it in his name.”

  “I wonder why.” She jotted down Cody Covington’s name.

  “No need in wonderin’. The man’s been in prison a time or two. He wants his privacy.” Tucker’s eyes shined with humor as he shrugged. “He did his time and paid his price, can’t say I blame him.”

  “Can you show me how to get to his place so I can talk to him?” Maybe he’d be more friendly if she showed up with a neighbor.

  “I would, but he’s locked up again. Not sure why. Sheriff collected him about a week ago, and he hasn’t been back.”

  She noted that down while Tucker patiently waited for her to finish. “I can request an interview with him from wherever he’s jailed. That’s not an issue.”

  They started walking again with Tucker leading the way, just ahead of Ellie on the narrow trail but close enough that she could hear him when he spoke again. “It won’t do you any good to bother the Covington boy.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He was in the pen when the body was found back them years ago.”

  “Well, the medical examiner thinks the man was out here for over a month or two.”

  Tucker lifted one shoulder and shook his head without breaking stride. “Don’t matter.”

  “I’m sure you know why.” She shot him a smile when he threw a glance back over his shoulder.

  “He served a year last time he was in.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you for the information.” Ellie was disappointed the lead had dried up so fast, but she wrote it down anyway, making a note to check on Cody Covington’s dates incarcerated to see if he had indeed been in jail around the dates of John Doe’s demise.

  “Look it up anyhow. Good on you, I wouldn’t trust another man’s word over my own eyes neither.” He was still smiling when he stopped and pointed. “This is it.”

  The little section of dense woods looked exactly like every other area they’d been through. “Are you sure?”

  He pointed to a tree with a little wooden cross nailed to it. “It’s not much, but we felt called to do somethin’ for the poor man. Hell of a way to die, alone in the woods like that.”

  “That’s a nice gesture.” She tried not to think about what the man had suffered during his last moments of life, forcing her attention back to the patch of rotted leaves covering tufts of grass that lay dormant in the cold. “Is there anything you can tell me about the scene that might be helpful?”

  “Not much to tell.” His smile was apologetic.

  She kicked at the dead leaves, squatting down to move some of them around with a stick. “We’re still looking for the bullet.”

  “I’d be surprised if you found it. Between the body being dragged and the rottin’ foliage, don’t know how you would.”

  She straightened up, her brows furrowed. “The body was dragged?”

  “Dragged or rolled.” He gave her a look like she should know that. “Not sure which.” He pointed to a boulder about the size of a large tire, ten feet down the incline. “He was up against the boulder there, leaves piled around him. Coulda tripped and rolled or been dragged by a scavenger. They do that sometimes.”

  Ellie reread Jones’s notes on the crime scene diagram, but there was no boulder shown, and the “X” marking the body’s location was on the trail, not beside it. “Did someone move the body?”

  “From where I found it? No. Like I said, soon as I found the guy, I walked back to the house and called y’all.”

  “Smart move.”

  Ellie was silent for a long time, taking in the surrounding area and noting how landmarks matched up with Jones’s diagram. She made her own diagram of the scene—sans body—on her notepad, marking the spot where the cross hung and where Tucker had found the body. When she was finished, she gazed up at the homemade cross and sighed.

  Tucker lowered his head and removed his hat, made the sign of the cross before pulling the camo ball cap back over his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like much, does it?”

  “Not at all.” She wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was a bit embarrassed for her department if all Tucker Penland had told her was true.

  “Many men and women have died on this land over the centuries, and there’s little more than a memory to mark their passin’. That’s how nature is.”

  She shivered, despite Tucker’s warm coat around her. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “You’re quite welcome. I can lead you back to town if you want?”

  She shook her head. “Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll find my way.”

  Tucker smiled. “Thought you’d say that.”

  9

  Staring at the roasted new potatoes on her plate, Ellie jolted out of her thoughts as Nick’s foot nudged hers under the table. Nick used his eyes to gesture across the table at Helen Kline, and she realized that she’d checked out of the dinner conversation.

  Ellie tried to play it off, smiling at her mother when their eyes met.

  Helen didn’t smile back. “I suppose that means you didn’t hear me. I’d ask where I lost you, but I have a feeling I don’t want to know the answer.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ellie said with a sheepish smile. “I was admiring how perfect tonight’s dinner is.”

  Helen sniffed, just a little delicate inhale of air that spoke volumes. “Yes, I think we all noticed how you’ve been admiring your plate all through dinner without taking a bite. I’m not sure how you could possibly judge the meal without a taste. Is there something on your mind?”

  Ellie shrugged. “Not really. I’m just tired. There are so many cold cases to go through, and Jillian has this new software we’re trying out.” She sat up a little straighter, excitement for her work oozing out of every pore. “I’ve been really busy at work with this one case—”

  Helen held up her hand. “Darling, please. Save the details of your work for your colleagues. I don’t have to tell you that it’s not polite to discuss such gruesome things at Sunday dinner.”

  “Come on, Ellie.” Wes, her younger brother, jabbed her in the ribs. “We save talk about murder and kidnapping for Wednesday dinner. You should come. It’s a blast.”

  “Wesley, please.” Helen’s lips became pinched, and her dark eyes narrowed. “Eleanor, I know you are dedicated to your work, but your father’s doctor made it quite clear that he needs as little excitement in his li
fe as possible. He’s still recovering.”

  “I feel fine,” her father said under his breath. He caught Ellie’s eye and gave her a quick wink.

  Ellie bit back a sigh and took a bite of potatoes, savoring the garlic flavor on her tongue. “Cook sure outdid himself tonight. This is fantastic.”

  “I’ll be sure to let the chef know you enjoyed the meal. Now, back to what I was saying.” She paused to let out an exaggerated sigh. “Not that I think you heard any part of it, so I’ll start over. There is a charity dinner in two weeks, and you need to make an appearance.”

  Ellie stopped mid-bite and set her fork down. “Wow. Not even ‘I think you should go, Ellie,’ or ‘You can make a lot of connections, Ellie?’ Come on, Mom, you’re usually a little more diplomatic. What’s so important about this dinner that you can’t even pretend you’re suggesting I go for my own good?”

  Helen’s smile lacked any sense of amusement. “I’ve tried that in the past, Eleanor. Being gentle in suggesting you attend important functions, but you’ve declined every invitation. Why do you fight me on this?”

  “Because I don’t want to go.” She shrugged, picking up her fork again. “I’m really busy, and you know charity dinners aren’t my thing.”

  “Oh, boy.” Wes lowered his head and took a quick bite of his roasted chicken.

  Her mother’s lips parted, and she let out a whisper of breath before inhaling deeply and straightening her shoulders. “Not your thing?” Helen repeated the words slowly. “It’s a charity dinner, not a hobby. You’re being incredibly flippant. No one is asking you to set it up or devote any more than a night to it, and surely you realize that people will find it odd if everyone in our family but you attends. People will talk.”

  “Let them talk, Mom. If they’re that focused on my life, they need a hobby.” She scoffed, waving her fork in the air. “It’s not like I’m a celebrity. The dinner will be a success with or without me.”