Kylie Brant - What the Dead Know (The Mindhunters Book 8) Read online

  The clock on the computer caught her eye then, and she gave a mental groan. “We can finish this tomorrow. I have to get you back to town. You’d better hope the Turners still have the door unlocked for you.”

  With deliberation, he pressed the key that would halt the feed. “I’m not going back to town. At least not tonight.”

  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone tonight.” His voice was amiable enough, but his expression was resolute. Still waters. She had the errant thought even as she was gathering her indignation. There was more—far more—to this man than met the eye. “It’s unnecessary and careless. You’ve a window that isn’t secure and a killer fixated on you. Tomorrow you’ll get surveillance lined up, and the window fixed. But for tonight I’m staying right here. I’ll just stretch out on the couch.”

  “Like you told me this afternoon, I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Good.” He worked his shoulders tiredly. “I don’t have a lot of experience in that area.”

  “Carstens.” He cocked a brow at her sharp tone. “I am armed. I assure you I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if the intruder comes back, but we both know he won’t. You can’t stay here.”

  “Well, realistically, I can.” The reasonableness of his tone set her teeth on edge. “You look like you’re in pretty good shape, but it’s not like you can pick me up and carry me to the car. Nor can you have your deputies do so because there’s not one of them who would disagree that it’s just common sense for me to stay tonight.”

  “I’m not a fan of pushy men.”

  A slight smile played around his mouth. “My mother calls it leadership skills, but I can see how you might regard my abilities in a different light. We’ve got about five hours until I’m guessing you’re going to be up in the morning, so we can spend it arguing or we can catch some sleep. I’ll text the Turners that I won’t be there until tomorrow.” He waited, as if for her agreement and when it didn’t come he added, “Some women find stubborn men charming.”

  She bared her teeth. “And here I’ve always had an overwhelming urge to stab them in the eye. There’s no accounting for tastes.”

  His smile widened. “Go to bed, Keira. It’s been a helluva night.”

  She stared at him impotently, considering her options. It took all of a minute to realize she had none. So she rose silently and did exactly what he told her to do. It was with a small measure of satisfaction that she neglected to tell him that the couch he’d chosen was a lot more comfortable for sitting than it was for sleeping.

  _______

  “The commissioners want you there at two-thirty rather than three.” Pammy waited as Keira switched her snow boots for the shoes she’d left there, then followed her through the offices. “Arnie called in about six-thirty and left a message. Apparently he’s successfully convinced the rest of the board that your presentation is going to take longer than they’d allotted.”

  Keira squelched the urge to rub her forehead where a headache brewed. It had been brought on by Finn Carstens and was likely going to be topped off by the upcoming meeting before the board. Arnie would lead the charge, attempting to interrogate her about her decision to bring in an agent from Raiker Forensics. She had to believe that more rational minds on the board would prevail.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to keep some Tylenol on hand just in case.

  “Do you have last night’s…” Her words trailed off as the most recent incident logs were shoved into her hand. “Thanks, Pammy.”

  The younger woman tromped along beside her in black platform boots that bore a vague resemblance to the pair that Herman Munster had worn in a long-ago sitcom. “There’s also been a missing persons’ call this morning.”

  That stopped Keira in her tracks. “From whom?”

  “Connie Abernathy. Seventy-nine-year-old female living on disability outside of city limits in Fair Grove Trailer Park. She’s concerned about her son, Charlie. He’s twenty-seven, lives on his own, but normally calls or stops in daily. He’s done neither for eight days nor does he answer his cell.”

  Eight days. She did the mental math. The delivery to her porch had been six days ago. But the missing nail on the severed finger had shown signs of healing. How long would that have taken? She’d have to ask Finn.

  Involuntarily she glanced at the conference room, which was dark. She’d dropped the man off thirty minutes ago and then gone to Patten’s house to give the man the security access for her home cameras. Finn would have to shower and change clothes, and she doubted he’d escape the Turners before sitting down to eat the breakfast they provided their guests every morning. Which was more than she’d had to offer, even if she’d been so inclined. They’d established the paltry stocking of her kitchen the night before.

  “Okay.” Keira began moving away. She’d hope her early arrival would give her time to put the final touches on her presentation to the board. If she let it, the hours would be sucked away dealing with the everyday details of the job. “When Cal comes in tell him no calls or visitors until my door is open, except for emergencies. Oh, and I need to see Carstens when he arrives.” She was almost, almost over his obstinacy from the night before. Especially when she’d come downstairs this morning and caught him rubbing his neck as if it were stiff. She’d been unable to spare any sympathy.

  “You got it.” Pammy clomped away.

  Unsurprisingly the light was on in Mary Jacobs’s office already. She stuck her head in the door to find the woman hunched over her computer. “Morning, Mary.”

  The woman’s head jerked up. “Sheriff. How’d it go at your place last night?”

  As Keira gave her a brief rundown Mary’s expression grew grim. “Have you given any more thought to adding surveillance to your place?”

  “Yes. I have an idea in mind, but I have to check some details. We got a missing person’s report this morning.” She held up a hand to quell the spark of excitement in the woman’s expression. “I’m not sure the individual has been gone long enough to be the victim we’re looking for, but it is a male. His mother called it in, and she’s disabled, so take her a report to fill out. Pammy’s got her personal information. Let me know what you come up with.”

  The woman nodded, and Keira continued quickly to her office. Something told her she wasn’t going to get as much time as she wanted before the first ‘emergency’ arose today.

  _______

  “As Mary and Brody work down the list of their assigned missing persons reports, the findings will be logged on the chart on the wall.” After last night, Keira had decided to put Brody on days. They’d all take turns responding to calls that came in after hours.

  She checked the clock above the door. She had an hour and a half before the meeting, and she’d skipped lunch. Experience had taught her it paid to have a full stomach for fortification. “I’ll prioritize them and follow up with the case detectives if specific information is needed.” She switched her attention to Finn. “Is it possible to tell the age of the victim the severed finger belonged to?”

  He shook his head. “Forensically speaking those tests are in their infancy. At any rate, they rely on blood or tooth samples. Even then they can only come within about five years of accuracy, which for our purposes may or may not be narrow enough.”

  “But you already did DNA samples back in DC, right?” This from Phil Milestone. “What else were you able to tell about the owner of that finger besides the fact that he’s male?”

  “Even without the tests, it was easily eliminated as belonging to Danny Saxon,” Finn explained. “The liver had degraded a great deal because it had been kept in formaldehyde. The finger had not been similarly treated. It had been taken from a live victim much more recently, probably no more than a week earlier.”

  “I only ordered the tests that would tell me if there was a match between the liver, the finger and my own blood sample. Finn has ordered a mobile lab, which will be here…” Keira looked at the man quest
ioningly.

  “It should arrive this evening.” Finn looked around the table. “Additional testing will reveal whether the partial finger and the ear that was delivered to Keira last night came from the same victim. I should be able to determine race, gender and possibly any disease the individual is suffering from.” He hesitated, and Keira knew intuitively that he was thinking about Danny. A DNA analysis hadn’t been necessary to establish his cancer condition. The condition of the liver sample had made it obvious.

  Useless to wonder now if her dad would have beaten the illness had he been given the opportunity. Because Danny’s time had run out the moment the killer had targeted him.

  “Once we have those results we may be able to zero in on a victim from our files. Or else discover that we have to go further abroad,” Keira said, “and look at missing persons reports from the lower portion of Michigan and Wisconsin. Until then we’ll keep working the cases we have.”

  Hank nudged a paper across the table to Finn. “These names were on the list of people Danny helped put away. Those that I eliminated have been crossed out with the reason marked. Dead, alibied or back in prison. Five have left the state, and I’m tracking them down. The other two names belong to people who would be in their seventies now. How hard should I be looking at them?”

  “We aren’t ready to eliminate anyone at this point.” Finn took the paper and scanned it quickly. “What we know about his activities so far indicate someone in fair shape, but they wouldn’t require a great deal of strength or exertion. Check them out as thoroughly as the others on the list.”

  Keira pushed back her chair to signal the meeting was at an end. Hank left quickly, and she knew he was feeling the urgency that came from the double duty they were pulling, with this case on top of their other responsibilities. Theirs wasn’t a particularly large department. Being down a jailer and tracking a murderer on top of it would be taxing on everyone. The fact that one of the victims had been their former boss meant there would be an emotional cost, as well.

  Phil lingered in the room until Hank had left, then closed the door. Lack of sleep showed clearly on his face, carving the lines in it even deeper. “Before this goes any further, you need to see to the security at your cabin. Is that window fixed yet?”

  She fought to keep a smile from her face. Despite his brusque exterior the man could be endearingly mother-hennish. “In the process. The security company got there a couple hours ago. They have to reset and check the alarm once the new window is in, and make sure the tresspasser didn’t establish a loop in the system that would allow him to circumvent it next time.” She caught Finn’s approving nod from the corner of her eye. “I’ve also tapped Chase about monitoring the feed from home, at least during my shift. I’ll stop over there after my meeting and download the security app on his computer and input the access information.”

  The older man scratched his head. “Good idea. Will that screw up his medical leave?”

  “Not sure yet.” Keira picked up the files she’d brought in. “I’m going to let HR nitpick through that one. We might have to return him to part-time work on a conditional basis. I’ll let them worry about it. He’s eager to help out, and they’ve given the green light for computer work to proceed. And possibly some phone work, as well.”

  “It’ll be good for him. Keep his brain from going to mush while he’s recovering.” Apparently satisfied, Phil went out the door.

  Once he’d gone Finn inquired, “What are the culinary lunch options in town?”

  “I was just going to grab something myself. We’ve got a couple fast food places.” She noted the flicker of distaste on Finn’s face so continued without missing a beat. “Claire’s Diner is good if you have the time to wait out the lunch crowd. Otherwise, there’s another sit-down restaurant and a great deli that will make sandwiches to your specifications.”

  He crossed to his desk, dropped some papers on it, then picked up the coat draped on the back of his chair to slip into it. “The deli it is.”

  “Afterward I’ll take you by the county garage, and we can check out whether it’s suitable for storing the mobile lab.” They fell in step as she walked back to her office to set the files on her desk and then turned to gather her coat and purse. “The structure mostly houses county maintenance vehicles and includes a repair bay. If it’s appropriate, I’ll have to get permission to use it. The sheriff’s department doesn’t have access to the building on a normal basis.”

  “Hopefully you don’t have to run the decision by the commissioners. From my brief meeting with one of them, I can imagine how that request will go,” he said wryly. “Is the garage climate controlled?”

  She had a quick sinking feeling in her gut. “I’m not sure. Is that necessary?”

  His expression was somber. “It is. There will be a generator on board the mobile lab, of course, but a continuous proper temperature is necessary for the reagents and consumables.”

  If it meant an extra expense for twenty-four-hour heating, she’d have to agree to shoulder the cost. If they found out the county garage wasn’t going to work there would be limited time to find another location that would be acceptable.

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Maybe Arnie will have some ideas.” Finn jammed his hands in his pockets as they strolled toward the front door. “He seemed so helpful.”

  Stifling a snort, she stopped at Cal’s desk to give him a schedule for her next few hours before switching into her snow boots and heading out the door. The radio on her belt crackled then, and she answered it while digging in her pocket for keys to the SUV.

  “It’s Jacobs, Sheriff. I’ve finished with Abernathy’s report and talked to a few of the neighbors. Connie Abernathy was in a weakened state when I got there, and I called County Home Health to come out for a wellness check. But she’s adamant she hasn’t seen or heard from Charlie since last week when he brought her some groceries.” Keira heard traffic sounds in the background and assumed Mary was in her car. “The next door neighbor can’t recall whether it was eight or ten days since Charlie came around, but he remembers noticing his visit because he always watches for him since ‘the kid’ as the neighbor referred to Charlie is ‘no damn good’.”

  Keira crossed the lot, her boots crunching on the icy layer covering the pavement. “Did Ms. Abernathy give you any ideas of where to start looking for him?”

  “I went to the place he’d been renting, but the landlord said he’d been evicted last week. Guess Charlie doesn’t believe in paying rent. Had a phone conversation with the one contact his mom was able to give me, a girlfriend by the name of Zilly Peck.”

  “Name rings a bell.” Keira searched her memory as she used the fob to unlock the vehicle and pulled the driver’s door open. In the next moment the name clicked. The woman had done a short stint in jail for kiting checks in the past but had been working at the Kwik-E-Station since she’d returned to town. As far as Keira knew she’d stayed out of trouble since.

  “What do we know about Charlie Abernathy?”

  “No record, but also no known employment history. Peck claims she hasn’t seen him in months, but she gave me the names of three guys to check out. A couple of them has had some drunk and disorderlies and other misdemeanors. They’re both from town. The other is Pete Bielefeld. Just paroled out of Milan a couple years ago on federal drug charges for manufacturing and distributing. I spoke with his parole officer and got an address on him. He’s living in Shingleton.”

  “Pete Bielefeld,” she repeated, slanting a glance at Finn, who was fastening his seatbelt. From his expression, she could tell he’d made the connection. “Have Pammy text me a picture, and I’ll need the complete address on him. I have Carstens with me. We’ll check it out.” Shingleton was an unincorporated township about ten miles away. She started the SUV and nosed it out of the lot. “I need a description of Abernathy and his vehicle if he has one.”

  “He drives his mother’s, which I suspect is one of the reasons
she’s so concerned about his absence.” Mary reeled off the descriptions, adding, “I’ll follow up on the other two acquaintances.”

  Keira disconnected and pulled onto the road in front of the courthouse, squinting from the glare of sunlight on snow. “What are the chances that Pete Bielefeld is Yembley’s buddy from last night?”

  “The way the last several hours have gone?” Finn took sunglasses out of the inside pocket of his coat and put them on. “I’d say the odds are pretty good.”

  Chapter 4

  Finn wolfed down the remainder of the sandwich as they pulled into a narrow heavily rutted lane hemmed by frost-painted brush and trees. The house wasn’t visible from the road or from their position on the drive. If Bielefeld had selected the property for its privacy, he’d chosen well.

  Neither Finn nor Keira had been surprised when the information from Pammy had come while they were at the deli. There was no doubt that the man in the photo was the one who had been with Yembley at the bar last night.

  The drive led to a white clapboard farmhouse. The exterior hadn’t been touched in a couple decades and old paint curled up from the siding, giving peeks at the slate gray beneath. Thick plastic covered all the windows. Torn pieces flapped lazily in the breeze as they pulled to a stop in front of the place.

  “According to Pammy’s info Bielefeld is self-employed as a carpenter.”

  Finn scanned the three outbuildings on the property. A navy pick-up with rusted out wheel wells was parked next to an older white minivan outside the largest shed, which was in only slightly better shape than the house. “Wonder if that one is his workshop. Neither of those vehicles matches the Abernathy car.”