Secrets at Cedar Cabin

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Secrets at Cedar Cabin Page 12

by Colleen Coble


  Lance ended the call and faced Daniel. “Jackson’s dead. Shot.”

  Daniel rubbed the back of his neck. “Man, Lance, that’s not good.”

  “I’m not giving up. Jackson had plenty of snakes working for him. One of them has to lead me to Ava.” But for all his bravado, he felt his grip on hope slip down a rung.

  It was nearly noon, and Bailey sat on the sofa in the living room while the tiny cabin buzzed with activity around her. Forensic techs and FBI agents swarmed the property to take fingerprint samples, look for blood spots in the house and on the property, and to question her. She’d answered the same questions over and over, but the suspicion hadn’t left anyone’s eyes.

  And Lance had asked a zillion questions about her relationship with Kyle before leaving for the night. He’d come back this morning with a search warrant for the FBI to go over the entire property.

  Her inclination was to get in her car and disappear, but that would appear even more suspicious. But was it even safe to stay? What if the killer came back?

  Lance gestured for the remaining two techs to exit the cabin. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  She eyed him. His tone was entirely too placating after the way he’d grilled her earlier. The sun glinted through the window to stab her in the eyes. She shaded her face with her hand and waited for the next question.

  “I think we’re about done here.”

  “I can clean up?”

  They’d gone through dressers, boxes in the closets, the stuff in the loft, and of course every square inch of the cellar space in the shed where the bodies were recovered. Her eyes burned at the memory of those body bags being carried off. Those poor girls.

  “It’s fine to clean up once everyone leaves. Sorry about the mess.”

  “I can clean it.” At least he apologized.

  Unexpectedly, her eyes filled and she looked away. Right now she wanted her mother and her house. She wanted the familiarity of her job and the sweet elderly people she loved so much. While the ocean scenery here took her breath away, it didn’t compete with the wintery wonderland on the south shore of Lake Superior. People loved her back home. If anyone noticed her here, it was only to raise a brow her direction and pepper her with accusations.

  She rose and went to stand at the window facing the front yard, where SUVs, cars, and trucks crammed the drive and lined the road. Her throat was a hot mess, and she blinked fiercely. She would not demean herself by crying. She was twenty-four, not two.

  There was no one she could rely on right now. For the umpteenth time she mourned the fact she had no real family beyond her mother. It had been lonely growing up, but it was even worse now that she was an adult. If only her mother had opened up about extended family, she might have gotten to know her grandmother before she became lost to dementia. And her dad. Who was he? Her mother always refused to tell her, and her birth certificate listed him as unknown.

  A warm hand settled on her shoulder, and Lance’s low voice said, “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She gulped back the wobble in her voice. “I-It’s just a little overwhelming. Do you know who the girls are?”

  “We’ve identified one of them and the other’s identity should come soon.”

  “Was it a kidnapping?”

  “Probably sex trafficking.” His words came out hard and bitter.

  She turned around. His dark jeans and polo shirt hugged his muscles, and he reminded her of Ian Anthony Dale from Hawaii Five-O with his dark good looks. She guessed him to be in his mid- to late twenties.

  “How’d you end up joining the FBI?” After she blurted out the words, she put her hand to her mouth. “Sorry, that was much too personal a question, especially when we’ve just met.” Though he didn’t feel like a stranger to her, and that feeling made his lie about his identity still sting.

  He moved to the coffeepot and poured two cups, then handed her one. “I like you, Bailey. I like your honesty, and I’m really sorry I lied to you. Those girls were the reason though.” Although he smiled, his eyes remained sad. “My sister has been missing for five years, and everywhere I go, I search for her. I cringe at the thought of finding her in a brothel, forced to work for some subhuman pimp. Or even worse, lying dead in some outbuilding.”

  He shook his head. “Look at me talking about this. I never discuss it. Most of my coworkers have no idea what drives me to find these animals who prey on kids. My partner and my boss know, but that’s about it.”

  Her chest squeezed at the tragedy he dealt with. “Five years! I’m so sorry, Lance. That has to be hard.”

  His jaw clenched but his gaze continued to hold hers. “Hard doesn’t begin to cover it. It’s all-consuming. I have to find her.”

  “Do you know how she was taken?”

  His jaw hardened. “She’d been corresponding with a guy online. Ava said he was her age, but I suspected he was older. The whole family had a fight about it, and Ava sneaked off to meet him after being told she couldn’t go out. We never saw her again and later found out the guy was a known pimp. It changed our family. Our parents ended up fighting over whose fault it was and a year later they had divorced.”

  “So you joined the FBI to find her?”

  He nodded. “I finished college in three years with a degree in criminal justice. With my dad’s connections, I snagged an FBI internship my last summer. Mom is Cambodian and I speak fluent Khmer as well as Japanese and Chinese. My language ability helped me get a position with the Bureau. But I still haven’t found Ava.”

  “Thank you for telling me. I forgive you for lying to me.”

  The smile reached his eyes this time. “I’m glad. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m pretty handy with a saw and a drill though. I plan to finish the job I started here. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to camp out in the yard. The Rock Harbor sheriff told me about your attack. I don’t like the idea of you being out here in such a remote location. I sent him a text and told him we were looking out for you.”

  She hadn’t wanted to think about the attack. “Does he have any idea why Mom was murdered or what the killer wanted?”

  “Not yet. He’s concerned though, and so am I.”

  “No one knows where I went. Not even Kyle.”

  “Are you sure? What if he wanted to force you to come here? For all we know he could have killed your mother, then arranged the attack so you’d run. Where else would you go except here?”

  A wave of dizziness struck her. She pressed her hand against her forehead. “I should talk to Kyle.”

  “He’s performing in Seattle on Friday. I plan to pay him a visit.”

  She put her hand on the hard ridge of muscles on his forearm. “I could arrange to see him if you want.”

  His dark eyes studied her. “It could be dangerous. Let me think about it.”

  “That’s my life right now. The danger won’t go away until we figure out who’s behind this and why.”

  The dream of a normal life working with the elderly might come her way yet. She had to try.

  “I’ll think about it,” was all Lance said.

  Chapter 18

  The scent of decaying vegetation and fallen leaves lay heavy in the air. The glowering sky spit out a few sprinkles, and Lance zipped up his jacket and faced the wind. The rest of the team had departed, and he walked through the knee-high grasses and weeds in the acreage behind the cabin with Daniel.

  What had possessed him to tell Bailey about Ava? That showed too much weakness on his part. He couldn’t afford to let personal situations have a bearing on his work. Not cool.

  Daniel whistled through his teeth. “Take a look here.” He pointed out drag marks in the grass from the shed down to the pier. “Those girls might have already been dead when they were stashed in the shed. We already know the traffickers smuggle the girls in by boat. This could be their landing spot.”

  Lance knelt and examined the evidence. “This depression could’ve been made from heels being dragged along.”
<
br />   “Yeah. The girls could have died on board the boat or tried to escape and were killed. When the traffickers found them dead, they just may have decided to park them here until they figured out what to do. This place has been used a lot. You can tell by the evidence in the bedroom we found last year.”

  “They probably won’t be back once news gets out that we found the bodies. They’ll know we’re watching the place. So we need to gather as much evidence as we can now. I don’t think there will be more.”

  Not really sure what he was hoping to find, Lance wandered over the area again. This time he concentrated on a different section. It appeared to be a simple wooded lot with a small stream running through it. What had made this property so appealing to the traffickers? Its seclusion maybe? A recent heavy rain had left the ground soft, and he saw where animals had been digging near the base of a fallen tree. Mushrooms sprouted in the roots that had been torn from the ground.

  Wait a minute, those weren’t mushrooms. Upon closer examination he whistled for Daniel. “Call the team. We have another body.”

  The bones of a hand gleamed white through the tangle of roots. This person had been dead a long time from the look of the bones. They’d have to call in a forensic team to recover the remains. If not for the rotten tree falling, the victim’s fate wouldn’t have been known, even now.

  Daniel knelt beside him, and they fell silent for a moment of respect.

  “Old bones,” Daniel said. “Completely skeletonized.”

  “Yeah.” Lance studied the tangle of vegetation and tree roots again. “Check out the cranium.” He took out his flashlight and shone it into the shadows where he’d found the head. “Bullet hole through the forehead.”

  “Female?”

  “Wish I knew.” Lance rose and went over to the other side of the tree to see if any other bones lay exposed.

  From this angle he saw a gleam of metal on a finger. He needed to wait for the techs to get here, but he stepped a bit closer and trained the flashlight on it. “Looks like a ring here, Daniel.” He pulled out his phone and took a picture. Though dirt marred the ring, he saw what appeared to be a Corvette emblem with a honking big diamond in it. “This ring might help identify him.”

  “Oh, it’s a him now?”

  “Male ring, so yeah, I’m taking a stab at that one.” Lance grinned at his partner. “Makes you wonder what this place is all about. This murder is maybe decades old, and we find two new bodies today. It’s like the place has been used for evil for a long time.”

  “We need to find out who originally owned this property, examine its history.”

  “What’s going on out here?” Bailey’s voice came from their left.

  Lance moved to block her view as several agents scurried their way. “We’ve got another body—one that’s been here awhile.”

  Her green eyes went wide. “How long?”

  “Don’t know yet. This one appears to be male though.”

  She clasped her arms around herself. “This place. I don’t even know what to say about it. It’s creepy.”

  “It’s definitely seen its share of violence.”

  “Listen, can I talk to you?” She glanced over at Daniel. “In private.”

  Lance exchanged a glance with his partner. “Sure. Want to go inside? I could use some coffee.”

  She nodded, and he followed her across the soft ground to the back of the cabin. Avoiding the rotting boards, they went in the back door, and he smelled coffee as soon as he entered. She poured them both a cup of coffee, then handed him his and gestured to the sofa.

  He cradled the mug in his cold hands and perched on the edge of the cushion. “What’s wrong?”

  “I haven’t known what to make of all this, but there might be a connection between my mom and everything that’s going on.”

  “You think your mom’s murder is related?”

  She flinched. “Maybe. I just found out she grew up here.”

  “I thought your bogus husband gave you this house.”

  “He did, which makes everything even more bizarre. You’ve met Lily. I found out on Saturday that s-she’s my grandmother.”

  Not much ever surprised Lance, but at this revelation, he gaped before he recovered his composure. He listened as she told him about finding photo albums. “You’ve never been here?”

  “I found pictures of me as a baby but nothing beyond that. I have no memory of ever visiting. My mom told me my grandparents were dead, that all my family was dead. She never brought me on any of the trips when she came to check on Lily.”

  “It was as if she was trying to protect you from this place.”

  She nodded. “I don’t know what it all means, but I thought you should have that information. I’m going to the school tomorrow to review yearbooks.”

  He took a gulp of coffee. “Thanks. I’ll see what I can find out about Lily.”

  “I hired a private investigator to look into it too.”

  “Save your money. I’ll get to the bottom of it. Let’s start at the school.”

  The old high school was a stone building with Victorian touches. Bailey felt an instant connection to it. What would her life have been like if she’d grown up here?

  She put her hand on the door handle of Lance’s truck. “Thanks for coming with me.” He’d been quick to offer yesterday when she told him her plan.

  He looked devastatingly handsome in the royal-blue shirt he wore. “I can’t really let you go wandering around by yourself. There’s already been one attempt on your life.”

  “I get it. Everywhere I go I see death. The cabin had seemed so sweet and welcoming when I first arrived, but now I want to run far, far away.”

  Lance opened his door. “I’m not sure perusing yearbooks will get us anywhere.”

  She shoved open her door and got out. “There has to be some connection between my mom and this place. Her history here seems the logical place to look.”

  He didn’t answer, and they checked in at the office to be directed to the library. The place smelled like every high school she’d attended: floor wax, kids, and gym. The odors smelled like loneliness. She and Mom had moved around so much Bailey hadn’t made many friends, and she’d walked many a hall by herself.

  Nondescript brown carpet covered the library floor, and tables held students studying while others perused the library shelves. The librarian, an attractive brunette with bright-red lipstick, directed them to the shelf of yearbooks dating back fifty years. If her mother was really born in 1969, then her senior year would have been 1985 or 1986. She pulled out three yearbooks from 1984 to 1986 and handed one to Lance. They carried them to an empty table in the corner, and she opened the 1985 one. Before she went to the Clubs and Activities sections, she looked at the class pictures and spotted her mother on the third page.

  “Here she is. She’s a junior.” She rotated the book around to show Lance her mother’s smiling face under an enormous cloud of hair.

  “Wow, big-hair era. Olivia Norman was hot.”

  “She still was when she died. She didn’t look fifty, and she always took care of herself.”

  “Did she date at all?”

  “Not once she was widowed when I was five. Men stared at her a lot though. She claimed all she needed was me.” Bailey’s throat tightened, and she blinked at the sting in her eyes. “I want to see what clubs and activities she participated in. Maybe I can track down a friend or two.”

  She flipped back to that section and began to look at every picture. “Here she is on the student counsel, so she must have been fairly active in school. And well known.”

  He pointed out another picture. “Smart too. She was in the National Honor Society.”

  She jabbed a finger at a man beside her. “Isn’t that the mayor? Thomas Weaver?”

  “I haven’t met him.”

  “Oh right. Because you’re not really a neighbor.” All the feelings of camaraderie and working toward the same goal washed away. “I’m sure it’s him. We
could talk to him about Mom and what he remembers about her. He might know who her best friends were.”

  “The mayor’s office is down the block. We could go there when we leave here.”

  The woman who had directed them to the yearbooks moved their direction, and Bailey realized she wasn’t watching how loud her voice was. She sent her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we’ll be quiet.”

  “No, that’s okay. I heard you mention Olivia Norman and that you wanted to know about friends of hers. She was my best friend in high school, and we still get together for coffee whenever she comes back to see her mom. I can give you her number.” The woman held out her hand. “Kim Johnson.”

  Bailey’s stomach dropped to her toes. She would have to tell this sweet-faced woman with soft brown eyes that her best friend was dead. “I’m Bailey, Olivia’s daughter.”

  Kim’s smile widened. “I should have recognized you. I’ve seen a thousand pictures, but maybe not so many since you’re all grown. And the purple hair distracted me. Is your mom here with you?”

  Bailey’s mouth went dry, and she shook her head. “S-She was killed, Kim. Shot. About two weeks ago.”

  The color leached from Kim’s face, and she grabbed the back of a chair for support. Lance leaped up and eased her onto the seat. “Put your head between your legs.” He pushed Kim’s head down, and she didn’t resist.

  After a few moments, she raised her head. “I-I don’t know what to say, Bailey. I loved your mother very much. Was it one of your stepbrothers who shot her?”

  “What? No. Why would you think that? We haven’t seen them in ages. They basically vanished from our lives when their dad died.”

  Kim pursed her red lips. “That’s what your mom told you?”

  Bailey wanted to say she knew more about her stepbrothers than this stranger, but she was beginning to realize she didn’t know her own mother nearly as well as she thought she had. “We never saw them or heard from them very often over the past few years.”

 

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