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

“Did she mention what we found in Sarah’s purse?”

Kane raised an eyebrow. If Jenna had found something relevant, she would have told him. “Daniels gave me a rundown: ID but no keys.”

“It wasn’t what was in the purse but what was missing.” Rowley dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “Things like a hairbrush, lip gloss, women’s things. The sheriff thought the killer had taken trophies.” He cleared his throat. “Also, we found a phone number tucked inside some bills.”

“If it was important, she’d have mentioned it to you.” Kane rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the persistent prickling of the hairs. Something was wrong.

“What about John Davis? Is he still a suspect?”

Recalling the conversation with the real estate broker, he shook his head. “Nah. The news shook him up a little too much for him to have killed Sarah and he would have needed an accomplice. Plus I doubt he owns a pair of Walmart cowboy boots.” He sighed. “We need to get out to Stan Clough’s piggery and check on Daniels. Something doesn’t feel right to me.”

Impending doom tightened his chest. His concern over Jenna outweighed his rigid training and it worried him. Giving himself a mental shake, he listed his priorities. He would secure his prime suspect then have every boot on the ground working around the clock until he found Jenna. He glanced at his watch. She had been incommunicado for five hours. If the car had broken down, she could have walked to a ranch in that space of time. His fear of the killer torturing her, raping her, escalated into a rage he had not known existed.

Kane forced the panic down and stood. “Let’s go.” He strode to Magnolia’s desk. “Keep trying to reach the sheriff. If you contact her, call me. I’m heading out to the Clough piggery with Rowley.” He went to Walters’ booth, glad to see he had checked in for his second shift. “I want you to go out on patrol. Drive anywhere you think the sheriff might have visited.” He let out a long sigh. “Has Jenna ever gone off alone before?”

“All the time before you arrived.” Walters shrugged. “She’ll be fine. Tough lady, that one, and independent.”

Kane straightened. “I’m acting on worst-case scenario. Start searching for her now. If I find anything suspicious at the Clough piggery, I’ll do a search and send him back here with Daniels. Right now, Clough is shaping up as our main suspect.” Kane took a deep breath to drop into combat calm. He needed his wits about him. “Concentrate on finding Jenna and let’s hope to God, she is okay.”

“Right you are.” Walters took his jacket from the back of his chair and headed for the door.

Kane marched into Jenna’s office and unlocked the arms’ cabinet. Clough was an unknown quantity and he did not intend to walk into a potentially hostile situation without weapons. He filled his pockets with mags, locked the cabinet, and turned to go. “Oh, shit.”

The office door had swung shut and on the back hanging on a peg was Jenna’s satellite phone.

Incredulity slammed into him. He flung open the door and waved Rowley to join him. “How far away is the piggery?” He handed a rifle to Rowley.

“A good half-hour’s drive or up to an hour at least if the roads are bad.” Rowley’s mouth turned down. “Are you bringing these extra weapons because you think he kidnapped the sheriff?”

If he has, we’re probably too late. “Right now, I have no reason to believe she went anywhere near Clough’s piggery, and Pete has been watching him all morning so it’s unlikely.” Kane shrugged into his coat then pulled his woolen cap over his ears. “We’re going to speak to a potential psychopathic killer and taking these weapons is normal procedure.”

“I’m nervous about what we might find out there.” Rowley’s face paled. “If he is a serial killer, he could have been killing since he got out of jail.”

Kane checked his Glock, slid a bullet into the chamber, and dropped it back into the holster at his waist. “If Clough is our man, he’ll have me to deal with and I don’t take too kindly to men who brutalize people, especially women.”

His cellphone rang. “Kane.”

“I think I have an idea where Sheriff Alton went.” Walter’s voice sounded jovial.

Kane rolled his eyes. “Where?”

“I dropped into Aunt Betty’s and asked Susie if she’d seen her. She said the sheriff mentioned taking a drive to speak to the Daniels brothers.”

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” He disconnected and shot a glance at Rowley. “How far is the Daniels’ ranch from the piggery?”

“Not far.”

Which would place Jenna in the vicinity of a serial killer. Kane rubbed a hand down his face. His head throbbed and anxiety cramped his gut. There had been three unsuccessful attempts on Jenna’s life and she had gone off alone without telling a soul.

Fifty-Three

After spending hours trying to convince the judge to issue a search and arrest warrant for Stan Clough, then a seize order for Rockford’s computers, the last thing Jenna wanted to do was return to the office and confront Kane. She picked up a sandwich and coffee from Aunt Betty’s Café and headed to the Daniels’ ranch, relieved to have a professional excuse to visit her only friends in Black Rock Falls.

She turned off the highway and negotiated the pile of snow outside the Daniels’ ranch. The old cruiser’s engine sent billows of steam into the air, blocking her view. She slowed and negotiated the winding driveway toward the palatial ranch house. The sweeping front steps reminded her of the old Southern plantation houses, and standing out front, waiting to greet her, was Dean Daniels, the eldest of the three brothers. Happy to see a familiar face, she gave him a wave. After discovering it was Dean’s phone number in Sarah’s purse, she had decided to use the excuse for a visit. She doubted the Daniels boys had any information on Sarah Woodward. If they had spoken to her prior to her murder, they would have mentioned it to Pete.

In truth, she needed company outside of the Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department. For a while, she could push the now uncomfortable reality of working in close proximity to David Kane to the back of her mind. After all, she got on well with the brothers, and Dean was closer to her age, not to mention strikingly handsome with his collar-length black hair and teasing grin. She pulled the old car close to a snow-covered garden bed and pushed open the door. “Afternoon. Sorry to come by without notice. I need to ask you a few questions but I won’t disturb your chores too long.”

“I can’t believe you’re driving Pete’s cruiser. I thought it must be at the wreckers after seeing him driving Walters’ cruiser.” Dean pushed a hand through his damp hair and glanced at the car. “The Cloud Express, we call that heap of shit. It overheats the moment you push it over forty miles an hour.” He waved her inside. “Coffee?”