“No need, I’ll look into it before I leave.” She smiled at him. “You’ll be in charge until Rowley returns.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jenna returned to her office and called the forensics department.
“We have determined the existence of blood on the hood but have yet to determine its origin. Would you like me to call you the moment the results are available?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She disconnected then went down the list, dialing the missing persons’ next of kin. Hearing the excited voice of a relative expecting to hear she had found their loved one alive then the despair at her denial was heartbreaking. She spoke to an elderly woman about her daughter, missing more than three years. “Did you have any communication from Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department after you filed the missing persons’ report?”
“I did, yes. They told me by the bank records, they had reason to believe Jessica left the area and told me to file a report in the next county. I haven’t heard a word since.” She let out a snort of disgust. “Blackwater Sheriff’s Department found no trace of her either and informed me I’d have to wait seven years before she could be declared dead.”
Jenna winced. “I’m so sorry. I’m the new sheriff and I’ll take another look at the case. I will inform you of our findings.”
“I won’t hold my breath.” The line went dead.
All the missing people had apparently visited Blackwater prior to their disappearance and their relatives had received the same information from her office. All had the sudden urge to drain their bank accounts, just like Mrs. Woodward. Jenna jumped to her feet, went to the firearms lock-up, and took out a rifle. Snatching her coat on the way, she strode to the office door and marched up to Deputy Walters’ desk. “I need you to check the ATM records for John Helms. Can you tell me if he disappeared immediately after withdrawing money in Blackwater?” She rested the rifle against his desk and shrugged into her coat.
“I’ll do a search.” Walters stared at the weapon and raised a gray eyebrow then tapped away at his keyboard. He turned the screen for her to view the results and a frown crossed his face. “It sure looks like it. He was moving around spending money left, right, and center. Maximum cash withdrawals each time, just the same as the others.”
“The others? You knew about the bank account checks on the other missing persons?”
“Not until today. I was on vacation as far as I can recall but I found the files in the old archives.” He hitched a rough thumb over one shoulder to an old computer. “I transferred everything I found to the new system.”
“I had no idea there was a separate archive.” Jenna leaned over and stared at the screen. “What is the attraction in Blackwater? Hookers and male escorts?” She ran her gaze down the five-figure amounts and raised an eyebrow. “High class, by the amounts.”
“There are hookers everywhere but I don’t know of any male escort agencies. If the men needed company, why go out of town? The Cattleman’s Hotel here in Black Rock Falls has high-class escorts at the bar most nights, not Blackwater.” Walters gave her an inquisitive stare. “You knew that, right?”
“No, I was not aware.” Jenna straightened and heard Daniels snigger from the next booth. “Prostitution is a crime in this sta
te, Deputy, and I intend to enforce the law. My next question is, why hasn’t this problem been dealt with before?”
“No proof.” Walters shrugged. “We can’t prove they’re engaging in prostitution, no money changes hands. It’s not a crime to meet a woman in a bar or to have sex with her after a date, is it?”
“I will be looking into this later but right now grab your coat and follow me.” Jenna picked up the rifle and headed toward the front desk. She tapped Magnolia on the back then drew her into a quiet space. “I’m pulling in a few deputies from Blackwater County. When they arrive, send them out to the Old Mitcham Ranch. I’ll be available by satellite phone if you need me. Oh, and if the media contacts you about the case at the landfill or anything else at all, you tell them ‘no comment.’ Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ve been ‘no commenting’ all day.”
“Good.” She smiled. “Deputy Daniels will be holding the fort. Walters will be back within the hour with Rowley. Make sure there is plenty of fresh coffee. It’s going to be a long shift.”
Thirty-Five
Kane stood beside Rowley on the front steps of the old ranch house, rifle in hand. He had switched all his incoming calls to the satellite phone and pushed it inside his pocket. If Jenna got into trouble on the way out here, he could track the device in her earring on either phone, but right now, with a crazy on the loose, her safety was his first priority. He pushed the unease to one side and glanced around. His gaze moved to the bank of trees, blocking his sightline to the road, and the idea someone might be watching them played on his mind. In their current position, they would be sitting ducks. He turned back toward the door. “Let’s wait inside. I don’t like being so exposed.”
“Me either.” Rowley shot him a fearful look and ducked inside the house. “The place hasn’t changed since I was a kid.”
“Yeah? So did you take girls down the root cellar to party? With the ghost legend, it would have been the place to be on Halloween.”
“Nah, I didn’t go near the barn, period. None of us ever went within ten feet of the door and I doubt anyone goes there now, or ever will again. I’d say the chances of selling this place now is zero.” Rowley leaned against a wall, disturbing the green peeling paint, which fell over his shoulders like dandruff. “The old man who last lived in this house hanged himself from the rafters after murdering his wife. The legend says he haunts the place day and night. Even his grandson, the late sheriff, wouldn’t come near the place.” Rowley swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “They say you can hear the rafters creaking as his granddaddy swings back and forth.” He stared sightlessly out the window toward the barn. “The old man’s wife had been beaten and near decapitated. That’s why his son cut up the property and sold the land surrounding the ranch house. He built a new place over the other side of town but the land backs onto this fence line.”
“Really?” Bile rushed up the back of Kane’s throat. The image of Sarah’s battered body flashed across his mind like a scene from a horror movie. It was as if history was repeating. “Where did they find the wife?”
“In the root cellar behind the bunk beds. Same place as you found Sarah.” Rowley lifted his gaze and frowned. “Josh went down there on a dare and told us the place was just as the cops had left it, like a time capsule. He said there are still bloodstains on the floor. It freaked me out big time.” He gave a short bark of a laugh as if to cover his embarrassment. “Being about twelve years old at the time, I had nightmares for over a year. I’m not looking forward to staying here overnight, not now, after what’s happened. The place is cursed. Now everyone will say Sarah is haunting the place.”
“If you plan to succeed in law enforcement, you need to grow a pair.” Kane snorted and glared at him. “It’s not a ghost you need to be worried about; we have two unsolved murders, and the killer or maybe killers are still at large. I’m betting whoever murdered Sarah didn’t consider the tracker on the SUV and might return to move the vehicle to a different location.” Keeping his back to the wall, he shifted position to one side of the window and glanced outside. Josh Rockford’s name had come up again and made him wonder if the overconfident bully was the key player in this macabre play. “Keep a watch outside and stay clear of the window. I’m going to check out back.” He grabbed his rifle and strode into the kitchen.
Running the facts through his mind, he scanned the backyard through the dusty kitchen window and then eased away from the wall to recheck the lock on the back door. He doubted the killer would return in daylight to relocate the SUV Sarah had hired but he would keep his guard up just in case. The evidence pointed to a local who knew the isolation of the Old Mitcham place and the existence of the root cellar. Rockford fit the profile, and Stan Clough more so with a background of cruelty to animals, and both would have relied on the haunted barn myth to keep people away from the root cellar. Yet leaving the SUV had been a massive mistake. The vehicle proved Sarah visited the ranch, and anyone looking for her would have started an immediate search of the area. He wondered why the killer had not moved the vehicle to a different location, especially after making a substantial effort to cover his tracks. Maybe he didn’t have time and planned to come back after dark.
He slammed his palm against his forehead. What an idiot. The killer had not run out of time. He had the sense not to relocate the SUV then risk a long walk back to collect his vehicle. If anyone had arrived, it would have advertised his identity.