Her Broken Wings by D.K. Hood
Eleven
Kane peered through the window. An old man dripping with water stood on the porch. He had wrinkled cheeks, and a tuft of gray hair poked out of the front of his fur-lined trapper hat. Brown eyes looked at him through black-rimmed eyeglasses. He’d bundled up against the weather, and Kane couldn’t make out if the visitor carried a weapon. He opened the front door a few inches and looked at him, watching his body language for any signs of aggression. “Is there a problem?”
“Maybe.” The man indicated behind him with his thumb. “Seen a truck in the bushes back a ways on Stanton Road. I stopped to take a look and the air thereabouts has a stink like roadkill. I figured it was a wreck, so I called 911. The dispatcher said the sheriff was at this address, and she said as I was close by, I should drop by and take you to where I found the wreck.”
As the man finished speaking, Jenna’s cellphone chimed. Kane could hear her speaking to Maggie and frowned. “I see.” He edged onto the porch, blocking the door to avoid the visitor viewing the bloody walls inside the house. He pulled out his notebook. “Did you go and see if anyone was injured?”
“No, with the smell and all, I thought it would be better to call 911.” The stranger shuffled his feet. “I didn’t really want to get involved.”
“You did the right thing.” Kane met the man’s dark gaze. “I’ll need your details. What brings you out in this weather?”
“Tom Dickson, I’m out of Saddle Creek. I own a cabin up there and was heading into town looking for work.” Dickson frowned. “I got myself laid off for the winter. I’ve not been at the plant long enough for paid vacation time.”
Kane relaxed a little. Saddle Creek was an isolated area in the foothills of Stanton Forest. In his time in Black Rock Falls, he’d come to realize many people lived off the grid in the small cabins all over the forest. “There’s no one hiring around here at the moment. Maybe try some of the ranches farther out. They’ll have livestock that needs tending during winter.” He heard Jenna disconnect and come toward the door.
“Yeah, I was thinking of the produce store maybe.” Dickson rubbed his hands together. “It’s warmer inside.”
Kane turned as Jenna came out of the house, briefcase in hand. “Sheriff, this is Tom Dickson. He found a wreck on Stanton Road.”
“Yeah, Maggie called and said he was on his way. We’ll check it out.” Jenna closed the door behind her and then gave Dickson a long, considering stare. “Do you have provisions for winter? You’ll be snowed in before long.”
“Well, yes, ma’am I did until a bear tore down my shed. It came back with a few of its friends and ate everything.” Dickson sighed. “Then the plant laid me off, last on, first off they said, so I’m looking for work.”
“We need someone to stack boxes in the cellar.” Jenna raised one eyebrow. “It will take a day and it’s nice and warm down there. Will that help?”
“It sure would, ma’am. Thank you kindly.” Dickson frowned. “Do you want me to lead the way to the wreck?”
“Yeah.” Jenna followed him down the steps. “Then head into the sheriff’s department and speak to Maggie at the front counter. I’ll call her and she’ll show you what I need. She might know of other people around town who need odd jobs doing as well.”
Kane watched Dickson walk away with a distinct limp. Whatever his age, he appeared to be struggling. “Do you work with horses?”
“Sure do.” Dickson’s mouth twitched into a smile. “It was my gelding who alerted me to the bear. Darn nuisance. By the time I got outside the damage was done.” He swung into his truck. “Turn right at the end of the drive. It’s about a quarter mile along the highway on the left.”
Kane removed his latex gloves and pulled on his thick leather pair before placing the evidence bag containing the hard drive into the back of his truck. He turned to take the briefcase from Jenna. “You sure about allowing a total stranger into our basement?”
“What’s he going to steal—the furnace?” She flashed him a grin. “The poor old man is destitute; would you rather I sent him to the soup kitchen?”
Kane closed the back door and opened the driver’s side. “No, I guess Maggie will watch him.”
“And Rowley. Walters will be in for a couple of days this week too. He’ll make sure Dickson behaves himself.” Jenna climbed into the passenger seat and turned to him. “The townsfolk look out for each other. Once the word gets out he needs help, he’ll get work. A man like that won’t take charity.”
“I guess Maggie will have it all around town by the time we leave tonight.” Kane started the engine and headed down the driveway. He glanced at Jenna. “If this is a wreck and it happened last night, I doubt anyone will have survived out in this weather.”
“If it stinks like roadkill, it happened way before last night.” She looked at Kane. “In this weather, decomposition would be slow.”
Although sleet pelted the windshield and the driveway had vanished into a haze of gray, it didn’t take Kane too long to catch up to the other driver. It was a cold, wet, miserable day, and as they turned onto Stanton Road, a thick mist made the tall majestic pines appear as if a bubbling lake surrounded them. Water dripped from the branches and disappeared into the swirling fog, whipped up by the continual howl of wind. He glanced at Jenna. “I’m wondering how he noticed a wreck in this weather. I can hardly make out the blacktop.”
“Hmm, and it’s gotten worse in the last hour or so.” She tucked her hair under her hat and then pulled on gloves. “He’s slowing down. I can’t see anything from here.” She sighed. “I have the awful feeling we’re going to be here for some time.” She indicated to the back of a truck wedged between two thick pines. “There it is.”
“I see it.” The truck had plowed through the undergrowth and come to rest between two trees. “The driver should’ve survived. I wonder what happened?” Only the tailgate was visible; the forest and heavy mist seemed to have swallowed up the rest of the vehicle. Kane pulled up behind Dickson’s truck. As he opened the door, a sudden wave of unease rolled over him. He scanned the immediate area in all directions, the mist was so thick now, it was as if Dickson’s truck was sitting in a cloud.
“Maybe he had a medical emergency.” Jenna came around the hood and glanced at him.
“It’s possible. Let’s see if we can locate the driver and then we’ll look for skid marks.”
“Sure.” Kane’s gut was screaming at him something was terribly wrong with this scenario.
“I can’t smell death. Let’s be careful.” Jenna’s low voice came from close behind him, echoing his thoughts, and the sound of her weapon slipping from the holster appeared loud in the silence.
“Copy.” Kane looked over at Dickson. He could see both his hands on the wheel. When the window buzzed down, he waved him away. “Thanks, we’ll take it from here.”
The old man gave them a nod and then drove away. As so many strange things happened in Black Rock Falls, walking into traps had become par for the course. He turned to look at her. “I can’t smell anything either. If this is a trap, it’s a great place. With the mist and constant sleet, it’s hard to see anything. There could be a tripwire anywhere.”
“I’ll look down, you look up. I’m not seeing any footprints.” Jenna was searching the ground with her Maglite. “I can’t see any ground disturbance or tripwires.”
Kane glanced up into the canopy and frowned. “Nothing above us apart from crows just sitting up there waiting. There must be something dead around here but I’m not sure why they’re not on the ground.”
“We can’t stand here birdwatching all day.” Jenna indicated toward the truck. “The body might be inside the vehicle, so the crows don’t have access.”
As they moved slowly between the soaked trees, underfoot the pine-needle-packed ground was like walking on blankets. All around was eerily silent. Stanton Forest was usually a hive of activity and home to a vast variety of wildlife. The silence was unusual and a warning something wasn’t right. The truck seemed to emerge out of the mist; several dents covered the tailgate and both front doors hung open. Kane took photographs using his phone and then moved in slowly. He peered inside the cab: no sign of blood but he found the forest floor disturbed around both doors. “Looks like they were running away from something.” He snapped more images and his gaze locked on something. A tingle of a warning raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “Oh, and this is unusual.” He plucked two black feathers from the front seat and held them up. “Didn’t Wolfe find a black feather beside Lucas Robinson?”
“Yeah, but it may not be connected.” She pointed up. “They probably came from the crows. The wind could’ve blown them inside the truck.”
“I’ll bag them.” He squinted in the unrelenting sleet. Even the tall pines didn’t offer them much shelter. “There’s no blood inside the truck. The logical place to go would be back to the highway.”
“From the broken branches, they went this way.” Jenna moved on ahead of him and then stopped dead. “Bobcat.”
Kane moved to her side, raised his voice, and waved his arms around. “Get out of here.” The cat raised its blood-soaked muzzle from the corpse of a man, snarled but backed away and bounded into the forest. “The cat was keeping the crows away.”
“There’s another body over here.” Jenna turned to look at him and her face drained of color. “Headshots, both of them.”
Kane crouched down beside the first victim. “This guy was running away and took a bullet in the shoulder; the headshot was last. From the damage, the shooter was packing for bear.”
“Same with this one. He has a wound in the back, headshot to finish him.” Jenna leaned against a tree and sighed. “Take as many images as possible. I’ll call it in and get Wolfe on scene.” She lifted her gaze to Kane. “Finding those feathers might be significant after all. I sure hope these murders and the hit aren’t connected. The last thing we need over Halloween is another darn serial killer in town.”