Max nodded. “Sure thing.”
On the drive to Emerald Lake, Smoke bopped the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “If we don’t hear from Max by tomorrow, I think we need a deputy stationed there, at least part of the time. You’ve sent a dose of your heebie-jeebies my way.”
“Your gut and mine are both telling us she’s our bad guy and we can’t find her soon enough.”
Fifteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of a four-plex apartment building in the small community of Emerald Lake. It was in a residential area overlooking a large brick church. “Seems that Dolly Corbin gets to enjoy some peace and quiet when she’s home,” Smoke said.
“And I hope she’s at home enjoying that now. Until we disturb it.”
“There are only two cars in the lot. Hopefully one belongs to her.”
I ran both license plates, and neither vehicle did. “Nope.”
“Doesn’t mean she’s not in, so let’s go check,” Smoke said.
On the way into the building we met a giant of a man on his way out. He half-nodded at us and walked away. I glanced over my shoulder and was surprised at the distance his long legs carried him in short order, even with his lumbering strides. It looked like he was headed toward the business district.
“Goliath,” I said under my breath.
“With a little Frankenstein thrown in the mix,” Smoke murmured back.
Smoke rapped on apartment 4, but no one answered. After another attempt, we looked at each other and shook our heads.
“Let’s try the other apartments. Maybe someone can enlighten us,” Smoke said.
I mouthed, “We should have stopped Goliath.”
Smoke raised his eyebrows and nodded. The only person who answered her door was a rather frail older woman. After introductions, we inquired about Dolly Corbin, but she didn’t know her or how long she’d lived there.
“I don’t get out much or see my neighbors’ comings and goings. My daughter comes over with groceries and we make supper a few times a week. It’s the only time I like cooking anymore. When my daughter is here. As far as the lady you’re wondering about, I’ve only seen her a couple of times. And I don’t recall when the last time was. Quite a while ago, now. But I did see a large man coming out of that apartment one day last week when I was getting my mail,” she said.
“Do you know who he is?” Smoke said.
She shook her head. “I said ‘hello’ to him, and he nodded. Didn’t say ‘hello’ back. Then I said, ‘did you just move in?’ He had a blank look on his face, like he didn’t understand me, and didn’t answer. Haven’t seen him since.” She’d missed a second sighting of him by minutes.
“How would you describe him, other than he was large?” Smoke said.
“Well, he was wearing a loose tee-shirt. Brown eyes and dark hair and had a wide nose.” She demonstrated the width by spreading her thumb and forefinger out across her own thin nose. “He looked like he lifted weights, you know, a body builder with big muscles.”
“Any guess on his age?” I said.
“Well, he could be twenty-five, I suppose.” Goliath.
Smoke handed over his business card. “We appreciate your help, ma’am. If you see either the big man, or the woman who lives in the apartment, would you kindly give me a call?”
She took the card and read it. “Well, I’ve never had to call a sheriff’s detective before. I surely will if I see them.”
After I climbed in the car, I said, “It’s amazing how virtually anonymous people can keep themselves from others living in the same small complex.”
“Seems to happen a lot. If our suspicions are correct that Barnes, aka Corbin, is the offender and renting both apartments, then we know she prefers to be as low profile as possible.”
“Yes.” I waved my hand at the parking lot. “The same two vehicles are still here, so that means Goliath didn’t take one of them. Neither of the owners’ descriptions fits his anyway.”
Smoke started the car. “I need to talk to the chief, get the ball rolling to set up surveillance.”
“I’ll drive so you can make the call.”
“Deal.”
We got out, exchanged places, and I shifted into drive. Smoke brought Randolph into the latest loop. “We need to end this dark angel’s reign of terror,” Smoke said. They figured out the logistics of when to post deputies to keep watch on the two buildings, then disconnected.
“Chief said we’re putting in too many hours, and we need to hang it up for the night,” Smoke said.
“Then we will do just that.”
Or so we thought.
Smoke dropped me off at my squad car and I was halfway home when he phoned. “You’re wondering what to pick up for dinner?” I said. It was almost five o’clock, and I was ready to eat.
“Wishful thinking. I got a call from Sherburne County Communications. Jaxson’s number pinged near the National Wildlife Refuge there.”
“No way. Camping that close to home?”
“Makes you wonder. They got two deputies out looking for him, but there’s over thirty thousand acres in the refuge. Even if they can get within a couple miles radius, it’d be easy for him to hide,” Smoke said.
“For sure. There’s no overnight camping at the refuge, correct?”
“Correct. But you think that would deter someone fleeing from justice?”
“Ah, no. Especially not someone with Jaxson’s camping experience. What about Sheriff Kenner, does he know?”
“No. I called his home, talked to April, she said Mike is sound asleep. His doctor prescribed a medication that’s working. Thank God. I filled her in and told her I’d keep them informed. She’s on the edge of her seat.”
“Poor thing.”
“Also talked to the chief and got his blessings for the road trip. I’ll pick up one of our less-than-pristine undercover vehicles and head up to the refuge.” Smoke said.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Nah, you go home.”
I pressed down on the accelerator. “Smoke, I need to. I’ll change, get out of uniform. And borrow Gramps’ old Buick. It won’t be on the county’s dime. I’ll check in when I get there.”
“Corky—”
“See you there.”
The next twelve minutes passed in a blur. I changed, rounded up Queenie and Rex for a visit with Gramps, asked to use his car, and jumped into the old Buick for a longer trip than it’d had for who knows how long. As I drove away, I whispered something he couldn’t hear, “Thanks, Gramps, for not questioning me when I make requests and don’t give you reasons why.”
Those instances had been going on for years—me popping in at odd moments with somewhat unusual pleas. And whenever possible, I enlightened him after the fact of what I’d been up to. Gramps had told me many times he was glad to help the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Office with investigations. I smiled at the thought he lived random moments vicariously through me.
When my thoughts returned to Jaxson, I sobered up right quick. The forty-minute drive seemed to take forever before I turned off Sherburne County Road 5 onto Prairie’s Edge Wildlife Drive, the entrance to the Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge. I pulled over and sent Smoke a text, asking where he was. He responded with, By the Oak Savanna Trail pull-off, a quarter mile down Prairie’s Edge. Close.
He sat in an old Ford Fiesta, one that qualified as a beater. I parked and hopped in with him. “Do you know where the deputies are?” I said.
“One is making his way on the Mahnomen Trail, and the other is on the Blue Hill Trail. On ATVs. Those trails aren’t meant for vehicles, even ATVs, but they’re pushing the limits to cover more territory. And they can check areas off the trails, if need be. They’ve been searching for close to two hours with no luck. I tried calling Jaxson’s number, but he didn’t pick up, surprise, surprise.”
“What’s our plan?” I said.
“If we knew for certain Jaxson was in here, I’d consider assembling a posse to search for
him. On the other hand, I’m leery if he spots us, it might force his hand.”
“Special Agent Erley said Jaxson recognizes getting caught is one of the possibilities.”
“I know, but he’s young and impulsive and that makes for a potentially volatile situation,” Smoke said.
“So the four of us keep looking?”
“For now. If Jaxson’s here, his car should be, too. Easy enough to hide it in the thick forests, but easier to spot than a person.” Smoke looked at his watch. “We’ve got about two and a half hours before it’s too dark to see well.”
“The park closes at sunset.”
“Damn. I have a sinking feeling the chances of finding him are slim to none, but we have no choice. We have to look. We’ll head down the drive at a snail’s pace. I’ll keep a lookout in the immediate area, and you can do some distance scoping.” He picked up the pair of binoculars from the seat and handed them over.
“Will do.” I adjusted them to line up with my field of vision.
The road was over seven miles long and at mile two, Smoke hit the brakes. I pulled off the binoculars and spotted the reason why. The gravel on the side of the road had been disturbed. “I’d say a vehicle drove off the road and into that field,” he said. We got out for a closer look.
I pointed at the marks. “And the driver tried to cover his tracks by kicking the tire tracks away with his shoes.”
“Looks like it.”
I lifted the binoculars to my face and searched farther into the field for signs that a vehicle had driven through. “I think the driver continued to try to cover his tracks by brushing them away for a short distance.” I continued to search, followed the lines. About a football field away I spotted a vehicle, mostly hidden among the trees. “I might be looking at Jaxson’s new wheels.”
Smoke reached for the binoculars, adjusted them, and found the target. “Yep. Let’s go find out.”
28
Mama and Rufus
“Rufus, you need to relax. You’re too restless.”
“I can’t help it, Mama. Cops came to the apartment building today.”
“What do you mean, Son?”
“It was a lady cop who had a uniform on, and a man who had a suit on, like the detectives wear on TV,” Rufus said.
Mama tried to keep her voice calm so Rufus didn’t get more agitated. “Where were you when they came to the apartment? You didn’t answer the door, did you?”
“No. I saw them outside. I was leaving and they were going in.”
“Did you talk to them?”
“No. I didn’t say a word, like you told me,” Rufus said.
A wave of relief washed over her. “That’s my boy.”
What were two cops doing at their apartment building? They couldn’t have been there for her because they didn’t know who she was.
29
The ride was a bit choppy to the grove of trees, but it wasn’t far. Smoke stopped fifty feet short of where the vehicle sat. “Game plan. I’ll creep over there and you keep watch for any movement. He might take off if he spots me,” he said.
We got out and eased the doors semi-closed without slamming them. Smoke bent over at the waist and took long strides along the outside edge of the forest. I sank down on one knee and watched, ready to jump up and run if it came to that. I lost view of Smoke when he stepped into the treed area. About a minute later, he stuck his head out and waved so I jogged over.
He tapped me on the shoulder and pointed south and kept his voice low. “We won’t go too far, maybe a diameter of about sixty feet, see if we can flush him out.” He headed the opposite direction. After we’d covered the area with no sign of Jaxson, we met back at his car.
Smoke pointed at the unlocked driver’s side door. “Where the hell is Jaxson? Keys are in the ignition. Phone’s in plain view on the seat. I’ll see if it’s the same prepaid burner.” He dialed the number and it buzzed until it stopped on its own.
“Where do you suppose he put the rest of his stuff?” I said.
“Let’s check the trunk.” Smoke pulled a protective glove out of his back pocket, slipped it on his right hand, reached in, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and opened the trunk. Empty. “Figures,” he said.
“Two scenarios flashed through my mind. Jaxson left the phone in the car so we’d get pings in this massive refuge and wouldn’t be able to exactly pinpoint where it was. And he left the car here because he suspected we knew he’d bought it, and figured it was time to ditch it. Then he took off for places unknown.”
“On foot?”
“Unless he got someone to pick him up,” I said.
“In that case we should find that person’s phone number in his burner. And your second scenario?” Smoke said.
“He’s in the refuge, camping, plans to return for the car, doesn’t worry about it being discovered. Either he forgot the phone or didn’t plan to use it.”
“I’ll see what’s in his call history.” Smoke put a glove on his other hand and started his search. It took a while then he said, “Great, I left my memo pad in the car.”
“Give me the numbers. I’ll type them in my phone.”
“There’s only one outgoing call and a ton of incomings. I’d say ninety from his parents.”
“Tell me the outgoing one.”
He read it off. “It’s gotta be the guy he bought the car from.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll phone the Sherburne deputies, let them know our location.” After he finished the conversation, he called out, “Where are you Jaxson? Turn yourself in so we can help you.”
“If only he could hear you,” I said.
“Randolph needs to weigh in on this.” Smoke called him and gave him a play-by-play. By the time he’d disconnected, I had the gist of it. “Chief will send the K-9 up here. As it turns out, they’re in Little Mountain, so they’ll be here in about twenty minutes. Hopefully find Jaxson before it gets too dark. Randolph doesn’t want the two of us to pull an all-nighter here,” he said.
“Why not? We’re meeting with the Sherburne detective in the morning anyway.”
“Yeah, who needs sleep?”
Deputy Hizy joined us on foot. Deputy Walters was there minutes later. Smoke had asked them not to ride their ATVs in too close in case Jaxson was in the vicinity. We talked quietly for a bit then Smoke said, “How do you want to handle this? One of you should go with our K-9, help with Jaxson’s arrest if they find him. But you’re both welcome to do that, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’ll phone our supervisor, he can make the call,” Hizy said. He walked away and when he returned told us, “We’ll both stay, in case you need the backup.”
“Good deal,” Smoke said.
“You guys have about the most famous case in the state going on in Winnebago. Maybe in the whole nation,” Walters said.
“You mean the one besides the sheriff’s son absconding?” Smoke said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.
“Ha! Lots of buzz about those bodies found in that bog. What a deal,” Hizy said.
“No question about that. We’re in the thick of a strange investigation with lots of moving parts. The victims are at the M.E.’s office for autopsy, and we hope to get all of them identified. Sooner or later.” Smoke couldn’t share the details, but they’d find out soon enough the first body recovered was from their county. The one whose image was burned into my brain for the long haul.
Smoke’s phone rang and when he glanced at its face, told the deputies, “Excuse us.” He looked at me and moved his head slightly, indicating I was the one included in ‘us’. He uttered, “The M.E.,” as he pushed the talk button. “Detective Dawes.” He listened then blew out a puff of air. “Wow. Good news and no news, which in this case is not good. . . . I’m in the middle of something right now, but I’ll see if I can reach the detective in Meeker. . . . By Monday? . . . That’d be a relief. I hear the whole state, make that the nation, is waiting for answers. . . . Appreciate it.”
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br /> He disconnected and shook his head. “They identified the fourth victim, and you heard it was Meeker’s? Gloria Freiburg.”
“I prayed it’d be one of ours. And the third?”
“Couldn’t ID him from the DNA samples, meaning it’s not Oscar Wright or Silas Petty.”
“Man. You’re not kidding about wanting answers. What was that about Monday?”
“They’ll complete the last autopsies tomorrow and the lab should finish up comparing the DNA samples by Monday.”
“They’ve got to be matches with the family members of Agneta, and Silas, and Oscar, right? The seventh body, the third recovered from the bog, could he be the one missing from Blue Earth County?” I said.
“Anything’s possible. But given the fact he’s been gone six years, same as Gloria Freiburg, I’d say it’s not probable. And he disappeared in April, not May,”
“Not probable but not impossible.”
“I’ll give the Meeker detective a ring. It’s early enough in the evening, he can decide if he wants to make notification tonight or wait till morning,” Smoke said.
“I’ll get back to our host deputies.”
Deputy Hanson arrived with his canine companion, Booster, a Belgian Malinois. Booster wore his tactical vest and tugged on his leash. Hanson kept a firm grip on it. After a brief, “Thanks for the quick response,” from Smoke we led him to the car Jaxson had driven. Smoke opened the driver’s door and backed away, giving the team room to work. Hanson commanded Booster to pick up the scent. Booster sniffed the seat and floor, whined, and pulled on his leash.
When Hanson said, “Search,” Booster didn’t hesitate. With his nose close to the ground he went from the car, past us, around a tree, then out of the treed area to Prairie’s Edge Wildlife Drive and headed west.
Smoke and I exchanged looks. “Whaddaya wanna bet Jaxson’s no longer in this wildlife refuge?” he said.
We gave them a head start before the Sherburne deputies, Smoke, and I followed in our vehicles at the team’s pace—about five miles an hour—and left a respectable distance between us. Toward the end of the drive, I turned to Smoke. “It looks like your hunch was right.”
Remains In Coyote Bog Page 17
