If his current occupation hadn’t been so lucrative in both money and satisfaction, he could have followed a different path. People believed him no matter what crimes he committed or lies he told. He had charm in spades and could talk his way out of trouble. After his father’s death, he convinced his partner to sign over his business and bank account to him the week before he died. The idiot actually believed he would look after his family for him. Hell, he would rather cut their throats.
The thought made him chuckle but he quickly sobered. The urge to kidnap was getting strong again; the adrenaline rush was long gone from Sky’s abduction. Now all he had to do was to find someone in the middle of winter in a blizzard. He logged in to his social media sites, scrolled through his many profiles and smiled. Several young people had made plans to return to Black Rock Falls for the holidays. He made a list and decided to take as many as possible; it was a long time until the spring break and he needed his hospital ward full.
Out of interest, he went to Sky’s Facebook page and read the posts. At last, Ella Tate was online and trying to get a group together to search for her friend but had gotten no response. He went to her page to search through her images. He found she was staying with Sky’s parents in Black Rock Falls and responded at once when he friended her. He went on to search for other suitable people to kidnap and the computer buzzed a message. Ella wanted his help to find Sky. He read it and smiled at his good fortune. Oh yes, of course I will help you find your friend.
Eighteen
Frost crystals coated Kane’s truck by the time he led the way from the recycler’s yard in Black Rock Falls with Rowley close behind him. He inhaled, clearing his lungs of the smell of oil, grease and body odor. Winter had its own smell, crisp and clean. As he exhaled, a plume of steam surrounded him. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine. After a brief look around the yard, he’d examined both the crusher and shredder then had a chat to the proprietor, Chuck Burns. It had been a waste of time and their search had found no evidence. He glanced at Rowley, whose chapped lips and bright red cheeks mirrored most of the people in town. He idled the engine, and turned on the heater to defrost the windshield. At least the snow had stopped for a while but a voice of doom on the news had forecast another blizzard for later in the day.
Even with the bitter cold and with the constant threat of headaches, he hadn’t regretted returning to Black Rock Falls. He’d found a home in this strange town and the people accepted him. Nothing seemed to dampen the spirits of the townsfolk and he admired them for their strength. They rarely complained and bundled against the weather in brightly covered clothes, hats and scarves made a colorful display. As he drove back to town, he waved back at people clearing their driveways. To most, snow or sunshine, it was just another day. He turned the truck onto the main street and headed to the office.
The town had turned into a Christmas card overnight. Trees hung heavy with snow and every house had a white roof and a line of icicles hanging along the front like lacy bunting. Kids with red runny noses built snowmen in front yards, laughing and throwing snowballs as if they hadn’t noticed the freezing temperature.
Christmas trees with lights blinking adorned many front windows and decorations proclaiming the holiday season filled the town. He turned to Rowley. “I guess we should drive up to the industrial area and check out the other junkyard.”
“Not much point.” Rowley rubbed his hands together. They shut down for four weeks at least over winter.” He glanced at Kane. “The snowmobile team went up there looking for Sky Paul and said the gate was chained up.”
Kane frowned. “But they weren’t looking for signs of a crushed car.” He took the road out of town, glad the salt spreader had cleared the highway. “In cases like this, we have to play the ‘what if’ game. We have no clues, zip, and in truth, we don’t know if we have a victim. We have blood evidence and a sketchy report from a woman who could be involved in a murder.”
“So, what if she killed her, you mean? Well, she was the last person to see her alive and that kinda makes her an automatic suspect.” Rowley unzipped his jacket and removed his gloves as the heater kicked in. “Do you figure she drove the car to the recycler’s, had it crushed with the body inside then walked back to the road?”
“Nope because that ‘what if’ is missing a vital piece of information.” Kane flicked him a glance then kept his eyes on the frozen landscape. “The chance of Ella Tate knowing the guy or watchman or whoever is involved with the junkyard would be remote. Someone had to be there to crush Sky’s vehicle. It’s not something she could do alone.”
“So what is your ‘what if’?” Rowley looked at him interested.
“What if the incident played out as Tate said and the killer owns the junkyard?”
“Killed the girl, towed the car here and crushed the evidence?” Rowley smiled. “Makes sense.”
Kane took in the beauty of the brilliant white countryside, flattened by the snow. He remembered his first drive into Black Rock Falls along the same highway, in the snow at night. The isolation and eerie quiet, the blackened trees standing along the road like a battalion of soldiers’ guns held at attention. He could not imagine a young woman choosing to spend a night up a tree or walking miles in the snow. Her survival had been close to a miracle. “So now we have two possible scenarios.”
“I guess we could cross-check her phone records with the owner and see if she knows him.” Rowley pulled out his cellphone and scanned files on the case.
Kane nodded. “Yeah and if she does know him, she could have contacted him from the Blackwater Roadhouse to tell him they were on their way.”
“Why kill her best friend?” Rowley turned in his seat. “It seems a bit extreme just because she argued with her over Sky’s brother.”
“Yeah, the motive is a sticking point with me too.” Kane glanced at his GPS. “Are we close to the place Tate said they were attacked?”
“Yeah, see those trees over there? That’s where Tate said she spent the night.” Rowley pointed out the window. “Going on her statement the attack must have happened opposite.”
Kane slowed his truck to a crawl. No vehicles moved in either direction and the place was as silent as a tomb. He scanned the area, seeing the recent grooves from the snowmobiles along the partially cleared path. The group of pines where Tate had sheltered were heavy with snow, their branches bending under the weight. High in the tree beneath snow-covered branches would be the safest place to survive a night in these conditions. Out of the wind, the snow-laden branches would form an igloo of sorts around her.
He turned to Rowley. “How far is the junkyard?”
“Straight ahead, first turn on the right, there is a bright orange sign. The road was cleared so we should get through okay.” Rowley pulled on his gloves and peered out at the sky. “I’m not sure how long the blizzard will hold off, the sky looks fit to burst.”
Glad of the snow tires, Kane eased his truck along an ice-covered blacktop that wound its way past a field of rusty old cars dating back fifty years or more. Each had a liberal coating of white and crazed frost patterns across the windows. He pulled up in front of the huge iron gates and blasted his horn. The place looked deserted and he slipped from the car, dragging down his hat firmly over his ears then pulling up his hoodie. He opened the door and Duke jumped down beside him and sniffed the frozen ground then sneezed.
Kane did a visual scan of the area then turned to Rowley. “We need to find out when they shut down. The heavy machinery used to lift the vehicles into the crusher and the crusher itself doesn’t appear to have the same amount of snow piled up on them as the surrounding buildings.” He took out his cellphone and took a few photographs. “See here, where the gate opens the snow is only a few inches deep.”
“Yeah, but they use a lot of salt up here in the driveways.” Rowley kicked the snow from his boots on a tree stump. “And I would say someone would drop by from time to time to keep an eye on the place.”
Kane pushed the phone back inside his coat. “Maybe, but there’s not much to steal, is there? I’m not sure many would try to scale this fence in winter.” He sighed. “I’ll look up the snow gauge measurements for this area. Right now if the owner shut down before the first blizzard the amount of snow doesn’t tally. If he shut down after then he would have been open the day after the attack. If so, why wasn’t he here during the search?”
“The snowmobile group said the gates were locked when they came by and they’ve been by three or four times searching the area.” Rowley stared into space. “What next?”
Kane headed back to his truck and pulled open the back door for Duke to jump onto his blanket. “We find out when they shut down and ask them to allow us to look around. If they don’t allow us inside to search the place, I think we have enough for a search warrant.”