Chapter 27
Nick Turner
Nick yanked open the door to the Whistlerun Police Station with enough force that the hinges protested with a metallic whine.
He scanned the room for Hadley. Five days of unanswered calls and a single voicemail that explained nothing had pushed his patience beyond its limits.
But today’s call about a lead only fueled his irritation as he spotted her sitting at a desk in the back of the room.
He crossed the worn floorboards with restrained steps.
“I don't appreciate being ignored, Dawkins,” Nick exclaimed, not bothering to hide his agitation. “And I really don't appreciate being called when it suits your needs.”
“—and when was the last time the phone was active?” Hadley inquired, holding up her hand as a directive for him to wait while she finished her phone call. “And you've tried pinging it since we spoke earlier?”
Nick stopped in front of her desk. When she didn't even have the courtesy to meet his gaze, he placed both palms flat on the desktop and leaned forward. The wood creaked beneath his weight, a reminder of its age. Still, Hadley continued her conversation as if he wasn’t there.
“No, I don’t have a warrant,” Hadley informed the other party. She dropped her hand in frustration. “I’m concerned for his well-being, though.”
Nick's jaw tightened at her attempt to manipulate the situation. She turned slightly in her chair, angling away from him as if to minimize his presence.
“I appreciate it. And thanks for making this a priority.”
She ended the call, setting the receiver in its holder with more force than necessary. When she finally met his gaze, her eyes held none of the contrition he might have expected.
“Are you serious right now?” Nick pushed off the desk with his hands.
“Hadley, you have no grounds to have Ty Hobbs’ movements monitored.
He’s a twenty-three-year-old kid who went camping for a week.
Until you have something that counters his uncle’s claims, you’ll need to wait to speak to him until he gets back to town. ”
“And what if Ty’s life really is in danger? You weren’t there, Turner. Something isn’t right.”
“No, I wasn’t there. And whose fault is that?
Did it ever occur to you to call me back?
Have a conversation? What the hell happened to professional courtesy?
” Nick’s voice rose slightly before he caught himself.
The station's acoustics carried sound too well for raised voices.
“I've been trying to reach you for five days. Five days, Hadley. I’ve got the DEA crawling up my ass, I’m short-staffed, and now you suddenly decide I'm worth talking to because you think you've got a lead?”
Hadley pushed herself back from the desk, the chair's wheels squeaking against the floor. She walked over to a whiteboard, spun the board over, and revealed an intricate web of connections spanning from 1978 to the present.
“You're right,” Hadley admitted as she stepped back for him to get a better view of the information. “I should have called you back last week. I’ve seen your deputies around town, taking statements and searching for leads. I’ve been doing the same, and I believe the Hobbs family is tied to Pearl Shepley’s disappearance. ”
“And Reed’s death?”
“Yes.”
“Based on what, exactly?” Nick exhaled slowly, trying to maintain his composure. He had about twenty minutes to spare before he was needed back in Emberwood. “Start from the beginning.”
"Pearl Shepley disappeared during the 1978 Harvest Festival. She was just shy of her eighteenth birthday.” Hadley stood beside the board, her gaze on Pearl’s photograph.
“Elijah Garber was the police chief back then. I’ve recently discovered that he spread rumors about Pearl being pregnant and running away rather than face the shame. ”
“Garber admitted to that?” Nick asked in surprise. He’d never really liked the man, and Reed’s methods had been much the same. “Are you saying that he falsified—”
“Don’t get sidetracked, Turner,” Hadley warned as she leaned back against her desk. “You and I both know things are done differently here. Nothing you say or do now can change the past.”
Hadley was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Nick had spoken to the mayor at length three years ago, right before Reed had been appointed the new police chief of Whistlerun.
Even though the mayor had agreed that the position should be eliminated, he’d caved to the demands of the town council.
Nick could only hold out hope that it was never filled again.
“What does that have to do with the Hobbs family?”
“I brought up Pearl during our conversation this morning. Allen made mention of the fact that Thomas had a crush on Pearl. I confirmed that detail with Janet Shepley after I left the farm. Thomas Hobbs was 'sweet on her,' as Janet put it, but Pearl wasn't interested.”
“Unrequited teenage crushes are hardly motives for kidnapping or murder.” Nick wasn’t buying it. “Hadley, patterns can be constructed to fit almost any narrative if you look hard enough. I understand why you think these eight disappearances could be connected, but you literally have no evidence.”
“Allen would have been sixteen when Pearl disappeared,” Handily pointed out, crossing her arms. “I had a case last year where a thirteen-year-old boy murdered his best friend over a video game. Criminal acts like that aren’t unheard of at that age.”
Nick shook his head, still unconvinced.
“That's speculative at best, Hadley. You're building a case on coincidences and…unrequited love that didn’t have anything to do with Allen.”
“But what if it did? What if it wasn’t Thomas who had a crush on Pearl?
” Hadley tilted her head, as if hearing herself for the first time.
“Look, I know this sounds far-fetched, but Ty Hobbs respected Reed. You don’t find it odd that he suddenly went camping up at Buffalo River?
Would it change your mind if you knew that Ty’s cell phone has been turned off since last week?
The last ping from that phone came from the Hobbs farm, not somewhere on the way to Buffalo River. ”
Hadley let that information hang between them, her gaze steady and challenging. Nick didn’t appreciate being put in a lose-lose situation.
“Maybe Ty found something he wasn't supposed to, Nick. Maybe he confronted his uncle about it.”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck, exhaustion having settled in long ago. He'd been working long hours, catching up on sleep when possible, and dealing with his ex-wife. He was set to pick up his daughter on Thursday. He didn’t have a spare minute to chase unsubstantiated leads.
“You're making some pretty serious accusations about a man who's lived in this community his entire life. You and Reed grew up here. Do you honestly believe that Allen Hobbs could have abducted eight women over forty years without his family knowing? Without someone noticing? His own wife? Let’s not forget that you’re also suggesting that Allen Hobbs had the wherewithal to murder Reed Langley, the town's police chief, and burn his body in his own truck.”
“I believe that it is worth looking into, yes.”
Nick noted the way she met his stare. She believed in this theory completely, and her conviction was beginning to affect him despite his reservations.
“One of my deputies confirmed that Reed was parked near the front of the festival around the time that Nora returned to the station.” Nick offered the information as a peace gesture, supplying the source.
“A woman by the name of Lori Hayes, the owner of the boutique here in town, was driving home after closing up her shop.”
“Lori Hayes?”
There was a shift in Hadley’s tone that caused Nick to study her a little more closely. The name clearly meant something to her, but her expression remained neutral.
“Yes.” Nick waited for her to follow up with a question or a statement, but she did neither. “I had a sweep done of the festival grounds, but nothing was found. No blood, no shell casings, and nothing to indicate that Reed was in some type of altercation there.”
“I have an idea about that,” Hadley said as she straightened from the desk.
She brushed past him, coming to a stop in front of Reed’s desk.
He’d spotted the large topographical map spread out on the hard surface, but he hadn’t paid any attention to it at the time.
“The Hobbs property covers nearly two hundred acres.”
The corners of the map were weighted down by a stapler, a pencil holder, a tape dispenser, and a mug.
Nick stood beside her, noting the areas she had already marked with red circles—isolated spots in the woods, remote sections of farmland, and pastures not visible from any dirt roads.
He immediately recognized that all highlighted spots were places where bodies could be concealed without risk of accidental discovery.
“No judge is going to authorize a search of the entire Hobbs property based on a hunch. You know that.”
“I do,” Hadley admitted before flashing him a smile.
“And that’s why finding Ty Hobbs is so important.
You see, Allen doesn't own that property. Thomas left everything to his son. Allen and his wife are essentially living there at Ty's discretion, because they’re helping him keep things afloat in exchange for not paying rent.”
“So, if we find Ty, and he gives us permission to search...”
“We won’t need a warrant.”
The strategy was legally sound, but Nick couldn't shake his unease. If Allen was indeed responsible for the disappearances and possibly Reed's murder, then Ty's safety became an immediate concern. The timing of the young man's absence suddenly seemed far more ominous.
“Did Allen mention specifically where Ty was camping?” Nick asked right as the day shift dispatcher came over his radio. He ignored her request while waiting for Hadley to respond. “A campsite? Maybe somewhere that a ranger could locate him?”
“Buffalo River,” Hadley confirmed in general. “But he didn't give an exact location.”
“Buffalo River is a big area. Multiple campgrounds, hiking trails, and access points.
Without more specific information, finding him could take days.
I could contact the park rangers," Nick suggested after a moment.
“A friend of mine works there. I can have him check the campgrounds for Ty's truck.
If he's actually there, the rangers will find him faster than we could.”
“Sheriff Turner, do you copy?”
“I copy,” Nick responded after unclipping the radio from his uniform. “Heading out now. ETA twenty minutes. Listen, Hadley, I have to go.”
“I understand,” Hadley said, though her attention had already returned to the map, her focus unwavering. “Please keep me posted on what the rangers find. In the meantime, I'll pinpoint the areas we should explore once Ty gives us permission to search the property.”
Something in her tone made Nick pause. He recognized the determination of someone who wouldn't let go until they'd unraveled the entire fabric—regardless of potential consequences.
“Hadley,” Nick said cautiously, “you know that our hands are tied until we talk to Ty. We need his permission to search the property legally, or evidence solid enough for a warrant. Don't do anything rash."
He was confident that he’d gotten his warning across. Garber and Langley tended to think of the townsfolk as family. Both had tended to bend the laws for the sake of peace among the locals. This situation was nothing like the typical small-town bar fight or family feud.
“I know how to do my job, Sheriff Turner.”
Her use of his formal title indicated that she was offended by his insinuation. However, since she had been the one to search Gleason's property as if warrants were irrelevant, she had no right to take offense.
As Nick turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the certainty that Hadley wouldn’t be waiting for anyone’s permission. He made it to the door, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn the handle.
“Did Hobbs say when his nephew was returning from this camping trip?”
“Next week.”
Nick was familiar with the territory at Buffalo River, and it could literally take that long for a ranger to locate Ty’s truck, let alone the actual camping site. He could hear the words she hadn’t said aloud, either.
Next week.
After the Cane County Harvest Festival this weekend.