Cold Conspiracy

by Cindi Myers

  In the cold of winter the cabins didn’t look so inviting. They stood with shuttered windows and padlocked doors in the ringing silence of the forest, like a forgotten ghost town. Nate moved silently through the deep snow, a wraith himself, slipping between the trees.

  Alert for any sign of more traps, he approached the cabins slowly, moving as stealthily as possible, hampered as he was by the crutch and the awkward air boot. He reached the cabin the traps had been taken from first. He could see them piled on the front porch, and the pale outlines where they had hung on the side of the building.

  He passed the other six cabins, pausing to scan the snow around each one for any sign of activity before moving on to the cabin where he had been snared. There were more signs of activity here—depressions covered over by fresh snow that marked the path of law enforcement vehicles in and out, churned earth where he had sat waiting for rescue, and new, stout padlocks on the front and back doors.

  Nate stood on the back porch of the cabin, searching through the trees. Though this cabin was the furthest back in the grouping, the forest road looped around behind it, so that anyone sitting on this porch, or looking out the back picture window, could hear approaching traffic, and even catch a glimpse of the vehicle through a gap in the trees.

  Nate studied that gap, then started walking, making his way through the trees until he reached an opening that widened out to provide access to the road. Someone could park a vehicle here, access it via the path through the woods, and be gone before anyone driving on the road reached the cabin.

  At the sound of an approaching vehicle, he shrank back into the trees, and watched as a Rayford County sheriff’s department vehicle sped by. Grinning, Nate made his way back to the cabin.

  He was waiting on the front porch when Travis and Gage pulled in. “Where’s your truck?” Travis asked as he mounted the steps.

  “I parked at a trailhead down the road,” Nate said.

  “That’s a long way to walk with a busted ankle,” Gage said.

  “I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

  “Whereas, we didn’t care.” Gage looked around them. “I guess you had the same idea we did.”

  “Alex and Tim must have been the squatters in this cabin,” Nate said.

  “It’s a good place to hide,” Gage said. “But they risked being trapped in here. There’s only one entrance or exit.”

  “Not exactly.” Nate stood. “Let me show you what I found.” He led them back through the woods to the clearing next to the road. “If they kept a lookout, they could be out of the cabin and gone before law enforcement reached them,” he said.

  “They could even set up an alarm to warn them when someone was coming,” Gage said as the three of them walked back to the cabin. “One of those cables you drive over and it rings a bell or something. Or a camera focused on the drive.”

  “We didn’t find anything like that when we searched the place,” Travis said.

  “It’s like the crime scenes,” Gage said. “They know how to clean up after themselves.”

  “We’re going to look again.” Travis paused at the door and pulled on a pair of gloves. “You can help if you want, Nate.”

  “Sure.” He accepted a pair of gloves. “It’s not as if I have anything better to do.”

  An hour later they had combed every inch of the small cabin and come up with nothing to link Alex and Tim to either the cabin or the murders.

  “They’ve cleared out of here,” Travis said. “We’ll check the other cabins, but I don’t think we’ll find anything.”

  “I walked around all of them when I arrived today,” Nate said. “I didn’t find any sign of activity at any of them.”

  “There are more of these summer cabins, aren’t there?” Gage asked.

  “There’s one more grouping like this, with six cabins, on the other side of the county,” Nate said.

  “Then that’s where we look next,” Travis said.

  “Let me go with you,” Nate said.

  Travis looked at the cast boot on his leg.

  “I’ll stay out of the action,” Nate said. “I won’t get in your way. But you need me there.”

  “Why is that?” Gage asked.

  “Because I have a key to the gate,” Nate said. “I can get you in there without anyone else knowing.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Jamie arrived for her shift Saturday afternoon, Nate met her in the hallway. He had shed the cast boot and traded the crutch for a cane, which recalled the costume he had worn last night—and everything else about last night. But Jamie was pretty sure he could have greeted her dressed as a clown and she would have still thought about last night. “Hello,” he said, the warmth in his smile making her heart beat a little faster.

  “Hi.” She nodded and started to move past him, determined to remain professional while she was on the job.

  He turned and walked alongside her. “Busy morning?” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah. We took the dogs to the vet.” Should she mention the dark SUV she had seen pulling out of the lot?

  “Did you catch the sheriff’s press conference this morning?” Nate asked.

  “No. I didn’t know there was one.” Was she supposed to have been there? No one had notified her. “What was it about?”

  “He’ll fill you in. There’s a meeting in five minutes.”

  “I saw the notice in the locker room.” Maybe she would bring up the SUV in the meeting.

  Jamie and Nate were the last to enter the situation room, where Travis stood at the end of the conference table, beside a large poster on an easel. The poster featured the enlarged photos of two young men, two sketches of men and a photograph of the man dressed in the pirate costume.

  “For those of you who might not have heard the press conference this morning, these are two men we want to question regarding the Ice Cold Killer murders.” Travis indicated the left photo, of a slender young man with light brown hair. “This is Alex Woodruff, also known as Al, also known as Lex. He may be using other names.” Travis consulted his notes. “He’s twenty-two years old, until recently an undergraduate at Colorado State University, where he was studying psychology. He was also involved in the university’s theatrical company, where he met Tim Dawson.”

  Travis indicated the second photograph, of a young man with dark, curly hair. “Tim, also known as Ty, is twenty-one, also a psych major, also active in the theatre company. As far as I have been able to determine, the two did not return to classes when they started up again last week. Previously they were staying in a cabin belonging to Tim’s aunt, on County Road Five. They left there some time before last week and may have broken into and been living at Sundance cabins, though they are no longer there.”

  Jamie and several others at the table looked at Nate. “Yeah, that’s the cabin where I was hurt,” he said.

  “Alex and Tim may have set those traps to slow down anyone who came after them,” Travis said. “Nate talked to them that morning near Snowberry campground. They were climbing, and introduced themselves as Lex and Ty.”

  “They’re not very creative with their aliases,” Gage observed.

  “They were driving a dark gray Toyota Highlander,” Nate said. “I made note of the license plate and the vehicle is registered to Timothy Dawson.”

  “Alex Woodruff and Tim Dawson were suspects for the first three murders,” Travis said. “We ruled them out after they supposedly left town. Now that we know they’re back in town, we need to bring them in and question them.”

  He tapped the drawings in the middle of the poster. “These are drawings the police artist from Denver made after Skype sessions with Henry O’Keefe and Tammy Patterson. As you can see, they bear some resemblance to Alex and Tim, though nothing definitive. We brought Henry and Tammy back in this morning, and Henry picked out Alex’s photo from a selection of photos w
e gave him, and identified him as the man he saw with Michaela Underwood the day before she was murdered. Tomorrow we’ll take the photo to the bank and see if any of Michaela’s coworkers recognize him. Tammy wasn’t able to identify the man who was posing as a woman who lured her to stop, probably because of his disguise.”

  Travis moved on to the photograph at the bottom of the poster. “This man was at the masquerade party at the community center last night,” he said. “He approached Deputy Douglas and tried to persuade her to come into the parking lot with him. When they were interrupted, he fled. He could be Alex or Tim in disguise, but we can’t be sure.”

  He laid aside the pointer and faced them. “I’ve released these images to the media, and I’ve issued a BOLO for Alex, Tim and their vehicle. We’re hoping someone will spot them and report the sighting.”

  “In the meantime, we’re going to keep hunting for them. Dwight, I want you and Jamie to come with me and Gage this afternoon. We’re going to check another set of summer cabins. These two have to be living somewhere, and since they broke into one cabin, they might try another.”

  He looked around the table. “Does anyone else have any questions, or anything to add?”

  Jamie raised her hand.

  “Yes, Deputy?”

  “This morning, as I was leaving Darcy Marsh’s veterinarian office, I saw a dark gray SUV, with the license plate obscured, exiting the parking lot.”

  “Do you think this was the same vehicle that drove by your house last night?” Travis asked.

  Jamie stared. How had Travis known about that vehicle?

  He must have read the question on her face. “Nate mentioned a vehicle fitting that description drove slowly past your house late last night,” he said.

  Nate! What else had he told his buddy, Travis, about last night? She tried hard to fight back a blush but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Yes, I think it was the same vehicle,” she said. “A dark gray SUV—it could have been a Highlander—with the license plate obscured.”

  “We’ll add that information to what we already know,” Travis said.

  She sat back, avoiding looking at Nate—or at anyone else. If the sheriff knew about her and Nate, how long would it be before everyone knew? Not that she was ashamed of having him spend the night, but she liked to keep her private life private. She didn’t want to be the subject of gossip.

  As soon as the meeting was over, she stood and made for the door. But Nate waylaid her in the hallway. “Jamie, wait up!” he called. “I’ll ride with you to the cabins.”

  She pretended she hadn’t heard, but that only made Nate raise his voice. “Jamie!”

  She whirled to face him. “What?”

  The word came out louder than she had intended. Now everyone was staring. She wished a hole would open in the floor and she could drop down into it.

  Nate clomped up to her. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look upset.”

  Aware of the others around them, she made for an empty office. Nate followed and shut the door behind him. If any of the others had seen them come in here—and they probably had, because cops didn’t miss much—they’d talk. But at least what they said would only be speculation. “Did you tell Travis you were at my house last night?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Nate said. “He needed to know about the SUV we saw. It could be important to the case.”

  “Did you tell him you spent the night?”

  “Yes.”

  She wanted to shake him but settled for clenching her hands. “Nate, how could you? He’s my boss.”

  “I told him I stayed in case the guy in the pirate costume decided to pay you a visit. For all he knows, I slept on the couch.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I respect your privacy,” he said. “And I’m not the kind of guy who shares private details like that with anyone else.”

  “Travis is your friend.”

  “Yes, but like you said, he’s your boss. I’m not going to talk about you with him. It wouldn’t be right.”

  She had never known Nate to lie to her before. Some of the tension in her shoulders eased. “Thank you. I’m sorry I overreacted. I just...” She shook her head.

  “You want to take things slow,” he said. “I understand. But remember—we’re both single. We don’t work for the same department. There’s nothing wrong with us having a relationship.”

  “I know.” She reached up and caressed his forearm. “But this is all so new...”

  He kissed her forehead. “I know. You want to be sure this is going to work for you before you say anything. I get that. And I can be patient.”

  “Thanks for understanding.” She wanted to melt into his arms and enjoy more than that gentle peck on the forehead. But she was on the clock, and they both had work to do. “Come on,” she said. “We’d better get going.”

  The Juniper Creek cabins were tucked alongside a frozen creek in a section of national forest up against the base of Dakota Ridge. Since Nate was riding with her, Jamie ended up leading the convoy of sheriff’s office vehicles. She stopped at the pipe gate that blocked the entrance to the cabins and Nate got out and post-holed through the snow to unlock one of half a dozen padlocks affixed to the chain around the gatepost.

  “Why do you have a key?” she asked, when he returned to the cruiser.

  “A buddy of mine owns one of the cabins. He lives in Denver now, so he gave me a key so I could check on the place for him.”

  As Travis had instructed, Jamie parked in the road at the bottom of a hill that led up to the cabins. The other deputies and the sheriff arranged their vehicles around hers to form a barricade across the road. Then they got out and gathered around the sheriff.

  “We’ll pair up and search every cabin for any signs of recent occupation,” Travis said. “Nate will wait here and radio if anyone approaches. If you see anyone, or anything that raises concern, radio for backup. And be very cautious. They set a booby trap at the other cabin, so it’s likely, if they’ve moved here, they’ve done the same.”

  Jamie and Deputy Dwight Prentice were tasked with searching the first three cabins. Six little residences formed a semicircle at the top of a rise, identical square cottages with front and back porches, metal roofs and board-and-batten siding painted forest service green. Heavy wooden shutters covered the windows, and stovepipes protruded from most of the roofs.

  They approached up the road. As Jamie followed Dwight, trying to walk in the tracks he left in the deep snow, she was uncomfortably aware that anyone at the top of that hill would be able to see them coming. Though they all wore ballistic vests, a shooter could still do a lot of damage, and even kill them.

  But no one fired on them, and the only sounds were the movements of the other members of the sheriff’s department. “It doesn’t look like anyone has come this way in a while,” Dwight said when they reached the first cabin. A set of elk antlers hung over the front door, and a breeze stirred wind chimes that hung from one corner of the eaves.

  Dwight tried the door, then knocked. “Sheriff’s department!” he called loudly. “Open up!”

  No one answered. She and Dwight hadn’t expected them to. A stout padlock secured the front door. But they had to follow procedure.

  Jamie peered through a gap in the shutters over the big front window, but could make out nothing in the darkness. “Let’s check the perimeter,” Dwight said.

  They each circled around one side of the structure and met at the steps leading up to the rear porch, which had been screened in. The screen door was open, revealing a patio table and a stack of lawn chairs. The back door into the house was locked.

  “Let’s check the other cabins,” Jamie said.

  She led the way this time to the second cabin in the circle. The front door of this one featured a hand-carved wooden sign identifying it as McBride’s Place. Snow had drifted around the foundation and buried the
back steps. As with the first cabin, Dwight and Jamie found no sign that anyone had been here in weeks.

  They had the same results at the third cabin. To Jamie, the whole enclave felt deserted, preserved under a blanket of snow, waiting for spring. If Alex and Tim had ever been here, they had moved on before the last big snow.

  They met Gage and Travis in front of the sixth cabin, and walked together back along the road toward the vehicles. “We didn’t see any sign that anyone has been here,” Dwight reported.

  “Some here,” Gage said. He scanned the thick woods around them. “It’s a good hiding place, but maybe too remote for our killers. The other cabins were closer to town and other people.”

  “None of the murders have occurred near here,” Travis said. “But they have to have shelter. We chased them out of the other cabin, so where did they go?”

  “Maybe they have a friend who’s putting them up,” Jamie said.

  “Or they broke into a summer home,” Dwight said. “There are plenty of those in the area.”

  Travis nodded, but said nothing.

  Nate met them at the gate. “Did you find anything?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Travis said. “You should have waited in the cruiser. It would have been warmer.”

  “I’ve been doing some investigating of my own,” Nate said. “I can’t let you have all the fun.”

  “What did you find?” Travis asked.

  “It might be nothing. Then again, it might be something.” He led them back through the gate, up the Forest Service road about fifty feet to a trailhead. “I started thinking,” Nate said. “This trail runs along behind the cabins, on the other side of the creek. It might be a back way in. And someone’s used it recently.” He indicated tracks from snowshoes. “Two people, as close as I can figure.”