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

Jenna’s eyes showed a flash of genuine compassion. She squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry you had to go down there alone.”

“Rather me than Rowley, and I needed him to keep watch. I didn’t like the idea of someone trapping me down there if the killer decided to return. I must say, the killer’s idea of blocking the entrance with Sarah’s SUV was a stroke of genius. I almost missed it, and if Rowley hadn’t known about the root cellar we wouldn’t have found the body.” He glanced at Walters and, seeing he was way out of earshot, moved closer to Alton. “I have just received info on the body in the barrel. Father Maguire confirmed John Helms is in the habit of wearing a torque bangle similar to the one we found and he has a tattoo on one shoulder. I’ve asked him if he could send us the name of Helms’s dentist. I’ll have Helms’s X-rays sent to the forensics team to make a comparison before we contact his next of kin.” He puffed out a sigh in a cloud of steam. “After this murder, I’m worried about Mrs. Woodward.”

Kane glanced at Jenna and wondered if he should confide his concerns to her. “After what the guy who assaulted you threatened, do you think killing Sarah was another warning for you to keep quiet?”

“I hope not, but it’s possible.” Jenna peered at him and a flash of worry crossed her face. “I think Mrs. Woodward could also be dead and we just haven’t found her body yet. She could be in a barrel as well and buried in the landfill.”

Kane rubbed his chin. “You could be right, but what is confusing me is why someone wanted to destroy the letters Sarah had in her possession. Before we identified the body in the barrel, it was reasonable to believe whoever killed her had something to do with Mrs. Woodward’s disappearance.”

“Unless she ran into Stan Clough and mentioned she’d told her daughter all about her visit? Maybe we should ask her mother?” Alton flicked a glance in Walters’ direction and lifted both dark eyebrows. “We’ll talk later in private.” As the old deputy strolled toward her, she raised her voice. “There’s nothing we can do for her now. We need to get to work and find her killer.”

Kane grimaced. “It would help if we had a suspect.” He looked at Deputy Walters. “Any luck finding Sam Clough’s current address?”

“Not yet. Davis likely sold him a new place but he is out of the office right now. I left a message.”

“I picked up a couple of flasks of fresh coffee and hot food from Aunt Betty’s for you and Rowley.” Jenna waved a small hand toward Walters’ cruiser. “There’s a box of cakes, apple pie, and cookies as well in the trunk. Eat first then we’ll unload the truck.”

He shook his head. “I don’t feel like eating right now. You should go inside and I’ll grab Rowley to help me unload the generator.”

“No need. The generator is set up to work from the truck bed.” Jenna walked to the back of the truck and pulled out a box of equipment.

“Did you bring floodlights?” Kane peered at the lanterns packed inside a box.

“I’ve brought everything we need. I have survival packs in the back of the cruiser, blankets, heaps of food, my coffee machine, and a change of clothes. I even brought my microwave.” Jenna gave him a dismissive wave. “I can handle things from here and Walters is keeping a watch out for unwanted visitors. Go and eat before the food gets cold.” She lifted her chin as if defying him to disobey her. “That’s an order.”

Thirty-Seven

Jenna waited for Kane to return, picked up a halogen flashlight, depressed the button, then moved down the steps of the root cellar, the extension cord tucked under one arm. Halfway down, the st

ench leaked through the face mask and apprehension of seeing a brutal, insane act of violence cramped her stomach. She refused to allow Kane to witness any weakness and squared her shoulders. It would have taken guts to walk down the steps alone in the pitch-black knowing death lay in wait. A faint glow of light spilled from the room and she tightened her grip on the flashlight. Breathing through her mouth, she turned the corner and moved the beam around a room cloaked in deep shadows. A single dusty lightbulb hung from a long string in the middle of the cellar.

She plugged in the cords and bent to attach power to the floodlights Kane held out for her. Straightening, she peered into blue eyes looking intently at her over his mask. She cleared her throat and willed her knees to stop shaking. “You ready?”

“Yeah, power up.” As the powerful lights streamed across the room like sunlight, Kane averted his gaze. “Man, that’s bright.” He blinked rapidly then indicated with his chin toward the bunk beds. “She’s over there.” He pulled his cellphone out of a pocket. “You’ll want our own set of photographs, I imagine?”

Jenna nodded absently and stared at the blood spatter extending from under the bunk bed barrier to the wall. She dragged leaden feet toward the body, keeping to the wall to avoid stepping in the sticky, dark, crimson blobs. Glad to have Kane’s solid strength at her back, she pressed against the wall and edged around the beds. Kane’s description of the crime scene as a bloodbath had been an understatement. Sarah had suffered for a considerable time before her killer had mercifully cut her throat. The blood pattern splashed on the walls and ceiling told of a prolonged, brutal attack. She had to dismiss the wave of compassion for the girl staring at her, with blue eyes opaque in death and mouth stretched open in a silent scream.

Stepping outside the brutality before her, Jenna called upon her years of training to observe the murder scene in a clinical, professional manner. She turned and followed the drops of blood back to the entrance and glanced up to examine the blood spatter on the ceiling. “Look up there. I believe she was hit from behind, knocked senseless, and staggered over here.” She pointed to the trail of droplets and Kane’s footprints. “The disturbance in the dust on the table makes me believe she grasped it to get her balance. There is blood on the floor and a few drops on the table. If the killer had been in this area, he would have wiped it down.”

“I agree.” Kane moved to her side then pointed one gloved finger to the chair beside the wooden table. “The killer must have threatened her with a weapon to make her undress. Look at her clothes. I doubt he would have bothered to take the time to fold everything. He would have torn them from her. I would say she folded the clothes to gain time, maybe to get her head straight after the blow. From the precise folding, she wasn’t badly injured. I’d say he used the blow as a threat of intent to make her follow orders.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s take a step backward. The only place there is evidence of a struggle or injury of any kind is here, not in the barn. Whoever killed her would realize no woman of sound mind would come down here in the dark. The killer is familiar with the layout of the place and brought lamps of some kind. I’d say he planned this ahead of time.”

“Or he had an accomplice.” Jenna met Kane’s dark gaze. “Do you think two people are involved? One killed her and the other ransacked her motel room?”

“The door wasn’t forced. Someone used her key.” Kane stared at the pile of clothes as if in deep thought. “Without the time of death, it’s speculation, but she could have been killed before the room was ransacked.”

Jenna glanced around the cellar then moved with care toward the pile of clothes and moved the flashlight beam across the table. “I see boots but where is her purse? Every time I’ve seen her, she had a pink vinyl bag hanging over her shoulder. Trust me, a woman rarely goes anywhere without her handbag.”

“We’ll need to do a search of the vehicle.” Kane’s gaze drifted over her face. He turned around and stared at the body, his brow wrinkled. “I’d like to see her cellphone as well. Someone arranged to meet her here. I wish she’d contacted me before she decided to head off alone.”

“So do I, but the reason begs a question. Sarah didn’t appear gullible to me, and I believe she had a good head on her shoulders. Do you think she trusted the man who lured her down here?”

“It sure looks that way.” Kane cleared his throat. “It has to be someone she met in the last week.”

“Yeah, and it points to someone who frequents this place.” Jenna flicked him a glance. “Or whoever made the place ready for potential buyers.”

“Nah, the owner would hardly use his barn as a place to commit murder and risk being disturbed by someone coming here to view the property. No one is that stupid. At this point, we have three main suspects. Stan Clough fits the profile but we have no motive. John Davis had plenty of contact with Sarah but this is too neat. At his age, I doubt he would have the energy to clean up in such a short time. Plus, he sent a list of the properties he gave Sarah to the station. Why would he do that if he planned to murder her? Same goes for James Stone, apart from being a bit creepy he doesn’t have a motive, but I will check him out just in case.” Kane took photographs then moved closer, his giant bulk casting twin giant shadows on the opposite wall. “Then we have Rockford. My worry is Stan Clough, a potential psychopath, whereabouts unknown. Finding him is top priority.”

“I agree, but right now the only people we can positively place in town at the time of Sarah’s murder are Josh Rockford, Beal, and Watts.”