Chapter 14
Entering the garage, she smells it first—a sharp, raw tang, metallic and sickly sweet—even before she spots the trail of rusty droplets on the floor. The odor, both familiar and shocking, sets the blood roaring in her ears. She lowers the grocery bags to the ground and reaches for her gun.
Where is Satchel? He ran inside ahead of her, but as she enters the house, she hears nothing but the muffled strains of “Frosty the Snowman.” The kitchen is oddly dim, filled with a mist that grows thicker as she presses forward, until she finds that she is swimming through cold, turbid water. Ghostly shapes emerge like shipwrecks out of the gloom. Refrigerator. Stove. Table. As she drifts past, they melt back into darkness.
Nothing has any substance except the gun, which feels heavy and solid in her hand. She thinks it is moving of its own accord, pulling her deeper into the house. At the living room door, it stops. The metallic smell is stronger here. She tastes it in the back of her throat. A thing, unseen and horrible, waits in the water—a thing she doesn’t want to find but must search for, nevertheless. In the darkness, something slimy brushes her calf. Two shadowy forms rise slowly from the deep, wreathed in a haze of red. As she stares, they tilt up their faces, bloated and fish-belly white, and fix their hollow eyes on hers. Their mouths move soundlessly as they ascend ...
“Oh God, oh God.” Colly lurched upright in bed, breathing hard. A faint gray light glimmered through the curtains. Something touched her shoulder. Satchel sat beside her, blinking sleepily. A smudge of dried blood had crusted on his lower lip where he’d chewed it during the night.
“You were screaming, Grandma.”
“Sorry. Bad dream.”
Colly pulled him onto her lap. The seat of his pajamas was damp.
“I had an accident.” He pressed his face into her chest.
“It’s okay, baby.” Colly closed her eyes and rubbed his back as she tried to shake off the lingering terror of the nightmare. It was months since she’d had the dream, which never varied and which had haunted her with a sickening persistence for over a year after Randy and Victoria’s deaths. In Houston, she’d burn off the emotional aftermath on her stationary bike—but that wasn’t an option here. Finish this case, and you can go home , she told herself. Perhaps solving it would banish the nightmares for good.
Opening her eyes, Colly glanced at the clock and groaned. She’d slept through her alarm—unsurprising, since it had been three a.m. when they’d finally climbed into bed. The discovery of the dead snake the night before had created a lengthy delay, necessitating a call to Earla Cobb. Arriving at midnight, frowsy-headed and wearing what appeared to be a pair of men’s pajamas beneath her coveralls, she crawled through Brenda’s van, examining it as best she could in the dark and bagging what bits of evidence she could find, but she held out little hope of fingerprints or DNA.
“Our perp’s a careful bastard.” She wiped her forehead with her sleeve. “I don’t like this, Russ. Stinks of crazy.”
“How so?”
“What’s the best way to kill a rattler?”
“Chop its head off.”
“Exactly. Everyone in West Texas knows that. But this one’s spine’s been snapped like a pretzel stick.” She mimed the action with her hands. “Ain’t practical—or safe.”
“Think we’re looking for someone who’s not from around here?”
Earla scratched her ear. “Only a local could find this place. Anyhow, ain’t just the snake. There’s somethin’ about the whole scene. I think the SOB fantasized about this, down to the smallest detail. I’m gettin’ a real serial-killer vibe.”
Colly felt the gooseflesh rise on her arms as a quick, clear image flashed into her mind—the rabbit mask staring up at her with its demented, hollow eyes.
Russ turned to her. “What d’you think?”
“It does seem pointlessly elaborate. Almost stage-managed.”
Earla nodded. “This fella’s a couple sandwiches shy of a picnic, if you ask me.” She tapped her temple.
“Or wants us to think so,” Colly said.
Earla grunted absently. “I wanna reexamine everything in daylight. Got anyone who can keep the scene secure till morning?”
Colly looked at Russ. “What about Avery?”
He shook his head. “She’s too involved in the case.”
In the end, he called Jimmy Meggs, and it was almost two o’clock when the young officer arrived, bright-eyed but in dire need of a shave. Russ gave him detailed instructions and then drove Colly, Brenda, and the children back to Brenda’s house, where Colly’s car was parked.
“I’m following you to the farmhouse,” he said. “I want to check things out. If this perp knew where you’d be eating dinner tonight, he must know where you’re staying.”
Even after they cleared the place and Colly shooed Russ away, insisting that she didn’t need him to spend the night on the sofa, sleep did not come easily. For once she’d been glad to have Satchel’s warm little body beside her as she dozed fitfully through what remained of the night.
Now, leaning against the headboard with Satchel in her arms, Colly felt herself drifting off again. She jerked awake with effort.
“Come on, Satch, let’s get you cleaned up.” She ruffled his hair. “We’re late.”
Forty minutes later, Colly pushed through the police station door, a Starbucks coffee in each hand. In no mood for small talk, she hurried past the elderly office manager and down the hall to Russ’s office, pausing for a moment in the open doorway. Her brother-in-law sat hunched over his laptop, staring intently at the screen. He looked tired, she thought, his face slack and wan, with dark rings under his eyes and a day’s worth of stubble on his chin.
He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he jumped when she sat down in the chair facing him.
“I didn’t figure you’d be in till later.” He pushed the laptop aside.
“Had to take Satchel to school. Might as well get to work.” Colly slid one of the paper cups across the desk. “Black with two sugars, right?”
Russ smiled wearily and scratched his stubbled jaw. “Thanks. Get any sleep?”
“More than you, by the looks of it.”
“How’s Satchel?”
“Not great. He didn’t need to see me covered in blood.” She shook her head. “I hope bringing him here wasn’t a mistake. The therapist thought he’d have separation anxiety if I didn’t.”
“Kids are resilient.” Russ pried the plastic lid from his coffee cup and blew on the steaming liquid. “Alice adapted better than me after Wanda died.”
“I just hope his flashbacks don’t start again.” Colly looked around. “Where’s Avery?”
“She texted she’d be late—said she’s running down a lead.”
“What lead?”
“Beats me. I figured it was something you told her to do.”
“Damn kid,” Colly muttered. “Any news from Earla?”
“Nothing yet.” Russ sipped his coffee. “She’s at the ranch now, going back over things. Thought I’d head up in a while, see how it’s going. I told Felix to give her access to the security footage. Wish I’d thought of it earlier.”
“Since when does the ranch have cameras?”
“I talked Momma into it after what happened to Denny. System’s only been up a few weeks, so it slipped my mind last night.” He began to turn the coffee cup slowly in his fingers. “You, uh—you okay?”
“I’ve been called a murdering bitch before—though never so creatively, I’ll admit.”
“Don’t make fun, Col. This wasn’t some idiot tossing a brick through a window. If there’s a homicidal maniac—”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t know that Denny’s killer did this.”
Russ stared. “Who else could it have been?”
“Think about it. The Rangers closed Denny’s case. Most people believe Willis killed him—and Willis is dead. If the real murderer’s out there, he’d want to lay low and hope our review flatlines, not build some elaborate booby trap to stir up suspicion.”
“Unless he’s panicking because you’re here. Or he’s just crazy.”
Colly hesitated. “Various people might have reasons for wanting to scare me off.”
Russ frowned. “Got someone in mind?”
“You said yourself Lowell’s upset I’m investigating.”
“Lowell?” Russ looked shocked.
“He knew where I was last night, and he had plenty of opportunity.”
“Are you saying you think Lowell murdered Denny Knox?”
“I’m saying he has motive to plant that snake—I don’t know why. Until you give me an explanation, I’m bound to think the worst.”
“Lowell would never scare his own kids like that. He knew they’d be in the car.”
Colly studied his face. Once again, he’d dodged the subject of his fight with Lowell. But she could tell by the set of his jawline that it was useless to press the issue now.
“He said Iris is driving the company into the ground. What did he mean?”
“Nothing. He was drunk.”
“Seemed like more than that.”
Russ smiled tiredly. “He and Momma disagree on how to run things. Lowell’s like Dad, wants to cut costs to maximize profits. Momma likes to put money back into the business. They’ve been butting heads about it since Dad died.”
“Then why—”
“C’mon, Col, I’m too exhausted for family crap. New subject. Please .” Russ drained his cup and set it down with finality.
Colly laughed. “Sometimes you’re so much like Randy that it’s scary.” She settled back in her chair. “Tell me about the fireworks stand, then. Did Earla find anything yesterday? I didn’t get a chance to ask you last night.”
Russ brightened immediately. He told her that Earla had bagged a few cigarette butts in her search of the area. They were probably unconnected to the case, but they’d been sent for testing. The more exciting news pertained to the mysterious set of footprints identified at the scene. Earla thought they’d been left by a pair of rubber boots or possibly waders—men’s size ten.
Colly exhaled sharply. “The same as the ones around Denny’s body?”
“Maybe. We’re not sure.”
“Still, it’s interesting.” Colly brushed back an unruly strand of hair. “What about Tom Gunnell? Get anything from him?”
“Not much.” The mechanic had told Russ that, following Colly and Avery’s visit, he’d been under a truck in the repair bay all afternoon. He’d had no idea anything was going on at the fireworks stand till he heard Earla’s motorcycle arrive. He’d come out to look because, as he put it, the engine sounded interesting, and he’d been startled to see all the activity up the road.
“He seemed on the up and up,” Russ said. “No motive to lie.”
“Unless he took the baseball cap himself.”
Russ shrugged. “The girl at the desk backed his story.” There were no security cameras at Digby’s, so their statements couldn’t be verified. But both said they’d be willing to take polygraphs. “Besides,” Russ added, “Tom’s got huge feet—size thirteen, at least.”
Colly sighed. “They didn’t notice anyone loitering in the area? A customer, maybe?”
Russ shook his head. It had been a slow afternoon at the shop. Both Gunnell and the desk clerk had heard vehicles passing on the road, but since that was normal, they hadn’t paid much attention.
“Somebody had to see us find that cap, Russ. How else could it vanish?” Colly considered. “What about the salvage yard next door? Maybe someone was watching from there.”
“It was closed yesterday. A couple pit bulls guard it, according to Tom. Both him and the office girl swear they would’ve heard them bark if there were trespassers. And before you ask—no, it doesn’t have a surveillance system, either.”
“Jeez. This is modern times.”
“Not in West Texas.” Russ grinned. “But we’re not all stuck in the Dark Ages. Check this out. I was looking at it when you came in.” He swiveled the laptop towards Colly. She put on her reading glasses. On the screen was a grainy black-and-white image of an empty road in front of a squat brick building that Colly recognized as the Compass Counseling Center.
She looked up. “What’s this?”
“Composite security footage the Rangers put together—all the sightings of Denny Knox on the day he disappeared. I was reading Avery’s report on your interviews yesterday, and I got to thinking—”
“She sent you a report?”
“Check your email—she copied you in. Anyway, watch.”
Russ started the video. The counseling center door swung open and a slender boy emerged, a ballcap on his head and a bulky pack slung over his shoulder. The image wasn’t the clearest, but it plainly showed the boy walking swiftly to a BMX-style bicycle chained to a telephone pole at the curb. He bent over the bike, presumably unlocking it, then jumped on and pedaled rapidly away.
Russ paused the video. “Denny’s session with Brenda ended at one p.m. This footage came from a camera on the daycare center across the street. Time-stamped 1:03.”
He clicked “Play,” and together they watched a series of spliced clips tracking Denny’s progress through Crescent Bluff on the day of his death. Some bits of footage came from retail establishments, others from home security systems. Most was of poor quality and taken from a distance. But in every shot, he seemed in a rush, standing on the pedals and pumping hard.
The final seconds of the montage showed Denny zipping through an intersection in front of a convenience store.
“That’s on the Old Ranch Way,” Colly said.
Russ nodded. “He’s heading north. And look at the time stamp—1:12.”
“So?”
“Avery’s report says Denny told Brenda he was going to the library after therapy to return some books for his mom. But he didn’t. Timeline doesn’t work. And we found library books in that backpack yesterday.” Russ jabbed his finger at the screen. “Something changed his mind.”
“Brenda said he was acting antsy. He could’ve been excited about the weekend and blown off the library.”
“Who’d want to lug a bunch of books to the stock pond? That’s a long ride on a hot day.”
Colly removed her glasses and chewed absently on one of the temple tips. “Too bad he’s wearing the hat. If we could see his face, his expression might show—” A noise in the hallway interrupted her thought. Avery was standing at the door, a manila folder under her arm. Her eyes were bright and her face was flushed.
“Sorry I’m late.” She grabbed a chair against the wall and pulled it close to the desk. “I’ve got news.”
Russ closed the laptop. “What’s up?”
“Last night, I went through the case photos.” Avery pulled a color print from the folder and laid it on the desk.
Colly examined it closely—a mid-distance shot of a BMX bicycle lying on its side in tall grass. It was in poor condition, the paint scratched and the saddle wrapped in silver duct tape.
“It’s Denny’s. I took this at the stock pond the day his body was found. Here’s a closer shot.” Avery laid a second photo over the first and tapped it with her finger. “See?”
Colly and Russ both leaned in until their heads were nearly touching. A fresh-looking scrape was clearly visible on the tip of the right handlebar.
“Doesn’t prove that’s from the fireworks stand, I know,” Avery said.
“Supports the theory, though.” Russ grinned. “Nice work.”
Avery waved her hand impatiently. “That’s not the big news. Like I said, I found this photo last night. So this morning, I stopped by the feed-and-seed out on Winters Road.”
“Ned Sandleford’s place?” Russ asked.
Avery nodded. “Sam and Alan Sandleford both work there.” She turned to Colly. “They’re the ones—”
“—who own the fireworks stand. I remember.”
“Well, guess what? Denny used to work for them.”
Russ cocked an eyebrow. “When?”
“Last summer. They hired him to staff the stand a couple afternoons a week in the lead-up to the Fourth of July. But get this.” Avery paused for effect. “They fired him. Said he was unreliable.”
“How’d Denny take it?” Colly asked.
“Not great. Told them they’d be sorry. Then in August, someone broke into the stand and smashed up the place. The Sandlefords thought it was Denny.”
Russ crossed his arms. “Why didn’t they file a report?”
“They had no proof, and there wasn’t enough damage for an insurance claim.”
“Did they retaliate?”
“I asked, but they got evasive. There’s definitely more to the story than they let on.” Avery paused. “Well? This is huge, right? If Denny trashed their place, they’ve got motive.”
“Did you record this interview?” Colly demanded.
“I didn’t think of it till after.”
Colly glanced at Russ, who cleared his throat. “Did you ask Sam and Alan why they didn’t see fit to tell the Rangers all of this in September?”
“I tried. But like I said, they clammed up. I figure we can ask later.” Avery hesitated, perplexed. “You’ll want to follow up with them, right?”
Colly threw up her hands. “You should’ve checked with me before doing this, dammit.”
Avery turned indignantly to Russ. “What’s her problem?”
Russ sighed heavily. “It was a good idea, Parker. But you’ve got to clear things with Colly first. She’s the lead on this case.”
“Are you kidding? I bring you a potential breakthrough, and you’re lecturing me on how ‘there’s no I in team ’?”
“Procedure’s important. Protocol lapses can ruin a case.”
“I moved the case forward—that’s what matters. Jesus .”
Russ started to reply, but Colly cut him off. “No. What matters is building a case that’ll stick. You can’t prove the Sandlefords said any of this. If they did kill Denny, you’ve just put them on notice to—”
“What’s done is done.” Russ held up his hand. “Won’t happen again. Right, Parker?” He turned to Avery.
She stood up. “At least I was out doing something, while you’re in here enjoying your frappuccinos.” She stalked to the doorway. “FYI, Sam Sandleford wears size-ten shoes. Alan wears nines—I checked.” She slammed the door behind her.
Colly and Russ sat in silence as Avery’s footsteps faded down the hall. Finally, Colly stirred. “This isn’t working out, Russ.”
“She’s immature, and she screwed up.” Russ hunched his shoulders. “But don’t you think you’re being a little hard on her? She did bring back some important intel.”
“Which we can’t verify. Now, if the Sandlefords lawyer up—”
“You’re retired, Col. You need an active-duty officer with you. Avery’s the pick of the litter, believe me.”
“Bottom line, I can’t trust her.” Colly pushed her hair out of her eyes. “She lied to me yesterday, you know. Said she doesn’t remember anything from the night her brother disappeared except her dad carrying her out of the burning house.”
“Maybe that’s true.”
“I know when I’m being lied to. She’s hiding something.”
“She was eight. What could she possibly be hiding?”
“I don’t get it, Russ. We might have a serial killer here. Do you want the case to fail?”
“I just think you’re overreacting a little.” Russ rested his elbows on the desk. “Why are you letting Avery get under your skin? This isn’t like you. Even good cops make mistakes—you know that.”
Colly winced and looked away. “Yeah. And I know how severe the consequences can be.”
“Avery needs to learn a little discipline, that’s all. I’ll talk to her. She’ll come around.”