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

“Yeah. It’s about half an hour past Sheriff Alton’s ranch.” Rowley climbed into the car and gave him a toothy grin. “Man, you are a chick magnet.”

“Just drive.” Kane gave him the Stare of Death. “Stop at the station. We’ll take my SUV and I’ll drive. You can keep a watch out for Miller’s vehicle, in case we miss her.”

“Sure. You’d better grab the two-way.” Rowley’s grin had not faded. “I’m not sure what the reception is like out there.” He chuckled. “Man, next time you want a boys’ night out, take me with you. I haven’t got lucky in months.”

Annoyed, Kane turned around in his seat and glared at him. “I’m not interested. Get your mind back on the job and don’t worry about the two-way. I have a satellite phone in my car.”

Thirty-Two

After picking up his vehicle, Kane drove through the gates of Jenna’s ranch and headed the SUV deep into white oblivion. During the half-hour drive, they passed two ranch houses with assorted outbuildings, and in the distance, a line of blackened trees stood out like sentries along the riverbank against the winter landscape. The isolated narrow road leading to Sarah’s current position had a bank of dirty gray slush, and the blacktop showed signs of frequent use since the last snowfall. He flicked a glance at Rowley. “You sure no one lives out here? It looks like this road has carried some traffic over the last couple of days.”

“This road gives access to the back acres of other ranches but it ends at the river about half a mile past the Old Mitcham Ranch. I would imagine the ranch owners use it during winter rather than travel overland in the snow.” Rowley shrugged. “If the house is on the market, who knows how many people have driven up here to view the property over the weekend.” He frowned. “I should have asked Davis if he’d taken any clients out to the place lately.” He pointed to an open gate in the distance. “There’s the entrance on the left.”

A wave of uneasiness pushed Kane’s survival instincts to full alert. From the impressions in the snow, more than one vehicle had visited in the past hours. He pulled the SUV to a halt. “How far from the road is the ranch house?”

“Some way—it’s in the middle of the acreage.” Rowley leaned forward in his seat and squinted into the distance. “You can’t see the buildings until you drive around the trees.”

“Nice and isolated for a drug lab.” Kane indicated with his chin toward the cut-up road. “For a dilapidated property, it sure has a lot of visitors. I think we should proceed with care. Will the trees give us cover to observe the house?”

“I think so but I haven’t been here since high school.” Rowley grimaced and color pinked his cheeks. “Some of us would ditch classes and drive out here to smoke dope. This place has been a local hang-out for kids for years.” He gave Kane a sideways glance. “Don’t worry. I grew up, and like I said, I don’t run with Rockford’s crowd anymore.”

Alton was right about you. Maybe you’re too honest for your own good. “It might be kids but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

The SUV bumped over the compacted snow on the dirt road and turned into a clump of trees. Kane slid out the driver’s seat and moved to the edge of the clearing. A number of buildings surrounded the old dwelling and the remnants of a corral sat beside a tin-roofed barn. The property appeared to be deserted. He listened intently for any unusual sounds. A drug lab would need a generator and ducted ventilation. Scanning the area, he sectioned off each part and made mental notes. He itched to look in the cellar but pushed his mind out of drug-enforcement mode and back to his current case. Sarah’s vehicle had to be on the property. She could not have left because they would have passed her on the road, and a red SUV with “Miller’s Garage” on the side would not be easy to miss. He climbed back in his car and drove onto the driveway.

Stopping near the front of the house, he held up a hand to prevent Rowley getting out of the car. The snow outside the barn swirled in a muddy gray slush and to one side a broken branch held remnants of mud as if someone had attempted to hide footprints. Oh, shit. Heart pounding, his Glock slid into his palm. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and reached for the door handle. “Stay behind me.”

Moving with caution around the edge of the building, Kane put one hand up to stop Rowley and peered through a crack into the barn. The red SUV sat in the middle, windows wound up tight. He did a visual sweep of the area. “All clear.” He slipped inside and checked the vehicle, then did a quick reconnaissance of the barn. “She’s not here.”

He ran across the small courtyard and flattened against the wall of the house. Bobbing his head back and forth, he took the chance of peering into a window covered with dust and laced in cobwebs. Nothing moved and he waved Rowley to his side then tried the front door. The hinges squeaked, the piercing noise loud enough to alert anyone inside the house. He raised his voice. “Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department.”

The silence within was deafening. He counted to ten then moved inside, easing down the hallway and scanning each room. The kitchen door stood open, framing an old wood stove, and the smell of candlewax hung in the air. Waving Rowley into position on the opposite side of the hallway, he moved inside and crouched, ready to fire. A few blackened candles sat in the middle of an old wooden table. Piles of trash, mainly soda cans and cigarette packets, overflowed a rusty bucket and spilled across the floor. He moved along the wall and kicked in the pantry door.

Empty. The place was empty.

“Clear.” Kane holstered his weapon. “No one has been here for ages. Look at our footprints in the dust, which means Sarah didn’t come inside the house. We’d better go and check outside.” He rubbed the back of his neck and stared out the kitchen window. “Do you know if there’s a root cellar?”

“Yeah.” Rowley stared out the front door. “There’s one in the barn.”

Kane took off at a jog and barreled into the barn. He searched the floor, kicking at the piles of debris

to clear the way, then bent and peered under the SUV. “Dammit, the door is under the vehicle.”

Using his gloved hand, he pulled open the car door, slipped the stick into neutral and took off the handbrake. “We’ll push it out of the way.” He moved to the back of the car and stared at Rowley. “What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me you believe the crap about this place being haunted?”

“Yeah, I do.” Rowley walked slowly inside the barn, eyes flicking from side to side. “The curse is real.” He helped shove the SUV the necessary few feet to expose the entrance. “There’s no way I’m going into that root cellar, not without backup.”

“Right. So you don’t think I’m good enough backup. Too bad if someone is dying down there, huh?” Kane gave him a long, hard stare, good enough to make suspects wet their pants. “I could order you, but if you haven’t got the balls to back me up then at least help me open the damn door.” He grasped one of the brass handles and Rowley took the other. “On the count of three. One, two, three.”

The heavy wooden doorway groaned open and a thick metallic smell burned his nostrils, taking him straight back to a mass murder scene he would rather forget. Fuck! “This is the Black Rock Falls Sheriff’s Department. Is anyone down there?”

Not a sound drifted through the stench of hot blood, piss, and shit.

He moved away and pushed a sheet-white Rowley toward the barn door. “Go and get the flashlight from the glove compartment. I’ll see if I can reach the sheriff.” He pulled out his cellphone, and finding no signal, he followed Rowley to his SUV.

He grabbed the flashlight from Rowley. “I’m taking a look in the root cellar. The satellite phone is in a holder under the dashboard. Contact Alton and keep her on the line until I see what’s down there.”

“Y-you sure you don’t want to wait for backup?”