Chapter 19
Nineteen
A shiver crawled up Margot’s spine.
This place was eerie.
She stared out the car window at the farmhouse they’d rolled up to. Backlit by the setting winter sun, the shadows only intensified the grime coating the once-white clapboard siding. Leafless vines crawled up the latticework around the base of the porch on the left side. It twined over the railing to climb the square posts holding up the porch roof and speared the tongue-and-groove ceiling, disappearing beneath the wood.
Behind the overgrown beautyberry shrubs, boards covered several broken panes in the front windows, giving the front of the house a patchwork look, though much less friendly and comforting than a quilt. A rusted, gray pickup sat in the gravel drive beside the house. It listed to the right, the rear tire flat.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say no one’s home.” Max peered through the windshield. He cut the engine. “Let’s take a look around.”
The overhead light came on as he opened his door. Margot tugged on her doorhandle and got out.
Strands of her hair whipped over her eyes, and she snagged them with a finger, tucking the lock behind an ear. At least the breeze here was warmer. She’d packed her heavy parka away and donned a thick sweater. Texas was much more favorable than North Dakota for her tropical blood.
But a chill still crept through her.
Folding her arms over her chest, she followed Max up the driveway. They walked along the house, peering through grimy windows. The time of day made it difficult to see inside. Vague shapes filled the room. Margot squinted, making out a couch and a small table, but little else.
“I wish we could go inside.” She cupped her hands around her eyes, leaning forward until less than an inch separated her skin from the window.
“Me too. But we don’t need to give Gallagher even more reason to be suspicious. Your alibi for Tad’s death is strong, but we all know killers can be hired.”
Margot frowned and dropped her hands. When she turned, he had his phone out. The low ring of a call going through filled the air as he put it on speaker. “Who are you calling?” she asked.
“Asher.”
The ringing stopped.
“Hello?” Asher’s deep voice joined the rush of the wind.
“Hey, we’re at the address I sent you. Did you find out anything about this place?” Max glanced up at the house. Their shoes crunched on the gravel drive as they wandered away from it and toward the outbuildings.
“I did. Property records show a Dale and Marie Conroy on the deed. I ran a search on them. Marie died about five years ago, but Dale’s still alive. His driver’s license shows that address.”
“Really?” Max gave the house a skeptical look. “This place is pretty rundown. I can’t imagine anyone living here.”
“It’s possible he moved out and didn’t update his license. It’s a couple of years old.”
“They have any kids?” Margot asked.
“A son. He lives in St. Louis. So, I guess it’s possible he’s living up there.”
“Okay,” Max said. “We’ll poke around here a little more. See if there’s anything to point us to why Tad found this place important enough to put a map to it in a safe deposit box.”
“Sounds good. If you need anything, call.”
“You know it. Thanks, Asher.”
“Yep. Talk to you soon.”
“Bye.” Max hung up.
Margot huffed. “This is bizarre. Who the heck is Dale Conroy? And how did Tad know him?”
“I don’t know.” Max put a hand on her back. “Come on. Let’s check out the barn and shed.”
Golden prairie grass whispered against their pant legs as they crossed the yard. She was glad it was winter. Most rattlesnakes would be holed up somewhere by now. They could come out on warmer days like today, but she’d expect to see them on rocks and not hiding in the tall grass where the sun couldn’t reach them.
“I feel like if I imitated the Big Bad Wolf, I could huff and puff and blow this barn down,” Max remarked as they approached the dilapidated structure.
Margot agreed. The building had definitely seen better days. Barely any red paint remained on the weathered wood siding—what was left of it. In several places, she could see through the barn all the way to the other side, and part of the roof had caved in toward the back. The rest looked ready to go. Even if they’d wanted to go inside, she wouldn’t.
Stiff weed stems cracked under their feet as they moved closer. Like near the porch, beautyberry bushes grew wild, towering overhead. Margot studied the ones along the side of the barn. She couldn’t help but wonder if they were holding the wall up.
They got as close as they dared, peeking through the gaps in the siding to see inside.
“We should have brought a flashlight.” Margot squinted into the dim interior. Only the hulking skeletons of old machinery were visible in the waning light.
“Too conspicuous. Besides, I wasn’t sure we’d even get this close.” He glanced down, watching his footing as he found a path through the heavy brush toward an open door. “I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not that this place is abandoned.” He stepped up to the door.
“Max!” Margot hissed. “Don’t go in there.”
“I’m not. Just trying to get a better look.”
She huffed a breath through her nostrils, praying there was no sudden gust of wind while he stood so close.
Turning, she walked along the exterior; looking for what, she didn’t know. Nothing seemed out of place. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t expect to see at an abandoned country property. It was all falling down buildings and worn-out equipment. And weeds. Lots and lots of weeds.
The crunch of vegetation behind her told her Max had abandoned his desire to look in the barn and was catching up. Together, they headed for the shed.
It was in better shape. Probably because it looked like it was close to a hundred years newer. If she had to guess from the weathering on the steel siding and the dirty double-paned aluminum-framed windows, she’d say the shed was a decade or so old.
“That’s weird.”
“What is?” Margot glanced up. Max’s gaze was fixed at a point beyond the shed.
“Nothing, really. It’s just—” He paused and cocked his head. “The grass is darker.” Gaze still fixed on that point, he walked away.
“Max?” She stared after him for a moment, bewildered, then followed.
“Look at the vegetation. All around us, it’s nothing but golden prairie grass. But back here…” His words trailed off as he stopped, staring at the ground.
Margot reached his side.
“Look.” He extended a hand. “It’s different. Greener.”
Glancing down, her frown intensified. He was right. The prairie grass had gone dormant all around them.
Except here. There was still green in it.
“That’s strange. Maybe there was something sitting here. A pile of fertilizer or something.” She walked forward several feet, following the greener grass. Lifting a foot, she waved it through the vegetation.
A glint of something pale caught her eye. The sun was rapidly falling behind the trees, and in the thick vegetation, it was difficult to see what hid in its depths.
Margot pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight, doubting anyone would see. She hadn’t seen or heard a car in twenty minutes.
Her breath stalled in her lungs as the light illuminated the ground. A strangled shriek of surprise worked its way free, but her feet refused to move. So did her eyes. They were stuck on the sight before her.
“Margot?”
Max’s voice removed the lock on her muscles. She stumbled back, inhaling a gulp of air. Extending a finger on the hand holding her phone, she pointed at the ground.
“It’s—” Stopping, she clenched her teeth, the words sticking in her throat.
Swallowing hard, she tried again. “It’s—look.”
He frowned down at her for a moment before his gaze swung in the direction of her light.
She knew the moment he saw what she did. His eyes went wide and some of the color leached from his face.
Shining in the light from her phone, the hollowed eyes of a human skull stared back at them.
Max ran a hand down his face. “Fuck.”