“Move.” Kane gave Burns a little push in the back and marched him out the door and to the old garage next door.
“Oh, lord. Don’t go in there.” Burns’ head hung down on his chest and his shoulders slumped. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand just fine.” Jenna slid the key into the padlock on the garage door. “Do you have something to tell me, Mr. Burns?” She gave him an enquiring look. “No? Well then I guess we take a look for ourselves.” She bent to slide up the door.
The door moved without the grating sound Kane would have expected for an old rusty door. He took a hold of Burns’ arm and the man’s muscles trembled against his palm. Light flowed into the dark interior and hit the polished finish of a late-model yellow sedan. The car was little more than a shell and Burns had stacked parts on shelves complete with labels giving the make, year and model of the vehicle. The exact same car owned by Sky Paul.
He heard Jenna ordering Rowley and Webber to return, then she turned to face Burns.
“Where’s Sky Paul?” Jenna holstered her weapon. “This is her vehicle. Best you tell us now before my deputies tear the place apart.”
Burns trembled but said nothing.
Kane squeezed Burns’ arm just hard enough to let him know he meant business. “Where’s Sky Paul?” He glared at him. “The DA will go easy on you if you cooperate.”
“I don’t know anyone by the name of Sky Paul.” Burns lifted his head and a determined expression crossed his face. “I found the vehicle abandoned on the side of the road up near the industrial area out on the highway.”
“Why didn’t you report it?” Jenna stood hands on hips and her eyes bored into him. “It’s been all over the news we were looking for this car.”
“I ain’t sayin’ no more.” Burns turned his head and spat on the ground at Jenna’s feet. “I know my rights, I want a lawyer.”
Just then, Rowley and Webber came jogging back through the snow toward them. Kane pushed Burns toward Rowley. “Escort Mr. Burns to the back of your cruiser.”
“Yes, sir.” Rowley took Burns’ arm and led him away.
“Right.” Jenna raised her voice. “Let’s tear this place apart. Check for root cellars. Webber, I want evidence. There should be blood in the car. The seats are over there, check them as well.” She pointed to the beige car seats leaning against one wall. “Kane, check the other buildings.”
Kane waited for Rowley to return, then grabbed the set of keys hanging from the padlock. “Show me the storage area.” He followed Rowley down a dirt road recently cleared of snow. “This looks promising. Burns took an effort to clear this area. I sure hope we find Sky Paul alive.” He bent to examine tire tracks. “Hmm, I make out three maybe four tracks here. It’ll be difficult to isolate one.”
“Something big came through here and ripped the branches clean off the trees.” Rowley stared down the row of naked western larch. “There’s a clear track here. A delivery van maybe?”
The image of the confident Knox flashed into Kane’s brain. They hadn’t considered it could be a group of people involved in the kidnappings. He grimaced at the thought. “I hope it’s not sex-slave traders.” He brushed away the snowflakes from his cheeks. “Tracing the victims would be impossible.”
The dirt road led to a massive separate red brick building with a small parking lot at the back. An alleyway divided two buildings and Kane led the way, taking in what resembled air conditioning units attached to one side. Someone sure wanted it cold inside that building. He approached a metal door and fitted a number of keys in the lock. After a few tries the door clicked open. He glanced over his shoulder at Rowley. “Watch my back.” He stood to one side and swung the door open.
Inside was pitch black and Kane swore under his breath. It seemed every time he investigated a missing person, he ended up venturing into some eerily dark place or another, and it didn’t get any easier. He used his flashlight alongside his weapon to light the way and edged slowly forward with Rowley close behind, his breath sending great clouds of condensation into the air. It seemed entering the dark unknown wasn’t Rowley’s job of choice either. Further along the hallway they found an empty inner office covered in a thick coating of dust and another door. The door opened onto a long dark passageway. He ran the beam of his flashlight over the wall to find a switch. Only small inset lights, like those in the floor of an aircraft, illuminated the way. “Sheriff’s department. Is anyone in here?”
Nothing.
Heart pounding, Kane pushed down the creeping unease crawling up his spine and reached down deep for his professional façade. Something about this place made his skin crawl and the unpleasant odor seeping from the damp walls played tricks with his mind. Flashes of past crime scenes danced through his subconscious in a warning. Keeping to the wall, he led the way down the dim corridor to another metal door with a keypad set in the wall next to it. He moved forward to examine it and recognized the type. It was a familiar brand and not very secure. He had the technology to open it without a problem but his gut told him he wouldn’t like what was on the other side.
“Now what?” Rowley moved up beside him, aiming his flashlight on the contraption.
Kane holstered his weap
on and pulled out a decoder, as small as a cellphone, from his pocket. “I never leave home without this; it’s very useful.”
Moving with speed, he attached wires to the box and numbers flashed on the screen. After a few seconds, the numbers stopped on the decoder and the door clicked open. A cloud of sub-zero air escaped, bringing with it the metallic smell of blood. He wanted to slam the door shut and glanced at Rowley’s suddenly ashen face. “That doesn’t smell good.”
“Jesus, that smells like… oh, shit.” Rowley’s eyes widened, looking like black orbs in the dim light. “Not bodies again. Should we just call Wolfe?”
Kane shook his head. “We have to take a look.” He slapped Rowley on the shoulder. “You should be getting used to this by now.”
“I’ll never get used to seeing murder victims.” Rowley’s mouth turned down. “At least I don’t puke as much as I used to.”
Unease slid over Kane as he pocketed the decoder and slid the Glock from its holster. Walking into a dark abyss filled with the smell of death brought back memories he’d rather forget. The sightless eyes of past victims flashed into his mind in fast-forward reruns and he ground his back teeth. Not again. “I’m going in. Make sure the door remains open.”
“Roger that.” Rowley placed his back to the door, held his weapon along his flashlight and gave him a less than confident nod. “Ready when you are.”