Chapter 45
FORTY-FIVE
Amanda’s father took her fishing once. He even rented a boat and did everything right.
She hated all of it. The smell of the fish, the blazing sun burning her fair skin and making her freckles stand out worse than ever—she didn’t tan, she freckled—but the worst part was sliding the worm onto the hook.
And the only reason she was thinking about any of this was because of what Russell Holden had said.
The warrant was denied for Hernandez’s residence because the judge said it sounded like a fishing expedition.
Why does that sound familiar? Then it hit.
The phrase had come up during the investigation on another occasion.
Trent pulled to the side of the road in front of the Mannings’ farm.
“So I was just thinking about fishing…”
“I didn’t take you as the type.”
She smiled at him and shook her head. “In relation to the case. Hernandez’s lawyer accused us of fishing for evidence against his client, and the judge who denied the search warrant for Hernandez’s house did so because he thought it was a fishing expedition.
We know the lawyer is in Hernandez’s pocket.
The same must apply to the judge. I mean what are the chances both men would use the same language? ”
“Fair point.”
“Then there’s that judge who dismissed Abigail’s statement against Hernandez. Did you notice that the marshal never answered my question about which judge he approached for the search warrant? What if it was the person from years ago?”
“He shook his head when you asked if they were one and the same.”
“Which I initially took as a response, but it could have been another dismissal. I just wish I could trust him.” She waved a hand to mark the end of the conversation she started.
“Though I may be seeing things that aren’t there.
” She got out of the car and drew in a deep breath of countryside.
Vegetation, something sweet, and something not so sweet…
Cow patties… “So what is the plan? We just wander around?”
“I think we should pop in and ask the Mannings if we can have a look around their property first.”
“Solid starting point.”
They walked up the Mannings’ long driveway. She was searching the sky on the lookout for circling vultures. The odd one flew past overhead, but that behavior didn’t flag.
Rhett was standing on the porch outside the door by the time they climbed the steps. “Detectives, what brings you here?”
“How are you doing?” Amanda asked him.
“Truth be told, not that great. I’ve had a few nightmares since…”
“Completely understandable.” Dead bodies often haunted her subconscious at night, and she’d been in Homicide for years. Though for her, she figured it was her mind working to unravel the riddle.
“Did you find who did that to that fella?”
“We’re getting closer. Detective Stenson and I were wondering if we have your permission to look over your property.”
“What for?”
She didn’t want to tell him they thought other bodies might have been hidden here. “We think it’s possible something was missed the other day that might help the investigation.”
Rhett narrowed his eyes, not looking convinced, but said, “I don’t see what the harm would be, but I’m not sure of the point either. You don’t suspect me or Shelley of having anything to do with this?”
“No, certainly not,” she assured him.
A few beats, then, “Sure, whatever you need to do.”
“Thank you.” Amanda was the first to turn to leave. As she walked away, she thought about what a wreck Rhett Manning would be if they turned up more remains. What a wreck she would be.
Amanda and Trent split up and walked the property to cover more ground in less time. He traveled farther out while she remained closer to the structures. She was tempted to call out Valerie’s and Brooke’s names but didn’t want to stress out the Mannings if they overheard.
She scanned the horizon line in front of her, letting her gaze dance over the property then toward the barn.
Going over there, she swung the door open and shone her flashlight inside.
The Mannings didn’t have any livestock, just the cornfields.
There was a rototiller and some other gardening equipment, including a riding lawnmower, but nothing much otherwise.
After clearing the barn, she stepped through a rear door, and came face to face with an old wishing well. It seemed like an odd spot for one, though it was no longer in use. The mouth of it was covered with a board. Still, she walked closer, feeling something drawing her that way.
A family of rats… Hernandez’s distaste for the Archers was clear in his words.
He’d made a showing of Abigail’s murder, knowing it would become public.
Removing her tongue made a declaration of what he’d do to those who opened their mouths against him.
The way Paul was killed and disposed of could also be taken as a clear warning.
This meant that Hernandez didn’t need to make a show out of murdering Valerie and Brooke Archer.
The Archers were disposable and may never be found.
But what if his label carried more weight? What if the comparison to the rodent held a clue? She scrolled through her mind for what she knew about them. Scrappy scavengers, disease carriers, living close to wherever there was a food source and multiplying.
She came to within five feet of the well.
So what did he do to them? What do people do with real rats? Trap them, poison them, show no mercy… Hernandez would place no value in Valerie’s and Brooke’s lives. There must be some clue in that… Of no value…
She reached the well. The board on top showed signs of rotting and age. Drawing her gaze along the diameter, she stopped at the sight of a nail standing in one spot. She rounded the well, even passing by what she’d already seen with a new focus.
At one point in time, the board had been nailed to the ledge of the well. But someone had pried it off and reset it without bothering to attach it again.
Rats built their nests underground, or in dark, isolated corners. Some lived in sewers. At that, an epiphany hit. She needed to look inside, but the diameter of the well was too large for her to remove the board by herself.
She pulled out her cell phone and called Trent. When he answered, she told him to meet her at the well behind the barn. He told her he’d be right there.
The second he appeared, she spoke. “Someone took this board off and just set it here. My gut is telling me…” She left it there, not feeling it was necessary to finish the sentence.
“Yeah, of course.” He walked across from her, and they lifted the board off and set it on the ground.
The pit was dark, and she pulled out her flashlight, leaned over, and shone the beam inside. At first there wasn’t anything to make out, but once Trent added the light from his flashlight, what had looked like a shapeless lump took form.
“Valerie? Brooke?” Please let them be alive!
There was nothing.
She repeated their names, louder this time. There was a moan. Valerie lifted her arm to shield her eyes from their beams.
“Prince William County Police, ma’am,” Trent said. “We’ll get you out of there. Is Brooke—”
“What?” The groggy voice of a teenager.
At the sound, Amanda’s legs became weak. They were both alive.
Trent got on the phone to request a full response team. It would bring the police, the fire department, and two ambulances.
“Help is on the way,” she told them. “Just hang in there.”