The Scorekeeper

by Dustin Stevens

  Knowing that the man was being facetious in reference to the intense lights, the glow brighter than the stadium lights of a local high school on Friday nights, Reed didn’t bother to comment.

  “I talked to Grimes on the way out here,” he said. “Got confirmation that Sheila Damien was Della Snow’s mother.”

  Catching his use of the past tense, Greene said, “Was?”

  “Yeah,” Reed said, nodding slightly. “Doc Mehdi said Della told her as much. Grimes is looking into particulars, but after everything went down, looks like she moved to Oregon and changed her name.”

  “Connected?” Gilchrist asked.

  Turning toward the lights extended out before them, Reed said, “Only so much as he was forced to go after the daughter instead of the one he really wanted.”

  Leaving it at that, the quartet took off at a light jog. Using the twin rows of cruisers lining the streets as a guide, they went down the center of the road, moving fast.

  The sweat that had started in the car continued to run down Reed’s face as he pounded forward, the plastic bag in hand. By his side, Billie kept pace beside him, attuned to the anxiety he was feeling, never more than a couple of feet away.

  For more than two hundred yards, they saw not a single other person. Not until they were almost to the end of the twin rows did dark silhouettes come into view, outlined by the swirling lights of the cruisers.

  Grouped into a loose cluster, they seemed to all notice the approaching group at once, fanning themselves out across the road as Reed and the others approached.

  Pulling to a stop, Reed felt his breath catching in his chest, his back wet with sweat. Slowing to a walk, he reached into the front pocket of his jacket and extracted his badge, waving it for all to see.

  “Detective Reed Mattox, CPD, 8th Precinct.” Hooking a thumb to his right, he added, “My partner, Billie, and Officers Greene and Gilchrist.”

  Not sure exactly who he was addressing, Reed paused, waiting to see who emerged from the crowd.

  The group before him numbered almost two dozen in total, ages ranging from younger than Gilchrist to older than Greene. If forced to guess, Reed would say the assembled mass represented most of the available manpower in West Jefferson, many not even in uniform.

  Considering what had happened earlier in the night with McMichaels and Jacobs, he understood completely.

  Starting on the far side of the tangle, a single voice could be heard shoving its way through the crowd. One at a time, Reed could see bodies shifting out of the way, the person coming closer before sneaking between the two men standing closest to Reed.

  “Captain Genevieve Ludgate,” the woman said, closing the gap between them and thrusting a hand to Reed. Standing only as tall as his shoulder, her hair was cut short, hanging in loose curls around her head. Dressed in black tactical gear, she had a holster strapped to her thigh and fingerless gloves on her hands.

  Accepting the shake, Reed said, “Captain, thank you for getting here so quickly. We appreciate it.”

  Releasing the shake, Ludgate turned to the side, extending a hand. “Thanks for calling us in. Sometimes the boys from CPD like to turn these things into dick-measuring competitions with the surrounding locals.

  “Especially once they find out the captain is a woman.”

  Having spent more than a decade in the department, Reed agreed entirely with the first half of her statement. Overstated machismo and rampant insecurity seemed to be an omnipresent part of the job.

  What he didn’t agree with was her thinking it had anything to do with her gender, he and Billie having received the same many times.

  Moving right past the comment, Reed said, “We’ve got a young woman that’s been nailed into a box and buried in the ground and we have reason to believe she’s somewhere out here. Anything you can tell me about the property?”

  The team from West Jefferson fanned out behind them as Ludgate led Reed over to the edge of the road, a gravel driveway extended straight back. A white board fence lined the front of the spread, the yard filled with stately elm and maple trees just getting their leaves for the year.

  “House sits about eighty yards off the road,” Ludgate said, motioning out ahead of her. “Pair of barns behind it.”

  “You’ve had eyes inside?” Reed asked.

  “No, one of our guys lives down the way.”

  Twisting at the waist, Reed scanned the crowd. “Who?”

  Just behind him, a thirty-something with red hair cut short raised a hand. Dressed in jeans and fleece, he stepped forward, his hand resting on the butt of his service weapon.

  “Have you seen Ethan Mabry here recently?”

  “Him personally?” the man said, “No. For the past few years, there’s been a service that comes out and does the lawn care once a week, but that’s it.”

  Grunting, Reed turned back toward the spread. “Any lights? Signs of someone living here?”

  “None,” the man replied.

  Continuing to scan the front, Reed tried to superimpose where they were with the surrounding lands. Pushing in from every direction was either forest or farmland, both providing ample opportunities for someone to flee on foot.

  Especially if they had seen the laser light show going on out front.

  “Captain, how many men do you have?” Reed asked.

  “Twenty-one, myself included,” Ludgate replied.

  “Twenty-three, counting us,” Greene added.

  Turning his chin just a moment at the sound of Greene’s voice, Reed moved back to face forward. “Twenty-three,” he repeated, his mind working, formulating the best way to proceed.

  “Okay, twenty-three,” Ludgate said. “What are you thinking?”

  “Right now, my main concern is that girl,” Reed said. “She went in the ground hours ago, there’s no way of knowing if she’s got any air left.”

  Across from him, Ludgate nodded, her mouth pulled into a tight line.

  Extending his right hand before him, Reed wagged the plastic sack toward her and said, “This is a personal effect from her apartment. I’m going to give Billie here another hit of it and then send her tracking. If she’s here, or even been here, we’ll know it.”

  “Okay,” Ludgate said.

  “I’ll need one person with me,” Reed said. “I have my service piece, but I’ll have to split attention between my partner and my surroundings. I’ll need someone with a sharper eye beside me.”

  “Everybody else forms a perimeter, starts working their way in,” Ludgate said, jumping ahead to the conclusion.

  It was choppy, a far cry from what he would prefer, but they just didn’t have the time to put together anything more involved.

  And Reed suspected every person there knew it.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Reed grasped either side of the plastic bag between his hands, holding the top open. Not needing to worry about how long it had been inside, or if the scent was still fresh, he let Billie take in long pulls, reacquainting herself with the scent.

  And just like he suspected, it took her only a pair of quick sniffs before the smell was drawn back to the fore, ready to be seized on.

  “That’s it?” Ludgate asked.

  Standing a few feet away from him, her legs were spread into an upright sprinter’s stance, weight balanced, ready to rocket forward. Gripping her gun in both hands, she held it near her shoulder, barrel pointed toward the sky.

  “That’s it,” Reed said, dropping the bag on the ground in the center of the driveway.

  If the next few minutes went to plan, there would be no need for it again. If not, it would still be there waiting for them on their return.

  Drawing his own weapon, Reed grasped it between his palms as well, arms extended, aimed toward the ground. “Everybody in position?”

  In the last minute or so, every other person had fanned out wide to either side. Moving in concert, they had disappeared almost instantly, only the occasional flash of red and blue light catching them a
s they made their way through the trees surrounding the house.

  “All set,” Ludgate replied.

  “Search!”

  The suddenness and intensity of the command seemed to startle the captain for a moment, her body flinching slightly. As fast as it arrived, the moment seemed to pass, snapped back to the present by Billie hurtling past them.

  Nothing more than a black specter, she charged forward, her head swinging from side to side, looking for any sign of the scent.

  Shifting his body so his back was toward Ludgate, Reed moved down the driveway. Sure to stay no more than a few strides behind his partner, he crossed one leg over the other, alternating his focus between her search and the yard around them.

  A few feet away, he could hear the captain’s feet scraping against gravel, her posture and movements matching his own, all three of them keeping a measured pace.

  The same constant tension Reed had felt for most of the night settled into his stomach as he followed Billie forward. With every step that ticked by without an alert, each pass from side to side, he could feel it drawing tighter, his worst fears coming closer to reality.

  That Della Snow wasn’t here. That they had wasted the last bit of time she had on a foolish errand. That the story they thought they had put together was wrong and they were no closer to finding the girl than they were hours before.

  The mere thought of such a thing caused his pulse to race, his body heat rising. Clamping his teeth down, he nudged closer to Billie, practically willing her to catch the scent, to charge forward the way he’d seen her do so many times before.

  On the edge of the property, he could see officers dodging between trees. With their weapons drawn, they watched the procession as it made its way up the driveway, the house drawing closer before them.

  For a moment, all sound seemed to bleed away. There were no birds in the sky, no breeze pushing the leaves above. Nothing but the sound of Billie drawing in deep breaths, her paws scraping through gravel.

  In the quiet still of the night, the instant Billie finally found what she was looking for was as pronounced as a thunderclap. A shift from the steady, even pulls of searching into the short, sharp sniffs of a clear scent, Reed jerked his attention to his partner, seeing the telltale snap of her body.

  “She’s got it,” Reed whispered, unable to keep the adrenaline he was feeling out of his voice.

  Beside him, a similar switch took place, Ludgate jolting herself to face forward, switching her focus from the dog to the house ahead.

  “She’s here?”

  “At the very least, she was at some point.”

  Knowing what would come next, having seen the change that overtook Billie when she was on the trail, he lowered his weapon. “You got us?”

  “I got you,” Ludgate replied.

  The words were no more than exchanged before Billie bolted forward. An inky blur moving through the darkness, she almost sprinted, the scent so strong it was as if she was snapping it out of the air.

  Abandoning his shooting stance, Reed pounded forward to keep up, a two-story farmhouse filing by on the left. Keeping a steady pace, they tore down the center of the driveway, making a wide loop around to the backyard.

  With each step, gravel crunched underfoot as they moved on, the pair of barns Ludgate had mentioned before coming into sight. One tall, with a steepled roof, the other was just a single story, appearing to be more of a garage. Both sat still and dark, not so much as a security light punctuating the night.

  Sitting on either side of the driveway, Billie made no effort to turn toward either one, keeping her head lowered as she shot forward.

  Reed’s lungs began to burn as he kept pace behind her, lactic acid starting to collect in his thighs. Lifting his chin toward the sky, he drew in deep gulps of air, his Glock still gripped in his right hand.

  Della Snow was there. She had to be. If not in one of the barns, then somewhere on the grounds.

  Billie was never wrong. The girl had been there, the scent too strong for it to be any other explanation.

  They just had to hope they weren’t too late.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  The gravel driveway ended in a wide turnabout, an enclosed circle formed like a fist on the end of an arm. Giving it to no heed, Billie shot straight through, passing from the loose stone and across the backyard, picking her way between the trees.

  With each passing moment, she seemed to increase her speed, Reed sprinting to keep pace. Behind him, he could hear Captain Ludgate panting, her footfalls heavy on the grass.

  To either side, he could just make out the shadowy figures of fellow officers, everyone openly turning and staring at the odd trio sprinting across the yard.

  Each step brought heightened anxiety, the fear of what they might find. Hiding Della in the barn would have been one thing. It would have provided easy access. Made for an easy discovery.

  Taking her out back, moving her into the woods, wasn’t a form of holding her prisoner.

  It was a way of getting rid of her.

  “The woods,” Reed muttered, shoving the words out between gasps for air. “She’s headed to the woods.”

  In response, Ludgate gave nothing more than a grunt.

  One moment, they were moving across the backyard, recently clipped grass underfoot, the sporadic tree cover blotting out the moon above. The next, Billie was plunging them through a narrow break in the fence line, little more than a footpath extended out through thick growth.

  Tall grass slapped at Reed’s legs as he fell in behind her, the smell of damp earth filling his nostrils. The temperature dropped more than a half-dozen degrees, all light and sound disappearing.

  Moving on little more than touch, making sure to stay close on Billie’s heels for guidance, he moved forward, every moment ratcheting the mix of emotions swirling within. Each one brought the images of what he might find in that box closer to the fore.

  The silent pursuit stretched on for more than a hundred yards before the faintest hum found its way to Reed. Sounding like something akin to the beating wings of a bird, it just barely managed to ebb into the periphery of his consciousness.

  At the sound of it, palpitations roiled the length of Reed’s core, his heart rate climbing again. Steady and persistent, it grew closer with each step, drawing him forward.

  “Mechanical,” he managed to mutter, his right hand tightening around the grip of his gun.

  Again, Ludgate managed nothing more than a grunt.

  Focus locked on the scent before her, Billie pushed ahead, her pace never wavering, oblivious to the sound. Continuing to slide her lithe body along the narrow path, she pushed on for another twenty yards before turning an abrupt right.

  Leaving the path, there were only a few bits of matted grass to lead the way, Billie creasing her way through a grove of trees.

  And up to the base of a small structure.

  Following close behind her, Reed didn’t see it until his partner stopped just feet away from it. Under the veil of darkness and the density of the forest, the place was almost invisible, the metallic whine from within seeming completely out of place in the trees.

  Little more than a woodshed, it looked like a cross between an outhouse and a chicken coop, just ten feet in length and half that in width. Green shingles covered the top, the outside painted dark brown.

  If Mabry was looking for a place to hide from the world, he had certainly achieved it.

  Her trail impeded by the structure, Billie paced in front of the single door. Made from the same wood as the rest of the building, the sole things to denote its presence were the metal hinges on one side and the clasp lock on the other.

  Circling out a few feet to the side, Reed raised his weapon before him. Peeking around the side, he saw an aging stack of firewood piled knee-high, brush and overgrowth pushing up tight from every angle.

  Glancing over, he could see Ludgate doing the same on the opposite corner.

  “Clear,” Reed said.


  “Clear here,” the captain replied. “What the hell is this thing?”

  It was the same question Reed was asking himself, the building having no earthly reason for being there. Like something built as a holding spot for tools or farm equipment years ago, it seemed to have been forgotten, left behind by time.

  Except for the fact that there was some machine inside, steadily pushing forth the groan of an engine.

  “And what is that sound?” Ludgate asked.

  “I don’t know,” Reed said, his mind fighting through every possible scenario. “Sounds like a generator.”

  Switching her gaze from him to the door, Ludgate said, “Your call, Detective. Go in or call for backup?”

  Already, their jaunt through the woods had taken much longer than expected. Just as his visit to Klauss had. And his various stops at the precinct. And even the swing by Bingham’s Drugs.

  More time than Della Snow might have already spent scouring the area, desperately seeking to find her.

  Now that he knew where she was, there was no way Reed could wait another moment, his nerves already stretched beyond capacity.

  “Cover me,” Reed said, lowering his weapon to his side. Circling back to face the door square, Reed balanced his weight evenly. He waited until Billie’s pacing carried her to the outer edge of the building before saying, “Down.”

  The instant her backside touched the ground, Reed exploded forward. He let the conglomerated feelings of angst, anxiety, adrenaline, hostility, all drive him forward, a guttural yell emanating from deep in his diaphragm as he went at the door.

  Bypassing using his foot - not knowing if it would even work for a door of that design - he twisted his body sideways, curling his arm up tight to his ribcage. Three steps were all it took to bring him to full speed, every emotion he had bubbling to the surface as he slammed into the door.

  The combined effect was more than the aging wood could accommodate, crumpling beneath his momentum. Sagging inward, the hinges and clasp both gave way at the same time, shards of wood and sawdust erupting into the air.

  Unable to control his momentum, Reed staggered forward, the door barely enough to break his acceleration. Stumbling three steps across the narrow space, he slammed into the far wall, the entire structure shaking beneath his weight.