Don't Tell A Soul (Detectives Kane and Alton)

The contemptuous way he looked at her, the curled lip, and self-assured posture made her skin crawl. Something was mentally wrong with him, as if he had two people inside him. This persona was not the nice man who encouraged her to move in and get a feel for the area but the other brutal, savage personality who she could not reason with. Drink made him worse and the bottle and glass on the kitchen table set off alarm bells. “I’m leaving in a couple of days. How do you expect me to move out of here without a vehicle?”

“Maybe I want you to stay?” Cowboy Boots moved a few steps closer; his dark eyes raked over her, dead eyes without a shred of compassion. “The house is nice and clean and I like a home-cooked meal.”

Frightened but determined to stand her ground, she folded her arms over her pounding chest to hide shaking hands. “I said I would stay for one month to get a feel for the area. I can’t stay forever.”

“You will, if I say so.” He placed one muscular arm either side of her, resting his large hands on the counter. “Problem is, I need money to pay for the repairs to your car. If you want it back, it’s gonna cost you five hundred dollars cash. If you give me your card I’ll go into town and withdraw it for you.”

His bourbon-smelling breath burned her nostrils, and, disgusted, she turned her face away. “Why don’t you drive me into town when the repairs are finished and I’ll pay the garage?”

Agony blinded her for a moment. She had not seen his fist coming. Eyes watering, she stared at him in shock. The next blow sent a metallic taste over her tongue. She held up both hands to shield her face. “Stop it. Why are you doing this to me?”

“I said, give me your card and I’ll get the money from town.” He grasped her neck in his grubby hand and squeezed. “Or are you deaf?”

Trembling with fear, she nodded in agreement. What other choice did she have? She was miles from town without a car, and at his mercy. Perhaps when he left she could use the phone and call for help. “I’ll get it for you.”

He followed her to her room and waited at the door as she sat trembling on the bed. Her head throbbed and she could not think straight. She took her purse from the bedside table, took out a card, and gave it to him. She was unable to remember the PINs to her cards; she had them listed in her address book.

“The PIN?” He glared at her and stepped closer. “Give me the number.” He took a notepad out of his pocket.

When she fumbled the address book, he scooped it up and laughed. “You keep the number in here?” His cowboy hat dipped as he looked through the pages. “How many cards do you have?” He grabbed at her purse and emptied the contents on the bed. “Three?”

Ears ringing, she looked up at him. She could not believe he had hit her. No one had ever struck her before. The room swam in and out of focus and she gripped the side of the bed, willing herself not to vomit.

When he struck her again, she clutched her throbbing head. “Yes, I have three. Take them.”

“I will.” He headed for the kitchen.

Moments later, she heard his boots

on the floor outside her bedroom. She glanced up through swollen lids to see him holding the telephone.

“You can try to run but you won’t get far in this weather.” He waved the phone at her. “This is coming with me. Have dinner ready when I return or I’ll beat you senseless then lock you in the root cellar. It’s cold down there and the rats will eat you alive. Your choice.”

She heard him whistling and his footsteps echoing down the passageway followed by the roar of an engine as he started his vehicle. Hopelessness engulfed her. She had to survive and would do whatever he wanted but he had to sleep sometime. Maybe she could steal his car and make her escape. Who was she kidding? He was as cunning as a fox. I’m trapped and he’ll never let me go. She lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets over her. Memories of her family drifted into her head and a comforting darkness surrounded her.

Ten

Kane glared at Daniels and forced his mind to concentrate on the job at hand. “The other missing person, John Helms. Have you run a check on his credit or debit card transactions and his cellphone?”

“Not yet, the man wasn’t reported missing until Friday. I guess we can wait until Monday and see if he shows up?”

“No need to wait.” Kane rubbed his chin. “Sheriff Alton informed me Helms went missing some time ago and his cellphone is not responding. Check to see why and if he failed to make payments. Start organizing the necessary papers to obtain a warrant. I want a list of the calls he made in the last two weeks, then do the same to get his bank transactions.”

“No worries, boss.”

Kane returned to Rowley’s desk and sat down beside him. Daniels’ overfamiliar arrogance with Sarah Woodward disturbed him but he would soon bring him into line. He took a deep breath and reached for his coffee then blew across the steaming liquid, glad his head had stopped pounding. “When did you last hit the practice range?” He swallowed a mouthful of the rich brew and sighed.

“Sheriff Alton takes us down once a month, so two weeks ago. She is one tough lady and runs this place like boot camp.” Rowley tapped away at his computer keyboard then lifted his brown gaze to him. “I’ve entered notes of Miss Woodward’s interview into her file. If you don’t need me for a while, I usually take the first lunch break.”

“I’ll come with you. Walters is still making a list of pickups in the area so I might as well take a break now too. We can take my car, but before we eat I’d like to speak to the real estate agent before he leaves for the day.” Kane drained the cup and stood. “So far, he is the last person to have contact with a missing person. Do you have a photograph of Mrs. Woodward on your cellphone?”

“Yeah, I do. We have been searching for her. I printed up some flyers and showed them to the local ranchers without much luck.” Rowley signed out of his computer and jumped enthusiastically to his feet. “What’s your angle?”

“Right now, we’re assuming Mrs. Woodward spoke to the local real estate broker about properties. We’ll need to interview everyone Woodward came into contact with before her disappearance.” Kane grabbed his windbreaker from a hook by the door then led the way outside to his vehicle. “I’m an observer of people’s reactions, and showing the real estate guy a photograph of our missing person might trigger a repressed memory.”

“And you’ll pick up if he’s hiding something.” Rowley shrugged into his coat and followed. “Would you consider him a suspect, as he appears to be the last person to see Mrs. Woodward?”

“Maybe, but for now all we have is a missing person not a victim of foul play.” Kane shivered and pressed the button on his key fob to unlock the car. “Does it ever stop snowing here?”