man’s shoe.”
“At least we know it’s not Jenny.”
In the distance, Jake could see some approaching vehicles. Three police cars pulled up, and Jake waved the first one over. A uniform was driving, Hank in the passenger seat.
Jake pointed to the lane by the road. “In there,” he said.
“Jump in,” Hank said. “Annie, get in.”
They climbed in the back seat of the cruiser. Annie pointed. “Just drive up this lane into the forest, then it’s just past that.”
The uniform drove, the other cars followed.
They stopped in the clearing and climbed from the cruiser. Hank told Jake and Annie they should stand back from the immediate area, and in a few minutes, the clearing was buzzing. One cop was stretching yellow crime scene tape, others were milling around, one taking pictures, one on the phone, and Hank bending over the partially uncovered corpse.
Richmond Hill didn’t have a large robbery/homicide division. When Hank joined the force here, there hadn’t been a murder for years, and few since. His training and experience took over now.
Officer Spiegle was there. He bent curiously over the grave.
“Don’t touch anything,” Hank warned. “The M.E. is on her way. Get back over there.” He looked up at the cop. “Spiegle, make yourself useful. Go out to the road there and make sure she finds us all right.”
“Who?”
“The M.E.,” Hank said. “Who else?”
Spiegle wandered away. It sounded like an easy task.
Hank watched him and shook his head.
Jake and Annie were sitting, their backs against a tree. Annie followed Jake as he got up and approached Spiegle. He held out his hand. “Hi, Yappy,” he said.
Jake knew Officer Spiegle. A little bit. He didn’t think much of him, but he liked to keep a cordial relationship with everybody. Especially cops.
Yappy shook Jake’s hand limply. “Hey Jake,” he said.
“I want to ask you a little bit about the car you chased the other day. The one that drove into the bushes.”
“Yeah?”
“The guy who was driving it. I know you reported he was fifty or sixty.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell me anything else about him?”
Spiegle looked up at the treetops, and then back. “Maybe he was drunk,” he said.
“Drunk? How do you know?”
“Don’t know really, I just think he was. He looked like a bum too. Had on this old overcoat. He ran fast though. I wasn’t that close and he was gone before I had a chance to catch him.”
Jake squinted at Yappy, and asked thoughtfully, “Do you think he was just out for a joyride?”
“Yeah, probably. Anyway, it wasn’t his car.” Yappy looked over toward Hank. “I gotta go,” he said.
“Thanks Yappy. You’ve been a big help.”
Spiegle waved it off. “Don’t mention it.” He walked toward the road.
Jake looked at Annie. “I lied,” he said.
Annie cocked her head at him.
“He was no help at all.”
Friday, August 12th, 1:33 PM
THE sunlight seeped through cracks between the boards, casting long strips of white, diagonally across the heavy plank floor of the vast storage area. The air inside the barn was warm, but not uncomfortable, as the tin-covered roof high above the hayloft deflected most of the heat. An old tractor, unused for years, sat decaying beside the large double doors. Other forgotten farm implements were scattered about.
Jenny had worked at the thick leather collar until her neck was sore and raw. The chain holding her allowed a few feet of freedom, and she’d searched as far as she could reach for something sharp, anything at all that might cut into the leather band. She’d found nothing.
She picked away at the peanut butter sandwich Jeremy had left her that morning. A half-eaten apple lay on the plate. She didn’t feel much like eating.
She’d slept little the night before, and any attempts to sleep now were useless, though she’d tried.
She used the pail he’d left her for a toilet. There was no tissue. She had to use straw. She felt
“At least we know it’s not Jenny.”
In the distance, Jake could see some approaching vehicles. Three police cars pulled up, and Jake waved the first one over. A uniform was driving, Hank in the passenger seat.
Jake pointed to the lane by the road. “In there,” he said.
“Jump in,” Hank said. “Annie, get in.”
They climbed in the back seat of the cruiser. Annie pointed. “Just drive up this lane into the forest, then it’s just past that.”
The uniform drove, the other cars followed.
They stopped in the clearing and climbed from the cruiser. Hank told Jake and Annie they should stand back from the immediate area, and in a few minutes, the clearing was buzzing. One cop was stretching yellow crime scene tape, others were milling around, one taking pictures, one on the phone, and Hank bending over the partially uncovered corpse.
Richmond Hill didn’t have a large robbery/homicide division. When Hank joined the force here, there hadn’t been a murder for years, and few since. His training and experience took over now.
Officer Spiegle was there. He bent curiously over the grave.
“Don’t touch anything,” Hank warned. “The M.E. is on her way. Get back over there.” He looked up at the cop. “Spiegle, make yourself useful. Go out to the road there and make sure she finds us all right.”
“Who?”
“The M.E.,” Hank said. “Who else?”
Spiegle wandered away. It sounded like an easy task.
Hank watched him and shook his head.
Jake and Annie were sitting, their backs against a tree. Annie followed Jake as he got up and approached Spiegle. He held out his hand. “Hi, Yappy,” he said.
Jake knew Officer Spiegle. A little bit. He didn’t think much of him, but he liked to keep a cordial relationship with everybody. Especially cops.
Yappy shook Jake’s hand limply. “Hey Jake,” he said.
“I want to ask you a little bit about the car you chased the other day. The one that drove into the bushes.”
“Yeah?”
“The guy who was driving it. I know you reported he was fifty or sixty.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you tell me anything else about him?”
Spiegle looked up at the treetops, and then back. “Maybe he was drunk,” he said.
“Drunk? How do you know?”
“Don’t know really, I just think he was. He looked like a bum too. Had on this old overcoat. He ran fast though. I wasn’t that close and he was gone before I had a chance to catch him.”
Jake squinted at Yappy, and asked thoughtfully, “Do you think he was just out for a joyride?”
“Yeah, probably. Anyway, it wasn’t his car.” Yappy looked over toward Hank. “I gotta go,” he said.
“Thanks Yappy. You’ve been a big help.”
Spiegle waved it off. “Don’t mention it.” He walked toward the road.
Jake looked at Annie. “I lied,” he said.
Annie cocked her head at him.
“He was no help at all.”
Friday, August 12th, 1:33 PM
THE sunlight seeped through cracks between the boards, casting long strips of white, diagonally across the heavy plank floor of the vast storage area. The air inside the barn was warm, but not uncomfortable, as the tin-covered roof high above the hayloft deflected most of the heat. An old tractor, unused for years, sat decaying beside the large double doors. Other forgotten farm implements were scattered about.
Jenny had worked at the thick leather collar until her neck was sore and raw. The chain holding her allowed a few feet of freedom, and she’d searched as far as she could reach for something sharp, anything at all that might cut into the leather band. She’d found nothing.
She picked away at the peanut butter sandwich Jeremy had left her that morning. A half-eaten apple lay on the plate. She didn’t feel much like eating.
She’d slept little the night before, and any attempts to sleep now were useless, though she’d tried.
She used the pail he’d left her for a toilet. There was no tissue. She had to use straw. She felt
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