The image of Amber Sloan sitting in the interview room flitted through Frankie’s mind. As much as he wanted to help the sad girl in the photo find her mother, he also wanted to make sure Amber Sloan wasn’t up to anything that could put Peyton in harm’s way.
“I think we should start at the beginning,” Hunter said, his deep voice cutting through Frankie’s worrisome thoughts. “I think we need to go to Montana and see where it all started.”
Frankie’s heart plummeted.
“You mean go up to where all those dead bodies are buried?”
He looked to Barker with pleading eyes.
“Aren’t there wolves and shit up there?”
But his partner wasn’t listening. Instead Barker was watching Hunter tap a number into his phone.
“Deputy Santino, it’s Hunter Hadley. I’ve got a favor to ask.”
Chapter Six
Hunter dropped his duffle bag next to the curb and checked to see that Gracie was still behind him. The Lab was a seasoned traveler, but they’d had a bumpy landing, and he wanted to make sure she was still holding up. As he bent to ruffle the dog’s soft white fur, a Chevy Tahoe pulled up behind him.
“You been waiting long?”
Deputy Vic Santino jumped out of the big vehicle and circled around to stand in front of Hunter. The U.S. marshal appeared to be dressed for cool weather with his lean figure bundled in black jeans and a sweater and his dark hair curling over the collar of a thick jacket. He regarded Hunter with a smile, revealing a row of even white teeth.
“I never thought I’d see you up in these parts again.”
Returning Santino’s smile, Hunter shook his head.
“Never say never, my friend. You’ll only tempt fate that way.”
A groan behind him caused Hunter to turn around. Frankie Dawson had exited the terminal. He held one hand over his stomach while the other hand clutched at the handle of a battered suitcase.
“Now I remember why I don’t like to fly,” Frankie muttered as he parked the suitcase next to Gracie. “I get air sick.”
Pete Barker appeared next to Frankie. He adjusted a lightweight backpack over his shoulder and caught sight of Santino, who nodded and removed his dark glasses.
“I’m Deputy Vic Santino with the U.S. Marshal Service.”
Barker held out a big hand.
“I’m Pete Barker, good to meet you.”
He rolled his eyes in Frankie’s direction.
“And that’s my partner Frankie Dawson. He and the airplane didn’t get along very well.”
“If that’s everyone,” Santino said, opening the back of the SUV for the luggage, “then let’s get this show on the road.”
Settling into the passenger seat of the Tahoe, Hunter gazed out the window at the scenery flashing by. He tried to picture the landscape as it had looked the last time he and Santino had driven through, but it had been the dead of winter then, and it was now alive with the colors of spring.
Local temperatures had been warming in the last few weeks and much of the snow had melted. As they sped through the foothills beneath snowcapped mountains, Hunter marveled at the new leaves sprouting from cottonwoods and willows.
Such a pretty place. Hard to imagine it hid such an ugly secret for so long.
The Tahoe made good time, and soon they were turning onto a narrow road leading through a dense cluster of trees. Hunter drew in his breath as they pulled up to a white gate draped with yellow crime scene tape.
Sitting upright in his seat, he felt his blood pulsing hard in his veins as he waited for Santino to jump out and push the gate open. His anxiety mounted as the Tahoe bumped along the drive, then stopped beside the big ranch house.
The compound looked different than Hunter had remembered. It was daylight for one thing, and the ground was almost clear of snow. Only a few icy patches remained on the hard-packed earth surrounding the hideout that Donovan Locke had used for more than two decades while he’d been on the run.
Looking past the fence toward the towering trees beyond, Hunter felt a chill ripple down his spine. Donovan Locke had died out there, as had the women Locke had chased down and killed.
If there really is such things as ghosts, surely they haunt that forest.
“We’ve had a few different teams out here,” Santino said as they all climbed out of the SUV. “The house itself has been searched and practically torn apart by an FBI special response team, and we’ve scoured the surrounding forest.”
Gracie jumped down and sniffed at the ground with interest, staying close to Hunter as Barker and Frankie joined them.
“We even brought in ground penetrating radar.” Santino’s voice was grim. “So far, we’ve recovered the remains of six bodies.”
“Where are the bodies now?”
Frankie’s eyes were wary as he looked around the courtyard.
“They’ve already been moved to Quantico,” Santino answered. “The FBI is leading the effort to identify the remains.”
“So, if you include Astrid Peterson and Skylar’s mother, Locke must have killed at least eight women here on his own property,” Hunter said, shaking his head in disgust. “And no telling how many women he killed while he was driving that big truck of his around the country.”
Looking toward the barn, Hunter frowned.
“What about Locke’s semi?”
“It’s been searched, photographed, tested, and dismantled,” Santino assured him. “Nothing but a heap of parts now.”
The sinking feeling that there was nothing left to do washed over Hunter. Everything had been searched and Skylar’s mother hadn’t been found. Had Locke lied about burying her on the grounds? Had they wasted a trip up to the ranch?
“Who owns this place now?” Barker asked, stretching his back and staring up at the house. “What’ll happen to it?’
“The U.S. Marshal Service has seized the property,” Santino said. “Standard practice with assets used for illegal purposes or acquired through illegal activity.”
Frankie stepped forward with an indignant expression.
“If this place belonged to Veronica and Skylar’s father, shouldn’t it go to them?” he asked. “I mean, the guy caused them a lot of suffering, you know. It doesn’t seem fair.”
Santino didn’t argue.
“All Locke’s victims deserve compensation,” he agreed. “Which is why proceeds from the sale could eventually be paid to those victims…or, at least to the victims we can identify.”
“And you say the FBI is already working on identifying the remains?” Hunter asked. “How long will that take?”
A woman’s voice sounded behind them before Santino had a chance to respond.
“We’re working on it as fast as we can, Mr. Hadley.”
Spinning around, Hunter saw Special Agent Charlie Day walking toward them. Her blonde, shoulder-length hair skimmed the shoulders of her navy-blue jacket, and her slim black jeans were tucked into the tops of sturdy work boots.
“Charlie?”
Hunter couldn’t keep the surprise and pleasure out of his voice. He’d worked with the seasoned FBI agent the previous fall, and she’d proven to be a determined and resourceful ally.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Is this your scene?”
A smile lit up Charlie’s light gray eyes as she nodded.
“Yes, I’m the lucky agent in charge.”
Her smile faltered as she met Hunter’s dark gaze.
“It’s good to see you again, Hunter,” she said softly. “I only wish it was under better circumstances.”
Looking at the other men, Charlie adopted a professional tone.
“Well, gentlemen. Let’s begin our tour.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Staring up through the hole in the floor, Hunter felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. The thought of being locked in the little room below ground for weeks or months on end was horrifying.
No wonder Skylar doesn’t want to talk about what she’s been through.
He climbed up the flimsy ladder on weak legs, suddenly feeling claustrophobic and desperate to get out. Charlie and the others waited for him at the top, and he struggled to hide the panic on his face as he emerged.
“Pretty scary down there, isn’t it?” she murmured.
Hunter nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“And that’s not the worst of it,” she said. “We believe Locke kept the women down there while he waited to ship them out. If they managed to escape, or if they made him mad, he would release them into the woods and hunt them down.”
“Is that where you found the bodies?” Barker asked, moving closer to look down into the hole in the floor. “In the woods?”
Trying to regain his composure, Hunter bent to stroke Gracie’s fur as Charlie responded. Her voice was crisp and professional, but Hunter detected a bitter edge to her words.
“All the women we found were shot to death and buried in the woods outside the fence,” she confirmed. “The bullets we recovered matched guns found inside the house.”
“And you don’t know who any of these women were?” Frankie asked. “I mean, somebody had to have been looking for them, right?”
Charlie hesitated as she met Frankie’s frustrated gaze.
“Actually, one of the women has been identified,” she finally said. “That’s why I was assigned to the case.”
A spark of hope lit in Hunter’s chest at the revelation. If they’d identified one of the women, a trail had been opened. There was no telling where it could lead.
“A girl I’d been looking for as part of another investigation was buried under a fir tree about twenty yards beyond the gate. She’d been shot in the head.”
The room fell silent as Charlie looked out the window, her eyes focusing on the bright blue sky beyond as she paused, seemingly lost in thought.
“That girl’s mother had been waiting for her daughter to come home for the last eight years,” Charlie finally said, no longer trying to hide the bitterness. “And all that time she’d been out there.”
Turning back to Frankie, she sighed.
“At least her mother finally knows what happened,” she said stiffly. “But she’ll be getting her daughter back in a box.”
An urge to get outside the confines of the house filled Hunter’s chest, and he led Gracie across the room.
“I’ll take Gracie out and let her do her business,” he said to the group, already moving toward the door.
The sun was just starting its descent toward the west when he stepped out into the courtyard and followed Gracie toward the back lawn. He turned his head at the sound of voices nearby.
Santino stood by the old barn talking in hushed tones to two men in standard issue FBI jackets and heavy black work boots. As the men climbed into a dusty SUV and drove toward the gate, Santino turned to Hunter and waved him over.
“We’d better get on the road pretty soon,” Santino said. “I don’t like being out here after dark. Too many bad memories.”
“I don’t blame you,” Hunter agreed, able to recall the night they’d confronted Donovan Locke in the forest nearby as if it’d been yesterday. “But I want to go out and see the dig site before…”
A sudden bark from Gracie stopped his words. Looking around, Hunter realized that the Lab had disappeared into the old barn. Another frantic bark led him through the old wooden doors.
The barn appeared to be empty. Only a few wooden planks, some oil stains, and a few bits of debris littered the floor.
“Gracie, what is it?” Hunter called out, following the dog to the far corner of the drafty barn.
Scratching the wooden floor under the old building’s back wall, Gracie barked again, looking back at Hunter with desperate eyes.
“What have you found, girl?” he asked, crouching beside her. “There’s nothing here.”
“We took everything out and even scanned the floor,” Santino said, coming up behind them. “I guarantee nothing’s under there.”
Hunter reached down to stroke Gracie’s fur, trying to calm her, but she drew back and kept barking.
“Gracie was trained as a cadaver dog by the military,” he told Santino. “And she’s never been wrong before…”
Both men looked at the barn wall and then at each other. Hunter leaned forward and felt the rough wood, his eyes searching for gaps.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked, his voice grim.
“Yep. I’ll get a crowbar.” Santino turned on his heels and jogged out the door. “Wait here.”
Minutes later he was back, and they were already prying a thick wooden board off the frame when Charlie appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “We heard the dog barking and…”
The sound of splintering wood drown out her next words. Hunter’s heart stopped as he saw that the board had been nailed over a narrow alcove in the wall. A patch of material was visible within.
Wrenching off another board, he blinked hard, not sure what he was seeing. The faded fabric of what appeared to be a woman’s coat lay in a heap on the ground. A glint of metal caught Hunter’s eye, and for a minute he couldn’t catch his breath.
A silver class ring lay on the ground beside the coat. Littered around the ring was a scattering of small white bones.
Charlie came up behind Hunter to peer over his shoulder. With a sudden intake of breath, she dropped a hand on his arm and attempted to pull him back from the grisly sight.
“Get Gracie out of here,” she instructed in a curt tone, gesturing toward the still-barking Lab. “Take her outside and calm her down.”
Wrenching his eyes away from the remains of the woman inside the wall, Hunter saw Barker and Frankie gaping into the hidden compartment with wide eyes.
Santino held out an arm to keep them from stepping closer.
“All of you move back out of the barn so we don’t contaminate the scene,” Charlie ordered, pulling out her cell phone. “I need to get my team back here.”
But Hunter didn’t move. His eyes were glued to the board he’d pried off and thrown to the ground. A shiver ran through him as he whispered the word that had been scratched into the wood.
“Skylar.”
Chapter Seven
The petunias had blossomed overnight, producing delicate pink buds that filled Skylar with delight as she knelt in front of the wide flower bed. She’d been amazed that spring had come so early to South Florida. Captivated by the tropical colors and intoxicating scents around her, she found herself wondering if the ranch still had patches of ice melting on the ground.
After she’d moved into the house on Marigold Lane, Skylar had started spending most of her time in Ling Lee’s big backyard. It was the one place she felt completely safe, and she found that gardening kept her mind and hands busy.
Moving on to the vegetable patch, Skylar bent to pull a few weeds, then jumped back in surprise as a sleek black snake slithered past her hand. She watched the unwelcome intruder disappear under a hedge, then looked back to where Winston was sunning himself on the porch.
“Are you going to let him get away like that?” she called to the big tabby cat. “Don’t you want to protect your territory…or me?”
But the cat was too comfortable to be lured away from his warm spot on the porch. Blinking his golden eyes in blatant disinterest, Winston opened his mouth in a wide yawn, then looked away.
Turning back to the vegetable patch with a smile, Skylar began to pull the weeds from the soil, already planning the fresh salad she’d make for Ling and Veronica that evening.
She knew how busy Ling had been lately as she prepared to take on her new role as mayor, but the older woman had never made Skylar feel like a burden. In fact, both she and Veronica had gone out of their way to make Skylar feel comfortable and welcomed.
For the first time in her life, Skylar felt as if she had a real home. She knew it may not last, that eventually Ling or Veronica might ask her to leave, but she couldn’t
let herself think about that now.
She’d lived in fear her whole life, much of which was spent underground in Donovan Locke’s safe room, and now that she was free, she wasn’t sure what lay ahead for her.
Everything in the world outside the ranch was still so new and so very different. So many new faces and new experiences. So many memories that still haunted her.
Maybe for now it was enough just to be away from the man she’d always known only as the Professor, and to have Veronica and Ling Lee as her new family.
“You really do have a green thumb, Skylar.”
Twisting around in surprise, Skylar saw Hunter Hadley standing on the back porch. His light-hearted words conflicted with the tense expression on his handsome face.
“I thought you were away on a business trip until tomorrow.”
Skylar stood and dusted off her hands.
“Is everything okay?”
Hunter dropped his eyes, and Skylar felt a ripple of unease roll through her as Veronica stepped through the back door to join him on the porch.
“Ronnie, what are you doing home from work already?”
The sight of Gracie trotting out behind her sister diverted Skylar’s attention. She crossed to the porch and sunk onto the top step, careful not to crowd Winston.
Reaching out a hand to scratch the fur behind Gracie’s ears, Skylar made room for Veronica next to her.
“We wanted to talk to you as soon as possible,” Veronica said, her solemn tone adding to Skylar’s unease.
Settling onto the step beside Veronica, Hunter leaned forward. Pain, or maybe it was pity, seemed to darken his eyes.
“I need to tell you what I found out on my trip,” Hunter said softly. “I’m not sure if you knew where I was going…”
“You went to the ranch, didn’t you?”
Skylar pulled Gracie’s soft body closer. Something about the Lab’s presence calmed her. She always felt safer when the dog was nearby.
“Yes, I went to the ranch to meet with Deputy Santino.”
Hunter cleared his throat, and Skylar saw Veronica squeeze his hand in encouragement. She thought she knew what he was about to say, but his words still stabbed through her like a knife.
Her Silent Spring Page 5