Don’t Tell A Soul: A gripping crime thriller that will have you hooked

by D. K. Hood

  Kane forced the panic down and stood. “Let’s go.” He strode to Magnolia’s desk. “Keep trying to reach the sheriff. If you contact her, call me. I’m heading out to the Clough piggery with Rowley.” He went to Walters’ booth, glad to see he had checked in for his second shift. “I want you to go out on patrol. Drive anywhere you think the sheriff might have visited.” He let out a long sigh. “Has Jenna ever gone off alone before?”

  “All the time before you arrived.” Walters shrugged. “She’ll be fine. Tough lady, that one, and independent.”

  Kane straightened. “I’m acting on worst-case scenario. Start searching for her now. If I find anything suspicious at the Clough piggery, I’ll do a search and send him back here with Daniels. Right now, Clough is shaping up as our main suspect.” Kane took a deep breath to drop into combat calm. He needed his wits about him. “Concentrate on finding Jenna and let’s hope to God, she is okay.”

  “Right you are.” Walters took his jacket from the back of his chair and headed for the door.

  Kane marched into Jenna’s office and unlocked the arms’ cabinet. Clough was an unknown quantity and he did not intend to walk into a potentially hostile situation without weapons. He filled his pockets with mags, locked the cabinet, and turned to go. “Oh, shit.”

  The office door had swung shut and on the back hanging on a peg was Jenna’s satellite phone.

  Incredulity slammed into him. He flung open the door and waved Rowley to join him. “How far away is the piggery?” He handed a rifle to Rowley.

  “A good half-hour’s drive or up to an hour at least if the roads are bad.” Rowley’s mouth turned down. “Are you bringing these extra weapons because you think he kidnapped the sheriff?”

  If he has, we’re probably too late. “Right now, I have no reason to believe she went anywhere near Clough’s piggery, and Pete has been watching him all morning so it’s unlikely.” Kane shrugged into his coat then pulled his woolen cap over his ears. “We’re going to speak to a potential psychopathic killer and taking these weapons is normal procedure.”

  “I’m nervous about what we might find out there.” Rowley’s face paled. “If he is a serial killer, he could have been killing since he got out of jail.”

  Kane checked his Glock, slid a bullet into the chamber, and dropped it back into the holster at his waist. “If Clough is our man, he’ll have me to deal with and I don’t take too kindly to men who brutalize people, especially women.”

  His cellphone rang. “Kane.”

  “I think I have an idea where Sheriff Alton went.” Walter’s voice sounded jovial.

  Kane rolled his eyes. “Where?”

  “I dropped into Aunt Betty’s and asked Susie if she’d seen her. She said the sheriff mentioned taking a drive to speak to the Daniels brothers.”

  “Okay, thanks for letting me know.” He disconnected and shot a glance at Rowley. “How far is the Daniels’ ranch from the piggery?”

  “Not far.”

  Which would place Jenna in the vicinity of a serial killer. Kane rubbed a hand down his face. His head throbbed and anxiety cramped his gut. There had been three unsuccessful attempts on Jenna’s life and she had gone off alone without telling a soul.

  Fifty-Three

  After spending hours trying to convince the judge to issue a search and arrest warrant for Stan Clough, then a seize order for Rockford’s computers, the last thing Jenna wanted to do was return to the office and confront Kane. She picked up a sandwich and coffee from Aunt Betty’s Café and headed to the Daniels’ ranch, relieved to have a professional excuse to visit her only friends in Black Rock Falls.

  She turned off the highway and negotiated the pile of snow outside the Daniels’ ranch. The old cruiser’s engine sent billows of steam into the air, blocking her view. She slowed and negotiated the winding driveway toward the palatial ranch house. The sweeping front steps reminded her of the old Southern plantation houses, and standing out front, waiting to greet her, was Dean Daniels, the eldest of the three brothers. Happy to see a familiar face, she gave him a wave. After discovering it was Dean’s phone number in Sarah’s purse, she had decided to use the excuse for a visit. She doubted the Daniels boys had any information on Sarah Woodward. If they had spoken to her prior to her murder, they would have mentioned it to Pete.

  In truth, she needed company outside of the Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department. For a while, she could push the now uncomfortable reality of working in close proximity to David Kane to the back of her mind. After all, she got on well with the brothers, and Dean was closer to her age, not to mention strikingly handsome with his collar-length black hair and teasing grin. She pulled the old car close to a snow-covered garden bed and pushed open the door. “Afternoon. Sorry to come by without notice. I need to ask you a few questions but I won’t disturb your chores too long.”

  “I can’t believe you’re driving Pete’s cruiser. I thought it must be at the wreckers after seeing him driving Walters’ cruiser.” Dean pushed a hand through his damp hair and glanced at the car. “The Cloud Express, we call that heap of shit. It overheats the moment you push it over forty miles an hour.” He waved her inside. “Coffee?”

  “I’m dying for one.” Jenna could see the kitchen down a passageway toward the back of the house. “Mmm, I can smell it brewing from here.”

  “You might as well sit down and rest awhile. Pete’s car will need water and time to cool down before you leave. I’ll get Dirk to take a look at it while we’re chatting.”

  She moved along the passageway, noticing the lived-in yet clean look of the sitting room. Dirk Daniels was at the table sharpening his hunting knife; both men smelled as if they had just stepped out of the shower. “Hey.”

  “Mornin’. What brings you to our humble abode?”

  The kitchen had dirty plates on the table and she pushed them to one side and took a seat. She examined his wickedly handsome face. This man could charm the legs off a donkey. “I came to speak to you about Sarah Woodward’s murder.”

  “Nasty business.” Dirk ran the blade down the whetstone and examined the edge. “I guess you’ve come here to tell us we’ll get the job of cleaning up the mess?”

  Uncomfortable by his nonchalant attitude following a brutal murder, she leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure there are cleaners of crime scenes available. I’ll make enquiries if you like?”

  “Sure, enquire away, but not many locals will go near the place.” Dirk sheathed the blade at his waist then pushed to his feet. “Did I hear Dean mention you came here in Pete’s cruiser?”

  “Yes, I’m driving it for a couple of days.” She grimaced. “I’m waiting for a replacement but you know insurance companies, it could be a month or so. I wish the mayor would supply the funds for a couple of new vehicles. SUVs would be more suitable. The old car outside barely goes over fifty.”

  “If you pushed the old girl, she’ll need tending.” Dirk pulled on a pair of black leather gloves then held out his hand. “Give me the keys. I’ll refill the radiator before you leave.” His gaze moved from her face to rest on her breasts. “I wouldn’t want you stranded out there in the snow.” He raised his attention back to her face and rolled his wide shoulders. “We’re a long way off the main highway and no cellphone coverage. You’d be a popsicle before morning.”

  “I’ve already had one close call. I don’t fancy another one, especially as I dropped by without informing my deputies.” Jenna pulled the front of her jacket closed then reached in her pocket for the keys. She dropped them into Dirk’s hand and offered him a smile. “Thank you.” The memory of finding John Helms’s battered body flashed into her mind and she wondered how much Pete Daniels had told his brothers about the case. “Did Pete mention the other murder? John Helms? Apparently he was looking for work in the area.”

  “Pete chatters like a monkey every time he visits. I tend to turn off most times.” Dirk shrugged. “People don’t drop in here looking for work. I told you that the last time you
came by. We are a little too isolated for casual callers.”

  Jenna remembered the visit and Dean’s problem with a horse. The poor thing was making an awful noise. “How is the horse now? The one giving birth and having a hard time?”

  “Dean put it out of its misery.” Dirk flicked a glance at his brother then back to her. “I told him you’d be asking after that horse. Damn shame, it was fun to ride.”

  Mortified, Jenna frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have a new one for him real soon.” Dean turned from the bench to look at her over one shoulder. “How do you like your coffee?”

  “Make sure you give her our special blend, not the instant garbage.” Dirk’s mouth curled at the edges. “I’d say she likes her coffee strong and sweet.”

  “You’re right about sweet, I’d like three sugars, please, and cream if you have it?”

  “Sure have.” Dean gave his brother a meaningful look and indicated toward the front door with his chin. “I’ll sit and chat to Jenna while you check out the cruiser.”

  “I’m not sure about leaving you alone with an armed woman.” Dirk wiggled his eyebrows at her. “She might be more than you can handle.”

  Jenna grinned at him. “I’m sure I can control myself for the next ten minutes or so.”

  “Go, or we’ll be here all night.” When Dirk headed for the door, Dean slid into the chair opposite. “Now what’s all this about slipping away from the office without telling anyone? Had a spat with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Efficient?”

  Jenna took the steaming mug from him and smiled. “Sort of.” She leaned back in her chair. “I just needed to get away from the job for an hour or so.”

  “So, what brought you to our doorstep? You mentioned the girl, Sarah, someone?”

  “Yeah, Sarah Woodward. She had a list of properties her grandmother apparently visited, and your contact number was on a piece of paper in her purse. I wondered if she called or dropped by last Monday.” She sipped the coffee and sighed. The rich brew slid across her taste buds and she took another drink. “Man, this is nice coffee. It’s like a warm hug.”

  “Is Sarah the name of the murdered girl?” Dean inclined his head, watching her closely. “Some woman called. She didn’t give her name but asked if we’d shown an old woman a property we had for sale. I thought she had the wrong number.” He shrugged. “I had no idea what she was talking about until Pete called me on Monday about the murder at the Old Mitcham Ranch. He told me he’d put the place on the market as a surprise. Of course, I called John Davis and removed it from the listing.” He shook his head. “You know, for a deputy, Pete was stupid. I mean, what idiot does something like that without discussing it with the family?”

  Jenna peered at him over the rim of the mug. “He is a little naive. I guess most people are at his age.”

  “Like Pete? Nah, we are the complete opposite. He’s soft like our mother, a useless excuse for a man. You should have seen him when she died, man, he cried like a baby. I don’t know how you cope with him. You are aware he tells us every intimate detail of your life? He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

  Taken aback by his anger toward his brother, she blinked in surprise. “I had some idea he relayed information to you but he is young and inexperienced. I’ll soon whip him into shape.”

  “I think Pete is past help.” Dean turned his mug around on the table then lifted his gaze to her. “Getting back to the Old Mitcham Ranch, I expect it will be some time before the forensics team has finished their enquiries?”

  “No, it’s all done and you can arrange for the cleaners—if you can find anyone to venture down into the root cellar. I doubt you’ll have much luck selling the place.” Jenna sipped again and a warm glow started from her toes and spread. Lethargy spread over her and she yawned. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Drink the coffee. It will make you feel better.” Dean smiled at her. “Do you have any leads? Pete mentioned you think Josh Rockford might be involved, and Stan Clough too.”

  “I can’t give you details, sorry, but whoever killed Sarah knows how to cover their tracks. Forensics didn’t find a thing.” She held a finger to her lips and giggled. “Shh, don’t tell Kane I told you.” What is wrong with me?

  Fifty-Four

  Kane pulled up behind the cruiser parked behind a clump of bushes not ten yards from the gate to Clough’s piggery. When Deputy Daniels did not get out of the vehicle to greet him, he slid from the driver’s seat, and with one hand on the handle of his Glock, strode toward the vehicle.

  The cruiser was empty.

  He glanced toward Rowley and raised both eyebrows. “You don’t think he went in alone, do you?”

  “Nah. He hasn’t got the balls.”

  The hairs on the back of Kane’s neck stood to attention. He pulled Rowley behind the cruiser and did a visual scan of the area. The snow around Pete’s cruiser appeared undisturbed but the road to the piggery twenty feet away was clear of snow from recent traffic. “I don’t like the look of this one bit. If Pete had wanted to speak to Clough alone or with the sheriff, he would have driven, not walked.”

  He moved to the back of the SUV to retrieve his rifle. He wanted it close by, just in case. “We’ll go in on foot and take a look around. Keep your wits about you and watch me for signals.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rowley followed him from the car, keeping low.

  The front of the house appeared deserted, with no cars parked outside. Clough had recently cleared the snow from the driveway leading to the main house and barn. He held up one hand to stop Rowley and listened. He could hear the clink, clink, clink of a chain passing through a pulley and the grunt of a man doing heavy labor. He pointed at the barn and placed one finger over his lips to keep Rowley silent. Stealthily, he headed for the outside of the building and, keeping his back to the wall, edged toward the entrance. He bobbed his head around the corner, but instead of seeing Clough, a pool of blood dripping from a line of pig carcasses met his gaze. Clough used the area as a killing shed. He listened but only the sound of pigs grunting nearby reached him. Turning back to Rowley, he shook his head. “Clear. Noise carries through these huge sheds; I heard a man using a pulley before. It must be coming from the piggery. We’ll go round back of the barn and use the tree line for cover.”

  “Okay.” Rowley jogged the length of the barn then paused at the corner and peered around. He glanced back over one shoulder. “Clear.”

  Kane ran through the snow, giving Rowley the lead, then pulled him up before they reached the open stretch before the piggery. He pointed to a line of car tracks running from the perimeter of the fence close to the highway and dropped his voice to a whisper. “We’ll go round back.” Sticking to the tree line, his feet sunk deep in snow as he led the way slowly toward the back of the piggery. Kane examined the area, taking in escape routes and possible ambush positions. He turned to Rowley. “Cover me.”

  Keeping low, he dashed across the open space and waited a few seconds before waving Rowley to his side. They moved toward the entrance and Kane pointed out footprints in the snow. He handed Rowley his rifle and pointed to the door. With care, he reached for the handle and turned it slowly, wincing at the sound of rusty metal grinding. He pushed the door open and a rush of warm stink hit him. More fresh blood. His stomach rolled and he pushed down the sudden rush of apprehension clawing at his guts. Keeping his back flush to the wall, he called out, “Black Rock Falls Sheriff’s Department, I’m entering the premises. Come out with your hands up.”

  He heard a man swearing and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Turkey-peeking around the door, a wave of terror smashed into him at the sight of a naked body curled on the blood-spattered cement floor. His gaze traveled over white buttocks covered in gore to a massive steel hook sunk between the shoulder blades. He pushed his rifle into Rowley’s hands and met his gaze. “We have found our killer. Cover me.”

  Gathering his courage, he moved into the
opening and took a defensive stance, holding his Glock in both hands and aiming at the man standing over the body like a predator protecting its prey. The man with dead sunken eyes gaped open-mouthed at him in surprise. He gripped a chain in his filthy hands. From what Kane could see, he had been using the block and tackle to lift the body into the pigpen. Disgust and rage rolled over him. “Get your hands up or as God is my witness, I’ll blow off your fucking head.”

  To his surprise, the man dropped the chain and complied. Aiming his weapon at the man’s chest, he scanned the surrounding area. Apart from the pen filled with noisy pigs, the man and the blood-soaked body, the area appeared to be empty. Kane eased inside the piggery with Rowley close behind. “Keep your weapon aimed at him and shoot him if he moves a muscle.”

  He took a few steps toward the body and crouched to check vital signs. He rolled the body over, and bile rose up the back of his throat at seeing Pete Daniels’ sightless gaze. “Jesus. It’s Pete.”

  Face battered and bruised, Pete’s head hung on a strange angle. As Kane made sense of the brutality before him, he realized someone had broken Pete’s neck. The cause of the blood was one single wound under the ribs. Keeping his Glock trained on the man, he straightened.

  “He’s dead.” The quivering man with the sunken eyes stared at him. “They said they didn’t have time to play with him, he died real quick.”

  Crushing the need to open fire and kill the simpering animal standing before him, he waved Rowley forward. “Cuff him.”

  Rowley had not moved.

  Kane turned his head to look at the white-faced man beside him. Rowley’s face held an expression of sheer terror. “Rowley, look at me. We can’t do anything to help Pete now and I need you to keep it together. Is that Stan Clough?”