Where Angels Fear (Detectives Kane and Alton)

“Of course I did.” Mrs. Paul’s cheeks flushed deep red. “She informed me her boyfriend picked it up at a yard sale.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “And before you ask, no she didn’t know who had the yard sale but I can tell you, there aren’t many at this time of year.”

Rowley frowned. He needed to move on this clue immediately. “Okay, give Deputy Walters all the details and I’ll speak to the sheriff.”

He stepped out of earshot and called Jenna to explain the situation. She didn’t hesitate to send him to hunt down Dr. Weaver and get photographs of the sweater. After dragging on his coat and hat, he headed do

wntown to Dr. Weaver’s clinic, found a parking space and headed inside. He nodded at the people in the waiting room and went straight to the desk. “I need to speak with the doctor.”

“Oh, is it a medical emergency?” The receptionist blinked at him over her glasses.

Rowley shook his head, sending ice crystals in all directions. “No, a police matter.”

He waited for the door to open and the patient to walk out, then, before the receptionist could open her mouth, walked inside the doctor’s office. “Doctor Weaver, I’m sorry to bother you when you’re so busy but I need to know about the sweater you’re wearing.” His attention went to the sweater. It was yellow with a red heart. “May I take a photograph of it please and where did you get it?”

“If you must.” Dr. Weaver came from behind her desk and stood in front of him. “I already told the crazy woman, my boyfriend purchased it at a yard sale in town. It’s just like new and although a little snug, is very warm.”

Rowley used his cellphone camera to take the images. “What’s your boyfriend’s name and where can I find him?”

“You only just missed him.” Dr. Weaver smiled at him. “He’s heading back out to the fertilizer plant. He has some maintenance work to do outside in the yard, so he’ll be easy to find. I’d say he left about twenty minutes ago.”

“Okay.” Rowley rubbed his chin. “What’s his name and contact details?”

“Wyatt Sawyer. He owns the meat processing and fertilizer plants outside of town.” She smiled at him. “Did you know all the waste, the bones and the like from meat processing, end up in blood and bone fertilizer? It’s made right next to the meat processing plant.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with obvious pride. “That’s why he buys things at yard sales, he hates waste.”

“I see. And I’ll need his phone number?”

After she rattled off the number, he thanked her and headed for the door. He would have to take a ride out to the plant and speak with Mr. Sawyer. From the sheriff’s case notes, he’d been cooperative during his last interview and Rowley doubted he would cause a problem. After calling in his destination to Maggie in the office, he headed out in the falling snow to the industrial area. He turned the radio to his favorite country and western station and sang along to ease the boredom of the drive.

The scenery changed with every season in Montana. The snow had flattened the landscape, turning the grasslands into a frozen tundra. A few elk sheltered in the spattering of pines but it seemed eerily quiet and he realized how frightened Ella Tate must have been, alone in this wilderness. He’d felt sorry for her the day he’d picked her up and was glad the blood test cleared her. She must have gone to hell and back.

He turned into the snow-covered road leading to the industrial estate and followed the icy blacktop to the processing plants, following a well-worn path through the snow. He found the fertilizer plant without difficulty—he could have followed the smell to it anyway. From the stink, the process of crushing and cooking the waste carried on even during the shutdown. He rolled into the parking lot in time to see a man walking toward him, cellphone in one hand and a shovel in the other. Dressed in a dark hoodie, matching pants and steel-capped working boots, he stood close to six feet, with wide shoulders. He eyed Rowley with suspicion. When the man pushed the phone into his pocket and gave him a smile, he slid from his cruiser. “Mr. Sawyer?”

“That’s me.” The man stopped a few yards from the vehicle and leaned on his shovel. “What can I do for you, Deputy?”

The case and the questions he needed to ask came to the front of his mind and Rowley took a step toward him. “I wanted to ask you about the sweater you gave Doctor Weaver.” He remembered he’d neglected to report his arrival to Maggie and held up a hand. “Just a minute, I forgot to call in.”

As he turned to climb back into the cab, the sound of a gong inside his head broke the silence and his brain exploded in pain. Confused, he staggered and fell against his truck. What had happened? He turned slowly to peer through blurred vision at Sawyer and caught the cold look in his eyes and the way his mouth had set in a thin line. Shaking his head, he went to say something, but Sawyer raised the shovel again, advancing like a rattler. He moved so fast, Rowley didn’t have time to defend himself. Agony slammed into him, the blow sending shockwaves through his teeth. His stomach rolled and the too-bright parking lot moved in and out of focus. Holy shit, he’s going to kill me.

Fifty-Eight

Agitation slithered over Jenna at Wolfe’s shake of the head. “What do you mean, ‘no blood’? There has to be trace evidence here. It’s the middle of winter and Burns had to dispose of the bodies. The crusher makes sense.” She jammed her hands in her pockets. “It’s not as if he could dig a hole in the frozen ground, is it?”

“Nope, but assuming the victims are dead, and I’ve yet to discover any evidence to prove that theory, he could have stashed them somewhere.” Wolfe gave her a condescending look. “It’s not as if they are going to be found until the melt and moving frozen bodies would be easier than rotting corpses.” He sighed. “He would have at least three days before they defrosted and plenty of time to drop them down a mineshaft once the roads cleared.”

“Jenna.” Kane touched her arm. “Do you want me to go get Duke? If there are any bodies around the property he’ll find them.”

“Not necessarily.” Wolfe removed his gloves and mask. “The snow is great for tracking because we can follow footprints or whatever but Duke isn’t cadaver-trained. The dogs learn to recognize the scent of decomposition and when a body is frozen and covered with fresh snow, it becomes an almost sterile environment. There are no scents for the dogs to smell.”

“What makes you believe they’re dead, ma’am?” Webber gave her a long look. “The blood in the vehicle is consistent with the one blow described by the witness. According to Ella, Sky was alive after the attack. Have you considered the sex-slave trade? That would make more sense than murder.”

Annoyance rippled over Jenna. There should have been blood evidence and now Webber was trying to undermine her authority. “Of course I have but those monsters usually want their merchandise much younger and in good condition. They prefer teenagers or younger and Doug Paul would be more of a problem than he’d be worth.” She glared at him. “I’m convinced this is a homicide case and I’m treating it as such until proved otherwise.”

“I can’t consider it a homicide without substantially more evidence.” Wolfe’s mouth flattened to a thin line. “I’m sorry, Jenna. There’s just not enough evidence.”

Jenna’s phone chimed. “It’s Maggie. I’d better take it.”

“Seems someone found what looks like a tooth in a bag of fertilizer this morning. They found it when they were potting up bulbs in their garden shed.” Maggie sounded apologetic. “I have it right here. I figure the ME needs to take a look at it, it sure looks like it has a filling to me.”

Appalled, Jenna swallowed hard and touched Wolfe’s arm to get his attention. “Do they have the packaging the fertilizer came in?”