Her Shallow Grave (Detectives Kane and Alton)

“Nope.” Brock shrugged. “I had a cat once but never replaced her because I’m away so much.”

“Okay, thanks.” Kane headed toward the cabin as Jenna was walking out. He lowered his voice but behind him Brock and Reed were talking up a storm. “Find anything?”

“No.” She snapped off her gloves. “No one is living there. There’s no cellar. It’s very small inside. If he is keeping anyone against their will, he’s doing it in town—or he has an accomplice.” She indicated with her chin toward the men. “They look like close friends.”

“Maybe, but killing takes a dominant and submissive. I’m not seeing that here. I think it would be more likely to be one of Reed’s MC buddies, like Mad Dog Morgan. My understanding is that Reed doesn’t come up here often, so I figure he does most of his interacting with Brock at the soup kitchen.”

“That’s not a place most people would risk planning murders.” Jenna looked downhearted. “I’m sure Reed is involved. He fits the profile and so does Grady… well, come to think of it, Brock does as well. My money is on Reed. We have found him out to be a liar and he was the last person to see Zoe alive.”

Kane shrugged. “We haven’t found any solid evidence against any of them yet but on the bright side, Brock gave us permission to search his cabin.” He gave the men a wave and led the way back to his truck.

“That’s good. Although I think it’s a waste of time. He wouldn’t give us the run of the place if he had anything to hide.” Jenna removed her gloves and followed him. “How far is it?”

Kane climbed behind the wheel and consulted his GPS. “Not far.”

The cabin was about a mile higher up the winding mountain road and surrounded by trees. Only a small area enough to park a few vehicles had been cleared and it was as if the forest was slowly reclaiming the land. Kane scanned the area. It had been recently cleared of snow and a snowplow attachment like his own sat in a woodshed beside the cabin. A thin line of smoke curled from a chimney and on the front porch sat an ancient rocking chair.

“There’s a meat locker.” Jenna walked toward it pulling on gloves. “If I wanted to freeze a body, I’d put it in there.”

Kane pulled on surgical gloves and grabbed a forensics kit from the back of his truck. He looked around. “For a single guy living alone, he takes the time to clear the snow. Most would just make a path in and out.”

“Same in here.” Jenna peered into the meat locker. “This has been cleaned recently and there’s ice on the bottom.”

Kane pulled out a test kit. “I’ll swab it just in case but I guess he was making it ready for the bison meat he’s getting today.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Jenna turned to look at the house. “It would be lonely out here.”

Kane took the swabs then straightened. “No lonelier than your ranch. You’re miles from town too.”

“Yeah but I have conveniences.” She chuckled. “Not to mention you living close by.” She headed toward the cabin.

Inside, the cabin was neat, clean, and warm. Kane checked the kitchen and found what he’d expected for a man living alone. A ton of canned goods in a pantry, beer in the refrigerator along with stale milk. A half empty mug of cold coffee sat on the sink beside a warm coffee maker. “Well, it looks like he lives here.”

“Yeah, I found clothes, the bed is made and there’s toiletries in the bathroom. I can’t find a cellar.” Jenna walked down a narrow hallway. “Ah, this has to be it.” She tried the door. “It’s locked. Can you open it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kane pulled out his lockpicks and had the satisfying feeling when the tumblers moved. He tried the door and it opened with a whine. “This hasn’t been opened for some time and the hinges are rusty.”

“We’ll go down and look around.” Jenna took out her Maglite

Inside dusty cobwebs thick like lace curtains filled the entrance and old air escaped in a musty cloud. He aimed his Maglite down the old wooden steps. It was a small room, maybe five yards square, just a root cellar at best. “I don’t think those steps will take my weight. It’s empty apart from the spiders. It hasn’t been used in decades.”

“Okay, it’s getting late. Let’s go or we’ll miss the snowplow.” Jenna pushed the door shut and tried the handle. “It’s locked again. I think I’d keep it locked too. It’s dangerous.”

Glad to be heading back to town, Kane followed her outside into the cold. The snow had stopped for a few minutes and the mountainside was so still, it was as if they’d walked out into a photograph. He slid an arm over Jenna’s shoulder and pointed through the trees to the snowscape far below. From here, he could see for miles. “Look at that view. Summer here is glorious but even in winter this is a beautiful place to live. Why do crazy people have to spoil it by going and killing someone?”

“I don’t know, Dave.” Jenna let out a sigh making a cloud of steam around them. “Lately, I’m starting to believe I’m living in someone else’s nightmare.”

Fifty-Three

The promise Preacher made to allow Ava to walk free didn’t eventuate. Preacher had lied to her. After returning from Aunt Betty’s Café, Ava had been shoved in her room and left alone for hours. She was hungry and thirsty. By the time Preacher arrived home, she was ready to scream but had to be nice and go along with his craziness or she’d be the next one shoved in the meat locker. When the door finally opened, and he looked at her with excitement dancing in his eyes, her stomach dropped and fear dried her throat. What had he been doing? She stood in the middle of the room and curled her lips into a smile. “Oh, there you are. Would you like me to help with dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.” Preacher gave her an appreciative look. “But I can make you some grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Stomach growling, Ava nodded. He was being very charming, as if trying to impress her. In fact, if Preacher wasn’t a crazy psychopath, she might like this side of him, but she refused to be lulled into a false sense of security. “I can help out.” She frowned. “What about Isabella, she’d be hungry too?”

“Isabella is on a cleansing diet.” Preacher smiled at her. “You’ll understand later but right now, I need you sitting at the kitchen table. This is your last test. If you pass then I’ll allow you to come hunting with me.”

Cleansing diet? Trying to keep her expression neutral as a ton of possibilities raged through her mind, she sat down and allowed him to cuff one wrist to the table. As he meticulously washed his hands and then set about cooking for her, she wanted to say, “Hunting what?” But she guessed it wasn’t animals. He wanted more girls, more people to murder. Instead she gathered her thoughts and forced herself to sound interested. “That would be nice.”