Her Shallow Grave (Detectives Kane and Alton)

Stifling the gasp from the waves of horror that engulfed her, Ava stared at the floor. Isabella was still alive but he’d kill her if she didn’t comply. Looking into his dead eyes made her want to scream but getting hysterical would break a rule and she’d be back to square one. Her only hope of survival was to make like she was part of his world. Trying to reason with him would get her killed. Wracking her brain and pulling up anything she could remember about psychos from books she’d read, she forced her mouth into a grin and lifted her chin but didn’t meet his eyes. Her only option was to play him at his own game. She laughed albeit on the edge of panic but it took him off guard.

“You think it’s funny?” Preacher moved closer and stared into her eyes so close his breath brushed her cheek. “Look at me?”

Heart thumping so loud, and afraid he might be able to hear it, Ava looked him in the eye. “She’s a pain. And maybe I’d like to see her chopped into pieces.”

“Really? But that won’t stop me killing you if you misbehave.” Preacher shook his head slowly and then stepped back and waved his gun at her. “Get bundled up against the cold.” He indicated to a closet in the hallway. “I’m leaving in five. Hurry I’ve left the truck running.”

After Ava had dragged on a heavy coat, boots, and gloves, she waited for Preacher to unlock the front door. When he waved her in front of him, the wonderful smell of the pine forest, greeted her, cold seeped through her clothes. She stepped outside and blinded by the brilliant white surroundings, stumbled down the front steps. Cold burned her lungs and she couldn’t see. Squinting, she stopped walking and conscious of his Glock pointed at her, turned toward him. “It’s too bright, I can’t see. Remember, I’ve been in the dark for ages.”

“There are sunglasses in the truck.” Preacher grabbed her arm, pressed the gun into her ribs and dragged her to the truck. He shoved her against the door. “Get in.”

Once inside, she took the sunglasses from the dashboard and slipped them on. She clicked in the seatbelt and then cried out in alarm when he slid a zip-tie around one wrist and attached it to a metal ring screwed into the console. She looked at him. He’d covered his face with a scarf and pushed on sunglasses. Under his hood he was unrecognizable. “Sorry. You startled me, I thought it was a snake.”

“No snakes about in the snow. They’re cold-blooded and would move so slow they’d freeze.” Preacher grasped the steering wheel and the truck moved along a cleared track with snow piled up high each side. “I love winter.”

Ava glanced at him. “Me too.”

As they drove along a track, Ava took note of her surroundings. Behind her, the forest stretched out forever and she recalled following a path to a small waterfall. Where was she? As the road continued downward and the trees thinned, she could see for miles. Below was a vast snow-covered lowland with buildings in small clumps peeking out from a blanket of white. The road they traveled on stopped at a wide ranch gate with an open padlock hanging from a chain. Huge signs sat on both sides warning people not to trespass and of dangerous rockslides ahead. They continued down the mountainside, and after negotiating switchbacks too many to count, the road ran into a highway recently cleared and salted. “You’re lucky the snowplow guy comes up to your house.”

>

“He doesn’t.” Preacher glanced at her. “I clear my own roads. Nobody comes here.” He turned onto the highway and accelerated.

It wasn’t long before they drove past houses and then into a very busy town. “Is this Black Rock Falls?”

“Yeah.” Preacher glanced at her. “I guess you don’t remember it, seeing as you arrived here at night.”

Ava looked out the window, memorizing where the sheriff’s department was situated. She hadn’t realized the town would be so big. People milled about everywhere, bundled up and chatting with each other in huge clouds of steam. It was like looking at a comic book and she kept expecting words to appear in the cloud bubbles so she could read their conversations. When Preacher pulled into a parking space and reached for the knife in his belt, she held her breath as he cut her free.

“Remember.” Preacher stared at her. “I have my gun in my pocket. Be nice, Ava and we’ll have some fun later. You and me, we could be good together.”

Terrified at becoming his partner in murder, Ava forced her body to relax. He was so smart he’d pick up any change in her mood. She rubbed her wrist and then looked at him. “Yeah, I think we could. I’ll be so good you’ll want me to come out with you every day.”

“Wait here.” Preacher slipped from the seat and walked around the hood. He pulled open her door and helped her down. With his arm firmly around her waist, he led her toward a store with a sign saying, “Aunt Betty’s Café.” He looked down at her. “Smile at me, Ava, I want people to see how happy we are together.”

Aware he could kill her in seconds, Ava forced her lips into a smile. “Okay.”

Inside the café, as they waited for their order, Ava stared at the plates with samples of Aunt Betty’s newest delights. She pulled off her glove and took a piece of cake and pushed it into her mouth. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

Against her, Preacher stiffened as the sheriff moved beside her. Ava took in the woman, with the bright yellow banner across her chest and back, with the word Sheriff printed in bold letters. She glanced at Ava with intelligent eyes as if taking her in with one quick scan. Wanting to cry out, run away, do something to make her notice her, Ava drew a breath and then pictured Isabela alone in the cellar and what Preacher would do to her if she made a sound. She dragged her eyes away from the sheriff’s inquisitive stare and moved her attention to the other samples. She selected a cookie but noticed how the sheriff had stared at the red poppy tattoo on her hand.

“Anything else you want, honey?” Preacher squeezed her so tight, Ava had to bite back a gasp of pain.

She looked up at him. “No thanks. We have everything I need.”

“Put on your glove and let’s go.” Preacher picked up the bag and led the way out. On the footpath he turned to her. “You did good.”

Heart sinking at having to return to the house with him, she climbed into the truck and stared at the sheriff walking toward a black vehicle. The next moment, as if she’d felt her cry for help, the sheriff turned slowly and looked at her. Their eyes held for a second and then the sheriff turned and climbed into the black truck. Ava turned to see Preacher staring at her. She looked at him and lifted her chin, thinking wildly of something to say. She had to convince him it would be a big mistake to kill her. “Now will you believe I like being with you? We’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde.”

“They died in a hail of bullets.” Preacher stared after the sheriff. “Don’t worry. That woman is too stupid to catch me. Many have tried but I’m still here and I ain’t going nowhere.”

Fifty-One

Jenna and Kane had dropped by a long list of cabins owned by truckers and people working at homeless shelters but after a long morning of traveling roads more suitable to ice skating than vehicles, they’d come up empty. Claude Grady’s hunting cabin was inaccessible, so was removed from their list. When Kane stopped to refuel, Jenna had grabbed takeout from Aunt Betty’s to eat on the way to their next stop. With Rowley feeding them information at a steady rate, they’d traveled miles and then came a breakthrough. Just by chance, Rowley had discovered the whereabouts of a hunting cabin used frequently by biker Axel Reed. High up in Stanton Forest, it was one of two remaining on their list. Josiah Brock, the trucker who volunteered at the soup kitchen, owned the last one.

Since Black Rock Falls had suffered its share of serial killers, Jenna had developed a suspicious nature. In fact, her suspicion radar was on full alert and had flashed like wig-wag lights the moment she set eyes on the girl in Aunt Betty’s. The man accompanying her was so bundled up, his own mother wouldn’t have recognized him, and when he’d driven off with the girl in his truck, snow and frost had obscured his plate. She sat in Kane’s truck staring at the vehicle as it blended into the traffic and vanished in the persistent heavy snowfall.

“What is it?” Kane was staring at her one hand under the carboard tray carrying to-go cups of coffee.