Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“I don’t have anybody to spare,” Huck said.
“Call in the county police or even the city,” Laurel said.
He grasped his radio. “Good idea. Just a sec.” He loped toward his truck, his body strong and sure in the pounding storm.
Wiping rain off her face, she bent down to look at the campfire spot. The techs had done an admirable job of securing everything. “Nothing appeared readable to you?”
Monty pushed sopping wet hair away from his face. “Smell that?”
Laurel sniffed the air. “Yeah. Is that turpentine?”
“It’s an accelerant. We can send these to the lab, what’s left, but—”
“We’re not going to get anything.” Laurel couldn’t believe this.
She straightened and walked across the campfire area to a dilapidated cabin with holes in the wood. Jason must’ve been freezing out here. Moving inside, she stayed out of the way of the crime techs who were already dusting the area. The place held a mattress on the ground with several heavy blankets next to cans of chili and soup. He must’ve cooked over the fire outside.
Had he fled? Called her to say goodbye to torment her?
She crouched to look at the cans. The most common soup brand. They’d be hard to trace. Right next to the bed was a photograph of Jason with Haylee, both smiling in front of a garden. Why had he kept the picture?
Huck returned. “I have somebody heading to Abigail’s now, and we’ve had a report of an explosion close to the river beneath these peaks.”
“Explosion?” Laurel pushed to her feet.
“Yeah,” Huck noted. “A group of fishermen camping out, planning to ice fish in the river tomorrow. They saw a huge explosion and reported that a vehicle is on fire right now.”
Laurel looked around. “Is there a place that Abbott could have driven a truck off around here?”
“There’s Widow’s Peak,” Huck said. “It’s about fifteen minutes from here by foot. Driving, maybe two or three. I’ll send a deputy there, and I have people going to check out the scene below. It could just be some kids goofing off.”
Experience told her nothing was that easy. She walked back outside with him. “Let’s search this area as soon as the techs are finished.”
“You bet.”
The wind whipped the freezing rain sideways, and she pulled her hood closer over her head.
“Why don’t you wait in the truck until they’re finished, and then I’ll help you search.” Huck used the question form, but his tone suggested a command. His overprotective side had just reemerged.
She wanted to argue but couldn’t see any reason to stay in the rain, so she ran over to the truck and jumped inside, looking back to talk to the dog. “Jason Abbott isn’t somebody who would drive off a cliff,” she said, as Aeneas watched her with his soft black eyes. “If anything, he’s headed to a city to continue hunting people.”
Except that wasn’t right either. She knew he wouldn’t be able to let go of his fantasies of killing Abigail and Laurel. He just couldn’t. It wasn’t in his nature. She tried to think through the entire case for a good twenty minutes until Huck returned.
“They’re about finished, so we can search. But I have to tell you, there’s not much around. The deputy I sent to Widow’s Peak didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but the wind and rain have been wild.” Huck’s radio buzzed, and he pressed the button on the device attached to his dash. “Rivers.”
“It’s Sheriff York. I headed to the base of the cliff like you asked.”
Huck leaned inside, bringing the scent of pine and rain with him. “Hi, Sheriff. What have you found?”
“I found a burning truck by the edge of the river.”
Laurel shut her eyes.
Huck exhaled loudly. “Is there a body in the truck?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s a body in the truck. It’s burnt almost beyond recognition. I’ve had to call in the state cops on this one. We don’t have enough manpower,” York said loudly, the wind combatting his voice.
Laurel focused on the radio. “Did you see anything else?”
“I can’t get close enough. The truck is still burning. All I can see is a body and a skull on the dash.”
“That’s all right,” Laurel said wearily. “I think we know who it is.”
Huck clicked the radio back into place. “Does Jason Abbott seem like someone who’d kill himself?”
“No,” Laurel said, every bone in her body aching. “There’s no way Jason Abbott would’ve ended his own life. He was a narcissist, and he was out for revenge. There’s only one person I can think of smart enough to kill him.”
Huck’s phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear. “Yeah? . . . Really? . . . All right, thanks. Bye.”
She didn’t like his tone. “What is it?”
“The Genesis Valley police officer I sent to Abigail’s home found her in her nightgown, obviously fresh out of bed. She was irritated to have been awakened and happily gave the CCTV footage from her house to the officer.”