by Unknown
“Makes sense.” Finn lifted his nearly empty glass to catch Tiff’s eye as she bustled by. The waitress gave him a thumbs-up without slowing down.
Keira’s index finger tapped against her glass. Her fingers were long and feminine, the nails short. “We have nine missing people in the fifteen county area that makes up the western side of the peninsula. Another seven on the eastern side. We’re reaching out to the case detectives in those counties. But if we go back further, there have been a few reports in the last several years of tourists that have disappeared. Snowmobilers, hunters, fisherman.” She fell silent when Tiffany came by to hand Finn his beer.
“Steaks are almost up,” the waitress assured them before speeding off again.
Keira reached for her glass. Drank. “The UP is a beautiful area, but things can happen to the careless. A fisherman who goes through the ice on Superior may not be found for months, if at all. We have several wilderness areas on the western side of the peninsula. Not to mention the old copper mines in Keweenaw or the still worked iron mines in Gogebic. With well over a hundred thousand acres of forests and waterways…”
“Lots of places to meet a bad end.” Finn moved his feet out of the way and straightened as Tiffany headed their way with two steaming plates in her hands. “Then there’s always the people who disappear and aren’t missed.”
“Exactly.” Keira unwrapped her silverware and placed the napkin on her lap. “This region is a great place for loners. More trees than people, with plenty of privacy. Last winter one of the deputies was delivering an eviction notice to a resident. The place looked deserted. No prints or tire tracks. The guy’s pickup was snowed under in the shed next to the house. The deputy did a check and discovered the resident dead inside. From the stage of decomposition, he’d likely died months earlier.”
It occurred to Finn that he couldn’t recall a time when he’d sat across the table from an attractive woman and discussed decomposition. He decided he could get used to it.
“And I didn’t even have to raid Diz’s freezer,” Tiffany declared as she deftly set the plates in front of first Keira, then Finn. Although for you I would have. Absolutely.” She took a breath, beamed at them. “Enjoy. Kitchen closes at ten, and tonight I get off at eleven.” She waggled her brows, looking from one of them to the other. “Any chance either of you will still be here?”
“Not likely, sorry.” Keira wasted no time cutting into the steak and lifting a bite to her mouth. Her eyes closed in an expression of exaggerated ecstasy.
“What about you, fudgie?”
Mystified at the name, Finn shook his head and followed Keira’s lead. He picked up his knife and fork. “She’s my wheels.”
Giving up, the woman blew out a breath. “Saturday. Keira, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ve got the weekend off. Maybe we can even go to Powderhorn.”
“I can’t manage a weekend, but give me a call…” Keira began before their heads turned in unison at the raucous laughter coming from the corner booth.
“Tiffany! Get your butt over here.” Yembley raised a bottle. “There are other paying customers in here besides that redheaded…” The rest of his comment was lost, but his companion’s bray of laughter made it all too easy to predict.
“Asswipes,” Tiff muttered and stalked toward the bar.
Finn gave the men in the booth a long look before returning his attention to his plate. “Does she need help with them?”
“She can handle those two.” But all enjoyment had fled from her expression and her gaze fixed on Yembley. “If not…”
If not, Keira would. Her incomplete statement made that clear.
They both turned their attention to enjoying what was—in Finn’s estimation—one of the best steaks he’d had in years. Their conversation was limited. He knew she was as attuned to the growing rowdiness in the nearby booth as he was. He wasn’t sure how many beers the two had imbibed before he and Keira had come in, but they were doubling down now. They ordered again, shots this time, coupled with crude remarks to Tiffany. As Keira had indicated, the waitress handled them with barbed insults. Yet Finn noted the woman kept as far away from the booth as possible when delivering the next round.
“Hey, Pete.” The voice was loud enough to be heard by every occupant in the place. “You know the difference between a ginger and a brick? At least a brick gets laid.” Yembley and his buddy laughed uproariously. Finn caught more than a few surreptitious glances their way. Two tables abruptly vacated as the occupants got up with undisguised haste and went to the register at the far end of the bar to pay their bills. Clearly they sensed what had been brewing for the last half hour. One didn’t have to see the clouds to feel a storm coming on.
“Think you’re right, Bruce.” Pete looked over his shoulder at them, revealing a grizzled jaw and a missing front tooth. “Desperation turns them redheads into lesbos.”
“That true, sheriff?” Yembley called.
Finn tensed. The two were spoiling for a fight. And he would dearly love to be the one who landed the first punch. He glanced at Keira. With a calm expression, she continued to eat as though she’d gone deaf. But her back was rigid. Her fingers clenched around her fork. She wasn’t as unaffected as she appeared.
“I’m talking to you, Saxon. You wearing your dead daddy’s uniform, or did you get one special made for dykes?”
Tiffany propped her clenched fists on the men’s table, her expression thunderous. “Get out. Both of you. And don’t come back.”
“Fuck off, Tiff. You don’t own this place.”
With great deliberation, Keira set her silverware down. Brought her napkin up to pat delicately at her lips. Then rose and stalked toward the booth. Finn stood and followed in her wake. With a subtle movement, she stepped in front of her friend, crowding her from her position beside the table. Finn took a step that placed him at Keira’s side.
She wrinkled her nose. “You smell as gamey as the animals you trap, Yembley. You have running water at your place, right?”
The man’s ugly obscenity had Finn’s muscles tensing.
“Maybe it’s just prison stench. Speaking of which, if memory serves, you’re still on parole. Which means you’re not supposed to be in a place that serves alcohol, or in the company of known felons. Now I don’t know your friend here, but I’m guessing if we run his name we’ll find a sheet as long as yours.” Her voice turned hard. “So you have two choices. You can pay your bill and be on your way, or spend the night in jail before I turn you over to your parole officer.”
The man laughed. “And who’s gonna put me in jail, dyke? You?”
“Not sure she’d need any help. But if so, I’d be glad to provide it.” For the first time, Yembley looked at him, his gaze assessing. Finn didn’t need Keira’s quick sidelong glance to know that his support was unwelcome. At the moment he didn’t particularly care.
“C’mon, Bruce, it ain’t worth it.” Pete spit on the floor, narrowly missing the toe of Keira’s boots.
“Wise choice, Pete.” She moved back, and reluctantly Finn did as well to allow the man to stand. “What do you say, Yembley? Are you as smart as your friend here?”
“Smart enough to know you’re as big a joke as your old man was.” The ex-con slid out of the booth slowly. Stood. “You just keep following in his footsteps. Maybe you’ll wind up dead, too.”
Keira and Finn stepped aside to allow the men to head to the register. Tiffany was already moving in that direction with their checks. As they returned to their table, Keira said, “Just for the record, I didn’t require backup.”
Finn waited for her to retake her seat before following suit and sending her a cool glance. “Just for the record, as long as I’m here…you’ll have backup. Whether you want it or not.” With her look searing him, he picked up his silverware and proceeded to finish the rest of his now cold meal. Keira had just started to do the same when her cell rang.
He reached out for his beer and listened unabashedly.
�
�When? Is there a car en route?” She stood and grabbed her coat. Finn set down the bottle and did the same. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Direct the deputy to establish a perimeter, but tell him not to go inside.” She disconnected, donning her coat and heading to the door, calling out to Tiffany, “Hold my bill. I’ll be back to pay it later.”
“Where are we going?”
Keira shot him a startled glance as if she’d forgotten Finn’s existence. “Not we, me. That was the night dispatcher. The alarm at my place just went off. Someone broke in.”
Chapter 3
In the end, she brought Finn with her when she headed home, siren silent. Keira didn’t want to waste the time it would take to drop him off. Not when adrenaline was churning in her veins, hot and urgent.
He was silent next to her as she kept in contact with her deputy via radio.
“Nothing out of place in front, Sheriff,” Brody Boyle reported. “Phil’s here, too. Your security lights and the alarm are on. I see a set of tire tracks out front. I’m going around back.”
“There should be lights there, as well.” The tire treads in front would have been hers from this morning. If the intruder were the same person who’d left the cooler for her to find, he’d likely approached from the rear of the cabin.
They waited a long couple of minutes before his voice sounded again. “One set of footprints leading to and then away from your back door. It’s standing open. The window a couple feet from it is broken out.”
“Check the rest of the yard, but don’t enter the house.” She disconnected, then contacted Hank Fallon to bring the evidence van. Putting the radio back in its holder, Keira sent a sideways glance to Finn. “At least we can cross Yembley off the list of suspects. Although I doubt he’s above a little breaking and entering, he left the bar minutes before we did. There’s no way he would have had time to get out to my place.”
“Maybe that was the point,” Finn suggested. “Make a public appearance so he has an alibi while an accomplice does the dirty work.”
It was possible, she supposed, although Yembley seemed too impulsive for that sort of planning. Her foot pressed more firmly on the accelerator. A game. She and Finn had reached the same conclusion about the killer’s motivation to involve her. It would take a stretch of the imagination to believe this latest action was attributable to anyone else.
The shrill of the alarm could be heard from the road before she turned down the long drive to the cabin. Joe Boster had a truck with a blade on it and had been keeping it plowed for as long as she could remember. It was clear now; it hadn’t snowed since last night.
The strobe of two cruisers flashed through the barren trees as she made her way to the front of the cabin. Brody and Phil came around the corner of the house as she pulled up. Finn got out of the SUV. She retrieved her MagLite before going to join the deputies.
“There’s a snowmobile track out back. Came out of the woods and looks like he left the same way.”
Keira gave Phil a tight smile. “Of course he did.” Whoever the trespasser was, his familiarity with her property was a detail to be examined later. Finn pulled out his cell and turned on a flashlight app to light his way as he went up to examine the porch and tried the front door. She followed the deputies around to the back of the cabin. The long wide porch hemmed all four sides of it. She could see the broken glass from the yard.
“No signs of movement inside,” Brody told her. “Just one light on in the front room. Looks like he went in through the back window, and exited through the rear door.”
She turned, half surprised to find Finn standing at her side already. The man moved fast and silently. Something to remember. Her gaze fell to the weapon in his hand.
“Let’s enter through the front. Less chance of destroying any footwear impressions that might have been left.”
Nodding, she told her deputies, “Cover the back. Brody, let Finn use your MagLite.” Then she rounded the house again with Finn on her heels. Once she eased up the steps she set her flashlight on the porch to fish her keys out of her coat pocket to unlock and open the front door. Then, picking up the light she drew her weapon and pivoted inside the doorway.
In the cabin the alarm was ear splitting. The glow from the lamp she’d left on spilled as far as the hallway while leaving most of the room dark. Sweeping the area with the flashlight, she saw the front room was empty. With only a glance at the stairway that would go to the second story, she moved quickly toward the hallway ahead that acted as a hub for the other rooms. Kitchen, dining room, bathroom and utility area spoked out from the hall. The entrance to each space was dark.
Shadows huddled in the hallway, each shifting, and morphing as they passed. With her back pressed against the wall, Keira’s light caught the glint of water puddles spotting the planked floor. Following them with the beam she saw the trail at the end of the hall coming out of the bathroom where the broken window had been. It stopped in front of the doorway to the kitchen.
Her heart was hammering. Stupid. The guy was gone. She’d bet the bank on that. She just wasn’t willing to bet her life on it. She jerked her head toward the left and swung into the kitchen as Finn rushed by to check the dining room.
No one under the table. And there was nowhere else to hide in the space. Her chest easing a fraction she called, “Clear.”
“Clear.”
She heard him moving toward the back of the house, but rather than join him she played her light over the droplets of water on the floor showing better than words the path the intruder had taken. There was another small pool in front of the counter. She frowned. Her breakfast dishes were stacked neatly in the sink. Some correspondence she needed to tend to hung from a magnetized clip on the fridge.
And more water was on the floor in front of it.
“Bathroom clear.” Finn’s voice drifted in.
Moving back into the hall, she brushed by him to go to the utility area that connected the cabin to the double garage. Keira swung open the door to her left and peered into the remaining room. The washer and dryer were tucked side by side against one wall. Furnace and water heater were nestled nearby. She stepped further into the dark room, playing her light over the appliances and around the furnace.. “Clear.”
Finn was closing and locking the door to the garage. “It’s clear. Bedrooms upstairs?”
Nodding, Keira led the way to the stairway. But it didn’t take long for them to ascertain that the three bedrooms, baths and office on the second story were empty. Her pulse slowed to a steady rhythm. The place was deserted. She could almost feel that much in the stillness in the air. But if she’d been home thirty minutes earlier the intruder would have walked in on her. Had he planned on it being empty, or had he hoped to surprise her?
“Whatever he wanted, his focus was the kitchen. The water on the floor in the hallway?” Keira flipped on the light switch in the kitchen as she re-holstered her weapon. “You see it again here.”
“Melted from the snow on his boots. It’s in the bathroom, too.”
“He walked to the counter,”—she indicated his path with the flashlight’s beam— “and then continued to the refrigerator. If it was food he was looking for, he’s out of luck. I’ve been putting off grocery shopping.”
Finn put away his weapon and pulled on one of the gloves he’d stuffed in his coat pocket. Stepping toward the refrigerator, he opened the door wide for her observation. The contents were paltry. A nearly empty half-gallon of milk. A carton of eggs. A six pack of beer. A couple of containers of leftovers. All had been there that morning.
The plate on the second shelf had not.
Dread pooled nastily in her belly. “The dish is one of mine. But I didn’t put it there.” Her gaze went to the cupboards above the counter where the man had headed. The plate had been taken from there, a match to the set of stoneware her father had kept for as long as she could remember.
“Let’s see what he brought you this time.” Finn pulled on his thick winter glov
es before retrieving the plate and setting it on the counter. Keira awkwardly unwrapped the newspaper around the object, while avoiding touching the dish. She stilled when the item was uncovered. Then squelched the quick, violent lurch in her belly when she recognized it. A human ear.
“Jesus,” she muttered, hauling in a deep breath through clenched teeth. “I think I’ll request that lab.”
“I was about to recommend it.” He slid the plate around, crouched until he was eye level with it. “One thing I can tell you definitively without running any tests.” His gaze lifted to meet hers. “The victim was dead when it was severed. And it didn’t come from Danny.”
She gave a short nod. A mental loop of the images from her father’s crime scene replayed in her mind. “There were portions of each ear intact on his body.” This one was complete save for the lobe, which looked as though it had been partially cut away. “You’ll be able to run DNA tests on this and the finger.”
“Yes. Do you have a large Ziploc?”
Keira bent to take one out of a bottom drawer and opened it. He rewrapped the specimen, slid the plate with its contents inside and secured the bag. Then he looked at her. “It needs to be kept cool. I hate to ask…”
“Mi casa es su casa,” she said with dark humor. He opened her refrigerator and shoved aside the items on the top shelf to place the baggie and contents there. They’d be dusting the other shelf for prints, along with the counter, cupboards and refrigerator door. Keira had a sinking feeling they wouldn’t find any.
She needed to shove aside the rising certainty that their efforts would be in vain. Master criminals were largely a work of fiction. While she’d investigated several puzzling homicides for the CPD, more often crimes were committed impulsively and sloppily. Whoever had been here could have made a mistake.
Besides the one he’d made murdering her father.
Together they headed out of the kitchen. “Do you have an EDL? There’s a good chance we could lift footwear impressions from the areas beneath the broken window and the back door.”