But the trees were growing further apart now. The forest was thinning, and a natural clearing was coming up in front.
“Hey,” Katy said from behind me, pulling on my vest.
I spun around to see her pointing at a tree branch.
“Someone snagged their shirt,” she said.
I peered at the torn piece of black cloth waving in the soft breeze. A broken silver chain hung from it, hooked onto the pointy end of a branch. That was what had snagged the shirt or jacket.
“Remember Brianna’s room?” she said.
“All black outfits,” I said, my face grim. “Goth chains and all.”
We stared silently at the ripped chain hanging from the naked twig.
“So she came this way,” said Katy.
“It had to be recent, or this would have fallen off by now.” I scrutinized the piece of cloth. “She was running.”
“How do you know that?”
“If you snagged your jacket when you were casually walking along, wouldn’t you stop to pluck it out of the branch? Especially if it still had the chain attached to it. She didn’t have time.”
The sound of the car engine revving came from beyond the trees again.
Katy and I swiveled around, our guns at the ready.
“We’re getting close,” I whispered.
“To what?” said Katy, frowning. “Isabella? Sally? Ruby? Tom? Brianna? The killer?”
“I don’t know yet, but I don’t like us being exposed like this.”
We got off the trail and slunk behind the largest oak tree.
Just when we wanted to stay covert, the trees got thinner and grew further apart. Cursing our luck, I slipped to the next tree, with Katy right behind me.
We moved slowly, pausing at every tree to listen for any telltale sounds. It took us ten minutes to get to the perimeter of the clearing.
We were at the frontier of the school grounds now.
“My goodness,” I said out loud, before I could stop myself.
Katy almost bumped into me. “What the…?”
We stared at the eerie scene.
A cluster of derelict cabins stood in a semi-circle near the edge of the woods.
For a moment, I felt like we had got into a time machine that had taken us a hundred years back.
“The cabins,” I whispered.
It was an ancient pioneer outpost, one that had been abandoned a long time ago.
The paint on the cabins’ decaying frames had peeled, and the wood had turned an ashen gray. Their metal roofs were corroded and looked like they’d been sprayed in splotches of rusty red.
These must be the original farmstead buildings, constructed during an era when the Red Lake Academy wasn’t even an idea.
“It’s a ghost town,” whispered Katy.
Sam had told us everyone had forgotten about this place, but I wondered how true that was.
Whoever came through the woods along that path should have ended up here. Plus, that vehicle engine told me this place wasn’t a secret.
But there didn’t seem to be anyone around.
I’d have expected the black steel fence of the school to circle the grounds, but there was no barrier between the back of the woods and the homestead ruins.
I wondered if Martha May or her predecessor had built that fence only along the front part of the grounds, leaving the wilderness to act as a natural wall in the back.
That would mean the school’s security system was useless, as anyone could leave the school through the backwoods. Did they really think the forest would deter runaways and intruders?
That car engine bothered me.
How did it get here? More importantly, who was in that vehicle?
“Are we going in?” whispered Katy.
“We’ll start with one cabin at a time. Keep your weapon at the ready and stay close.”
We stepped toward the nearest shed, keeping to the shadows.
My gut was sending strong warning signals.
We couldn’t let our guard down.
Not here.
Not now.
Chapter Fifty-five
The closest cabin was only ten feet away.
This gave us ample time to scamper back into the woods if anyone came.
After another glance around to make sure we were in the clear, we stepped out from behind the tree.
Katy and I tiptoed toward the open door. It was hanging on its side, the hinges broken and pieces of wood missing from the frame.
I entered the small structure.
“Wow,” whispered Katy, peering over my shoulder.
Inside the musty shed was an old-fashioned wood stove, rusty iron pots on a wooden shelf, and an ax leaning against a pile of chopped wood, now almost sawdust. A broken plate lay on the floor, the pieces covered in decade-old dust and cobwebs.
“It’s a kitchen,” said Katy, wrinkling her nose. “What’s that nasty smell?”
“Something crawled in here and died,” I said, scanning the room, looking for remains of a squirrel or a skunk.
Stepping away from the cabin, we walked over to the next structure.
It was another one-room shed, this time with two cot frames, small enough for children. Next to a bed was a tin bowl, and crumpled to the side were tattered sheets that must have been white at one point but were a muddy brown color now.
A thick veneer of dust covered almost everything. It was a wonder any of this had survived this long.
In my mind’s eye, I could see a pioneer family gathering up their essentials and hastily departing this village, leaving these things behind.
Who were they, and why did they leave? Could have been a plague, a famine, an ambush, or a myriad of possibilities we’d never know now.
“I keep expecting to see a skeleton or two,” whispered Katy, as we peeked into the third cabin, another lonely, abandoned bedroom.
Behind the three cabins was a bigger building constructed in the shape of a barn.
Inside were shrunk straw bales and something brown scattered on the ground. It was slightly dark inside but empty.
We didn’t dare walk in, as we had no idea what lay buried under that composted hay. Dead skunks? Live rodents?
We stepped out and surveyed the area, our guns at the ready and our backs to each other.
We were in the center of this deserted compound. A rough dirt path wound its way onto another cluster of larger and more sturdy buildings about six hundred yards ahead.
“There’s a whole village up there,” whispered Katy.
“That car must have gone that way,” I whispered back.
I glanced at the tall pine trees that grew around the compound, shielding it from anyone but a drone or a helicopter from above.
A shiver ran down my back and I felt goosebumps on my arm. My imagination was threatening to run away again, conjuring up all sorts of dangers.
We were exposed among these decrepit sheds. There were too many places here for someone to lurk and ambush us.
“Let’s check the last cabin before we go further. Just to make sure no one’s hiding in there,” I said.
We walked up to the next derelict structure, weapons aimed, stepping quietly.
Something on the floor of the shed caught my eye. I bent down to pick it up, expecting it to fall apart in my hands.
It was a tattered black-and-white photo, its corners deteriorated, and the entire right side torn.
I stared at the dour faces of the people in old-fashioned clothing staring out of the photo. None of them were smiling.
Someone had scribbled names across their faces. I squinted in the dim light to see if I could read the faded ink.
I read the name Briggs scrawled across one man’s face.
Briggs?
Isn’t that the town mayor’s last name?
“Look at this, will you?” I said, turning around to Katy.
But she wasn’t standing at the cabin’s threshold.
My heart skipped a beat.
> Katy?
I let the photo fall from my hand and stepped out of the shed, gripping my gun.
“Katy?” I called out in a quiet voice.
Where did she go?
She had been behind me only seconds ago.
Standing in place, I whirled around, scanning the commune, then the woods. My heart raced like mad and the sweat on my palms was making the gun slippery.
What happened?
Did she step out to see something? Did she stay behind near the kitchen shed and I missed her?
I walked around the compound, my breath getting shallower with every step I took.
“Katy?” I called out in a low voice. But the only sound I could hear was the blood pounding in my ear.
I retraced my steps back to the last shed we’d checked together and peeked inside.
It was empty.
I glanced around, feeling sick to my stomach.
Did someone take her? Did she fall through a hole and I hadn’t noticed?
I pulled my phone out with shaking hands.
Please work, I said silently. But the reception bars were still red.
I whirled around, trying to suppress the screaming panic welling inside of me.
Chapter Fifty-six
This was my fault.
If I hadn’t got distracted by that stupid photo, Katy would still be with me.
My chest heaved, and trickles of sweat rolled down the sides of my face. But panic only narrowed my vision, and right now, I needed all my senses on high alert.
Stop it. Get a hold of yourself.
I stood in one spot, desperately trying to recall the last time Katy was with me.
Think, girl, think.
We had peeked inside a small bedroom with an antique rocking chair in the corner. I remembered it because Katy said that could be restored into something nice.
Sucking another breath of air to settle myself, I retraced my steps. I circled the commune, walking from cabin to cabin, stopping at every structure, holding my gun out, ready to shout freeze at a moment’s notice.
But Katy had simply vanished into thin air.
Just like Brianna.
Standing next to these ancient sheds, I felt like I was the only living being for miles.
Horrifying thoughts pummeled my brain. It was hard not to conjure up dark specters haunting this dilapidated little village.
But I knew whatever had happened to Katy had a human element to it. Someone pulled her away by force, chloroformed her, or manipulated her into leaving my side.
But when? Why didn’t she cry out? Shout? Scream?
Katy had strong fighting Irish genes. She’d never let herself be kidnapped quietly, even if she’d been under threat.
A new thought dawned on me.
The only reason Katy would walk away would be if she saw someone in trouble.
Did Katy spot Brianna and run off to help her? Why didn’t she call me? Did someone hold a gun to Brianna’s head, forcing Katy to stay silent?
I was about to scream out her name, when I heard a stifled yell from the direction of the barn.
I spun around, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
Katy?
I dashed in between the cabins.
When I got to the barn, no one was inside.
My eyes swept the space, wondering if I’d made a mistake. I remembered it had looked undisturbed when we’d peeked in only moments ago. But now, I could see a heap of brown straw bits near the door, like someone had walked through it, moving it to the side.
Sweat streamed down my back. This place was playing tricks on my mind.
Maybe the yell came from somewhere else. Maybe it came from the village down the road.
I heard a rustle and swiveled around, my Glock aimed forward.
But it was only a brown mouse scurrying down the broken door. As I watched, it popped into a hole in the wall and vanished.
That was when I heard the second shout. My heart jumped to my mouth.
This time I hadn’t imagined it.
Resisting the urge to leap out, screaming at the top of my lungs, I tiptoed toward the door and peeked out.
There was nobody.
I slipped outside and flattened myself against the wall, both hands gripping my gun.
I stood still, not breathing, straining my ears to locate the sound. But in that moment, I felt like the entire universe could hear my heart hammering madly in my chest.
Where did that yell come from? Who was it?
I crept up to the edge of the wall and peeked out.
I was facing the north end of the commune.
Behind me were the small cabins. In front was the gravelly path that went from this commune to the larger compound of wooden houses nestled against the forest in the far end.
Something told me that was where I needed to go.
But if I walked on that path, I’d be out in the open.
An easy target.
I glanced around quickly, looking for an alternative route. The only other option was the winding path through the woods that circled the clearing. That would take twice as long, but it would have to do.
I slipped back into the barn and pulled out my phone. I wanted so desperately to call Katy, but the connection was still down.
Besides, if someone had her, I didn’t want to alert them to my whereabouts. I couldn’t help her if I was caught too.
Instead, I double clicked on the GPS. It was still dead, but the compass was working.
Holding the phone in one sweaty hand and my weapon in the other, I slithered into the woods.
My feet felt cold and my hands were numb. That had nothing to do with the chill settling in the forest as the sun dipped in the sky. It had everything to do with the indescribable fear gnawing inside of me.
Oh, my god, Katy, please be okay.
I treaded my way quietly in between the trees, keeping one eye on the compass and another on the path. I couldn’t afford to lose my footing or carelessly step on a dry twig and reveal my presence.
It took me ten minutes to get close to the second compound. When I got to it, I hunkered behind the largest tree trunk and took stock, my heart racing, my eyes darting as I searched for clues.
These houses were larger and sturdier than the cabins I’d left behind. The closest building was fifty yards in the middle of the clearing. It was a manor compared to what I’d seen before.
It had probably been grand in its time, but it was in a sorry state now, barely holding up. Surrounding it were three smaller houses.
That was when I realized what I was looking at. The cabins in the back most probably housed the servants or slaves of long ago. This compound was where the estate owners, the homesteaders, had lived.
But, just like the servants’ quarters, this place was eerily quiet.
Desolate.
I wondered if I’d made a big mistake.
Maybe instead of being brought here, Katy had been dragged into the woods. Here I was, heading even further away from her, on a wild goose chase.
That was when I spotted the cross. A tall white cross next to the manor.
A grave. Why would anyone bury someone so close to their home?
Something red glimmered under the pale afternoon light. I peered through the tree branches to see better. It was a bunch of red chrysanthemums lying at the foot of the cross.
I’d seen those flowers before.
The chrysanthemum-filled vases on the teachers’ tables in the dining hall flashed to my mind.
My heart pounded.
Someone had been here recently.
Someone from the school.
Chapter Fifty-seven
I peered through the trees, wishing I had a pair of binoculars.
At first glance, this settlement looked like a ramshackle ghost town.
The dirt trail had been replaced by a cobblestoned path that ran in between the houses.
Unlike the crumbling cabins out back, these buildings had been tak
en care of. They hadn’t been fully restored, but they were in much better condition.
None of the frames were broken or were falling off. None of the walls had gaping holes. All the doors and windows were closed, and the windowpanes weren’t caked in dust like those in the sheds.
That was when I noticed. The doorknob of the main door to the manor looked shiny, like someone had been using it recently.
Do people live here?
Panic bubbled in my lungs again.
But I couldn’t stand here, frozen in fear.
I had to do something.
I was about to step out, when I caught a glint from the side of one of the smaller houses.
I waited.
There.
Again.
Was it a mirror? A piece of glass?
Whatever it was, it belonged in this century. As I stared in its direction, something nagged at me. I vaguely remembered Katy talking about something glinting on the road only a day or two ago.
It took me a few seconds to realize I was looking at the late sunlight bouncing off the windshield of a vehicle.
I leaned in and spotted the dark outline of a truck behind the compound. It had blended so well into the background, I hadn’t even noticed it.
The tinted black pickup truck!
That was the vehicle we heard in the woods. It was the same truck that rammed Jayden’s car.
I found it.
My mind whirred.
Who drove that truck? Was the killer prowling around here? Did they have Katy? Were they waiting for me?
I was itching to run out and investigate, but I had to be smart.
I slipped my phone into my vest pocket and racked the slide of my Glock. I wanted to be sure I had a round in the chamber if I needed to shoot. And shoot fast.
My panic had subsided, and my heart rate was normalizing. I was on full alert, and this time, I was prepared.
Whoever took Katy was going to pay.
I dropped to my hunches and squatted close to the ground. I crept out of the woods, keeping my profile low, and scampered to the nearest house.
I shuffled over to the end of the wall, keeping my head below the windows, and peeked out of the corner.
The manor was within my line of sight now.
In its day, this house would have been akin to a colonial mansion. I could imagine women in long gowns and men in hats and buckskin pants walking about this place.
Merciless Crimes: A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series (Merciless Murder Mystery Thriller) Page 23
