by D. K. Hood
Kane leaned casually against the wall. “Did she speak to you at all?”
“Yes, she did and I was surprised she was fluent in Spanish. She said she was excited about going to look for her grandmother.” Rosa frowned. “She told me the real estate agent had a list of the properties her grandmother was interested in purchasing.”
“Was that the last time you saw her?”
“No.” She waved a hand at the motel room door. “I’d finished cleaning number twenty-four and was going into number twenty-three when I saw her leave her tray outside the room then get in her car. I didn’t see her come back.”
“What time did you see her leave?”
“I’m not sure.” Rosa screwed up her nose. “Maybe seven thirty. I don’t usually start cleaning the rooms so early but the guests in rooms twenty-four and twenty-three checked out at six.”
Kane made a few notes and flicked a glance over Rosa. Law enforcement scared her, by the way she twisted her hands in her apron. In fact, her fear of him trembled in her voice. He spoke to her using gentle tones to keep her at ease. “When did you notice the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door?”
“Much later, after eleven.” She shot a glance at Ricker as if seeking his permission. “Mr. Ricker sent me to clean number eighteen. I took clean towels down to Miss Woodward’s room and the sign was on the door.”
“Did you knock on her door?”
“Oh, no. I’m not in the habit of disturbing the guests if they put out a sign.” Rosa lifted her chin as if considering his next question. “I didn’t see anyone. Maybe you need to speak to Mrs. Bolton. She spies on everyone.”
Kane recalled the person peering at him through the window. “Would she be in number sixteen?”
“Yeah, and she’s one of our permanent guests.” Ricker moved forward looking anxious. “She’s an elderly lady and I don’t want you upsetting her. It’s not good for business having cops snooping around.”
“I’ll be discreet.” Kane cleared his throat. “I’ll speak to her then we’ll be on our way.” He smiled at Rosa. “Thank you for your assistance.”
He watched her scurry away and turned to Ricker. “Don’t enter the room until further notice. The sheriff will need to look over the crime scene. Police tape is like a brick wall; you go through it and I’ll arrest you. If Miss Woodward returns, I want you to keep her in your office and notify me or the sheriff immediately.” He reached in his pocket for one of his cards and handed it to him.
“Will do.” Ricker let out a long sigh and shook his greasy head. “Can I go now?”
“Yeah.” Kane motioned to Rowley and led the way to number sixteen. “Do you speak Spanish?”
“Yeah.” Rowley fell into step beside him. “This looks bad.”
“I’ll speak to Mrs. Bolton and see if I can get any information. Call Sheriff Alton and tell her what we learned from Rosa, then contact the real estate agent and get a copy of the list he gave Sarah. Ask him what time she left his office and if she mentioned where she was heading.” He snorted. “I’m wondering why he didn’t forward one to me as requested.”
“I have no idea.” Rowley pulled out his cellphone and grimaced. “Someone sure as hell was after something from her.”
“Yeah, my guess is they wanted the information in her mother’s letters.” Kane knocked on number sixteen and heard shuffling before a white-haired old lady peered through a crack in the door. He smiled at her. “Mrs. Bolton? I’m Deputy Kane. I was wondering if you happened to notice anyone hanging around the motel this morning between eight and eleven?”
“No one unusual. The two men who checked out and you is all.” Mrs. Bolton shook her head, making her jowls wobble. “I’m letting the cold in. Anything else?”
Kane shook his head. “No. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The door shut and he waved Rowley to the cruiser and listened to his one-sided conversation with Davis. When the deputy disconnected, he moved to his side. “Any luck?”
“Yeah, he is sending the list to my cellphone and has added the contact details of the owners. He said he dropped into the station earlier and gave the list of properties to Maggie. Must have been after we left for lunch.” Rowley pushed the cellphone in his pocket then pulled a pair of gloves on to his bluish fingers. “Something interesting—Sarah mentioned to him she was taking her car over to Miller’s Garage. She asked him where she could hire an SUV to tackle the back roads. He informed her Miller’s had loaners.” Rowley rubbed his chin and his dark gaze drifted past Kane to the slush-covered road. “Mr. Davis said he tried to discourage her from traveling in this weather but she insisted on following in her grandmother’s footsteps. She intended to show her photo around in case someone remembered her.”
“His account doesn’t make sense. I already informed her our deputies had interviewed most of the outlying ranchers and hadn’t found a trace of her grandmother.” Kane stamped the debris from his boots before opening the car door. He slid into the seat and waited for Rowley to get behind the wheel. “She didn’t come across to me as stupid. What would you do in her situation, considering Davis has supplied her with a list of properties, the owners’ names, and phone numbers?”
“I’d go down the list and call first. I’d ask if they’d shown the property to her grandmother or had any enquiries from her.” Rowley pulled his cap down over his cold, reddened ears then started the car. “I mentioned the same thing to Davis and he said the list he’d given Samantha was a drive-by list; all except two are occupied and require an appointment for viewing. He made a point of insisting she contact him to arrange visits to properties that interested her. He said he gave Sarah the same information.”
Kane drummed his fingers on one knee, thinking through the situation, then turned to Rowley. “Head for Miller’s Garage. If the car she hired has a GPS, we might be able to track the location. What’s the range like for cellphones in this area?”
“There are black spots, closer to the mountains.” Rowley drove out of the parking lot and headed down the main street, slowing to allow a large, shaggy, brown dog to cross in front of the vehicle. “I’ll be… There’s George Pringle’s dog off the leash again. We’ll have Mrs. Gilly back in the station complaining before long. For some reason that dog stands outside her house barking all night. You’d think the owner would keep it locked in the yard.”
“Don’t we have a dog catcher?”
“Nope.” Rowley flicked him a meaningful gaze. “Another thing the mayor denied.” He turned into Miller’s Garage and pulled up outside the office.
“Then we’ll start handing out tickets.” Kane snorted. “That mutt is going to cause an accident.” He slid out the car and, zipping his jacket against the blast of freezing wind, headed toward the door.
A blast of heat hit him, laced with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He inhaled and sighed. His next break could be hours away. A young attractive blonde sat behind the desk staring at a computer screen as if oblivious to their entry. He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon. My, that coffee smells good.”
“Well, I’m sure I can spare a couple of cups.” The woman stood slowly and gave him a slow, sultry smile. “You must be the new deputy, David Kane, I believe? I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Mary-Jo Miller. My dad owns this place.” She held out a hand tipped with bright red fingernails.
“Nice to meet you.” Kane removed a glove to shake her hand, and when she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand, he raised an eyebrow. “I will take you up on your offer of coffee, thank you.” He disentangled his hand and caught Rowley’s snort of amusement.
“What else can I do for you? Are you here about the insurance claim? Because I’m sure the company will contact the sheriff direct.” Mary-Jo moved with a subtle swing of her hips toward the coffee maker and filled two takeout cups. “I know how Jake takes his coffee. Sugar and cream for you too, David?” She flicked him a sultry gaze from beneath mascaraed lashes as she handed out the drinks.
Are
all the women in Black Rock Falls sex-starved? “Yes. Thank you.” Kane straightened and pulled on his glove. “I’m making enquiries about Sarah Woodward. I believe she hired an SUV earlier today. What time would that have been?”
“I’ll take a look. It was early, just as we opened.” Mary-Jo Miller tapped on the computer keyboard and smiled. “Just before we opened.”
“Thanks. We are trying to contact her and her phone is out of range. Does the vehicle she hired have a GPS tracking system?”
“I have no idea.” Mary-Jo looked at him as if he had spoken in Martian. “I’ll go ask my dad.” She walked to a door at the back of the office, opened it, and called to her father.
Mr. Miller, dressed in stained coveralls, strolled into the room, wiping his hands on an oily rag. “Yeah, I have two loaners here.” He tipped his head toward a fire-engine-red SUV parked out front. “Both have GPS, and I can track them on my cellphone. Give me a second and I’ll give you the coordinates.” He took a cellphone from his top pocket and bent his balding head. “She is stationary, on Bluff Road out near the Old Mitcham Ranch. That’s a good forty-five minutes from here. If she leaves now, you’ll pass her on the road.”
Kane handed Rowley his coffee, took out his notebook, and scanned the pages before jotting down the address. He thought he recognized the name. “As in the late Sheriff Mitcham?”
“Not him, his granddaddy. The ranch house has been empty for fifty years. Locals believe it is haunted and no one will go near the place. As far as I know, before he died, the sheriff divided the land. He added part onto his grandson’s property and sold the rest to the adjoining ranches. I’m not sure what he planned for the house and remaining acre or two.”
“Okay.” Kane shoved the notebook back in his pocket and took the coffee from Rowley. “Thanks for the coffee, Miss Miller.”
“Any time, and call me Mary-Jo. Black Rock Falls is a friendly town.” She gave him a beatific smile.
Kane escaped through the door, following Rowley’s deep chuckle with annoyance. “Do you know Bluff Road?”
“Yeah. It’s about half an hour past Sheriff Alton’s ranch.” Rowley climbed into the car and gave him a toothy grin. “Man, you are a chick magnet.”
“Just drive.” Kane gave him the Stare of Death. “Stop at the station. We’ll take my SUV and I’ll drive. You can keep a watch out for Miller’s vehicle, in case we miss her.”
“Sure. You’d better grab the two-way.” Rowley’s grin had not faded. “I’m not sure what the reception is like out there.” He chuckled. “Man, next time you want a boys’ night out, take me with you. I haven’t got lucky in months.”
Annoyed, Kane turned around in his seat and glared at him. “I’m not interested. Get your mind back on the job and don’t worry about the two-way. I have a satellite phone in my car.”
Thirty-Two
After picking up his vehicle, Kane drove through the gates of Jenna’s ranch and headed the SUV deep into white oblivion. During the half-hour drive, they passed two ranch houses with assorted outbuildings, and in the distance, a line of blackened trees stood out like sentries along the riverbank against the winter landscape. The isolated narrow road leading to Sarah’s current position had a bank of dirty gray slush, and the blacktop showed signs of frequent use since the last snowfall. He flicked a glance at Rowley. “You sure no one lives out here? It looks like this road has carried some traffic over the last couple of days.”
“This road gives access to the back acres of other ranches but it ends at the river about half a mile past the Old Mitcham Ranch. I would imagine the ranch owners use it during winter rather than travel overland in the snow.” Rowley shrugged. “If the house is on the market, who knows how many people have driven up here to view the property over the weekend.” He frowned. “I should have asked Davis if he’d taken any clients out to the place lately.” He pointed to an open gate in the distance. “There’s the entrance on the left.”
A wave of uneasiness pushed Kane’s survival instincts to full alert. From the impressions in the snow, more than one vehicle had visited in the past hours. He pulled the SUV to a halt. “How far from the road is the ranch house?”
“Some way—it’s in the middle of the acreage.” Rowley leaned forward in his seat and squinted into the distance. “You can’t see the buildings until you drive around the trees.”
“Nice and isolated for a drug lab.” Kane indicated with his chin toward the cut-up road. “For a dilapidated property, it sure has a lot of visitors. I think we should proceed with care. Will the trees give us cover to observe the house?”
“I think so but I haven’t been here since high school.” Rowley grimaced and color pinked his cheeks. “Some of us would ditch classes and drive out here to smoke dope. This place has been a local hang-out for kids for years.” He gave Kane a sideways glance. “Don’t worry. I grew up, and like I said, I don’t run with Rockford’s crowd anymore.”
Alton was right about you. Maybe you’re too honest for your own good. “It might be kids but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
The SUV bumped over the compacted snow on the dirt road and turned into a clump of trees. Kane slid out the driver’s seat and moved to the edge of the clearing. A number of buildings surrounded the old dwelling and the remnants of a corral sat beside a tin-roofed barn. The property appeared to be deserted. He listened intently for any unusual sounds. A drug lab would need a generator and ducted ventilation. Scanning the area, he sectioned off each part and made mental notes. He itched to look in the cellar but pushed his mind out of drug-enforcement mode and back to his current case. Sarah’s vehicle had to be on the property. She could not have left because they would have passed her on the road, and a red SUV with “Miller’s Garage” on the side would not be easy to miss. He climbed back in his car and drove onto the driveway.
Stopping near the front of the house, he held up a hand to prevent Rowley getting out of the car. The snow outside the barn swirled in a muddy gray slush and to one side a broken branch held remnants of mud as if someone had attempted to hide footprints. Oh, shit. Heart pounding, his Glock slid into his palm. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and reached for the door handle. “Stay behind me.”
Moving with caution around the edge of the building, Kane put one hand up to stop Rowley and peered through a crack into the barn. The red SUV sat in the middle, windows wound up tight. He did a visual sweep of the area. “All clear.” He slipped inside and checked the vehicle, then did a quick reconnaissance of the barn. “She’s not here.”
He ran across the small courtyard and flattened against the wall of the house. Bobbing his head back and forth, he took the chance of peering into a window covered with dust and laced in cobwebs. Nothing moved and he waved Rowley to his side then tried the front door. The hinges squeaked, the piercing noise loud enough to alert anyone inside the house. He raised his voice. “Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department.”
The silence within was deafening. He counted to ten then moved inside, easing down the hallway and scanning each room. The kitchen door stood open, framing an old wood stove, and the smell of candlewax hung in the air. Waving Rowley into position on the opposite side of the hallway, he moved inside and crouched, ready to fire. A few blackened candles sat in the middle of an old wooden table. Piles of trash, mainly soda cans and cigarette packets, overflowed a rusty bucket and spilled across the floor. He moved along the wall and kicked in the pantry door.
Empty. The place was empty.
“Clear.” Kane holstered his weapon. “No one has been here for ages. Look at our footprints in the dust, which means Sarah didn’t come inside the house. We’d better go and check outside.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stared out the kitchen window. “Do you know if there’s a root cellar?”
“Yeah.” Rowley stared out the front door. “There’s one in the barn.”
Kane took off at a jog and barreled into the barn. He searched the floor, kicking at the piles of debris
to clear the way, then bent and peered under the SUV. “Dammit, the door is under the vehicle.”
Using his gloved hand, he pulled open the car door, slipped the stick into neutral and took off the handbrake. “We’ll push it out of the way.” He moved to the back of the car and stared at Rowley. “What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me you believe the crap about this place being haunted?”
“Yeah, I do.” Rowley walked slowly inside the barn, eyes flicking from side to side. “The curse is real.” He helped shove the SUV the necessary few feet to expose the entrance. “There’s no way I’m going into that root cellar, not without backup.”
“Right. So you don’t think I’m good enough backup. Too bad if someone is dying down there, huh?” Kane gave him a long, hard stare, good enough to make suspects wet their pants. “I could order you, but if you haven’t got the balls to back me up then at least help me open the damn door.” He grasped one of the brass handles and Rowley took the other. “On the count of three. One, two, three.”
The heavy wooden doorway groaned open and a thick metallic smell burned his nostrils, taking him straight back to a mass murder scene he would rather forget. Fuck! “This is the Black Rock Falls Sheriff’s Department. Is anyone down there?”
Not a sound drifted through the stench of hot blood, piss, and shit.
He moved away and pushed a sheet-white Rowley toward the barn door. “Go and get the flashlight from the glove compartment. I’ll see if I can reach the sheriff.” He pulled out his cellphone, and finding no signal, he followed Rowley to his SUV.
He grabbed the flashlight from Rowley. “I’m taking a look in the root cellar. The satellite phone is in a holder under the dashboard. Contact Alton and keep her on the line until I see what’s down there.”
“Y-you sure you don’t want to wait for backup?”
“You’re my backup. I need you to stay alert. From the smell, whatever’s down there is injured and whoever was here has covered their tracks and left.” Kane gave him a long, steady look. Keeping his expression bland, he gripped Rowley’s shoulder. “Brace yourself for the worst-case scenario. It’s probably Sarah.” He strolled toward the barn, head erect and back straight. Showing fear to a young deputy was not an option.
