“Jake!” His name bursts out of me when I see him standing in the middle of the living room, holding his phone like he's getting ready to dial. “What are you doing?”
“I was getting ready to call you,” he says.
“I mean, what are you doing here?” I ask.
He stuffs his phone into his pocket and points behind him. “You drove my car from Cole's house. You don't have your car. I thought I'd come bring you to it.”
I let out a breath. “Oh. Thank you. Yeah, I didn't even think about that. I was actually just getting ready to leave.”
“Leave? Where are you going?” he asks.
My plan was to go back into the woods to test my new theory, but I can't tell him that. I'll have to shuffle my plans.
“I need to go up to the police station,” I tell him.
“The police station?”
“It's about the man,” I say quickly. “I forgot to ask LaRoche something the last time they brought me in.”
“I'll give you a ride up to your car. Ready to go?”
“Sure.” I grab the satchel I filled before getting dressed and sling it over my shoulder. “Let's go.”
We get into his car, and I peer back at the cabin as he pulls away from it.
“Something wrong?” Jake asks.
“Did you meet the guy who rented the cabin a few months ago?” I ask.
He glances over at me with a confused expression.
“What guy?”
“The man who came to repair the furnace said there was a guy who rented the place about six months ago but didn't stay the whole time.”
Jake presses his lips together in thought, then shakes his head.
“No. I didn't even realize anyone else had stayed here in years. He must not have been very social while he was here.”
“I wonder what he needed repaired,” I muse.
“Don't know, but old Clancy must not have done a very good job if the guy left early.”
“Maybe.”
We get to the main street of town, and Jake pulls up behind my car. He walks me to the driver's side and leans into the door as I settle into the seat.
“Let me know if you find out anything,” he says. “I don't like not knowing you're there when nobody knows what happened to that guy.”
“I will.”
He gives me a peck on the cheek and closes the door. Almost immediately, my phone rings. I put it on speaker and pull away from the curb.
“Why is Eric getting all the updates from you? Why don't I get to know anything?” Bellamy demands.
“Because he works for the FBI and can find things out for me,” I tell her.
“I know stuff. I’m a consultant! I can consult for you,” she argues.
“Can you help me access security camera footage and do a background check?” I ask.
“...No.”
“And there we go.”
“But I still want to know what's going on with you. I can help you… think,” she says.
“You're right. Maybe I'm too deep in this and am missing something you might see.”
“Lay it on me.”
I drive to the police station as I fill her in on Jake's father, the train footage, and the path through the woods, then what I'd learned so far about the man from the porch. I'm still talking as I sit at the front of the station, watching the doors to see if any of the officers leave.
“Holy shit,” she says once I finish.
“Yeah, that's pretty much the place I'm in right now, too.”
“Is Eric going to tell the rest of the team about any of this?” she asks.
“No. I don't want to get Creagan involved. Not yet, anyway. It might not be anything, and I don't want to blow the entire investigation by acting too soon. There's not enough to go on yet.”
“Just be careful.”
“I will. Look, I've got to go,” I tell her, starting to climb out of the car.
“Okay. Call me later.”
“I will. Bye.”
I feel a twinge of guilt at not being totally honest with her about the man on the porch, but I push it away. She's already worried enough. Besides, without knowing who he is or how he ended up on the porch, I don't know what kind of danger I could put Bellamy in by telling her. I learned a long time ago that information could be deadly. I can't put her at risk.
The receptionist looks up at me as I end the lobby and let the door swing closed behind me.
“Can I help you, Ms. Monroe?” she asks.
“I just need to talk with Chief LaRoche,” I tell her.
My eyes automatically swing over to the door, waiting for his usual appearance right after I summon him. But this time, the door stays closed.
“He isn't in the office right now. Is there something I can do for you?”
“No. Is Nicolas available?”
“Officer Greene is in the back. I'll see if he can take a minute to speak with you.”
“I'm sure he can. Thank you,” I say.
I slip past her and through the door into the back before she has a chance to stop me. Nicolas comes through a door as I'm heading down the hallway at a fast enough clip to avoid Esther. I do not put it past her to snatch me by the back of the coat if she can catch up.
“Ms. Monroe? What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I'm sorry, Officer Greene. I didn't think she would just come back,” Esther says.
“I have a few questions I need to ask you,” I say.
“I believe asking questions is my job,” he frowns.
“Actually, it's Chief LaRoche's job, but he's not here, so I'm going to have to settle for you. Besides, I'm not trying to do your job. I just want to settle my own curiosity,” I say.
And do my job.
He stares at me for a few seconds like he's trying to decide what to do, then nods.
“What is it you want to know?” he asks, gesturing into the room he just left.
I follow him into what turns out to be a small conference room and sit in one of the gray chairs at a round table.
“The woman whose body was found by the train tracks. What can you tell me about her?” I ask.
Nicolas's eyes narrow.
“Why do you want to know that?” he asks.
“Like I said, curiosity. You have to know the disappearances and murders are big news. And since I got wrapped up in it all the night I got here, I'm interested in finding out more,” I tell him.
“We already told you that man's shooting was a random event. It didn't have anything to do with the other case,” he says.
“Are you absolutely certain about that?” I try to needle him, to get him to reveal any bit of information I can use. Shooting? That’s new. “It seems to me you don't even know who that man really is, much less why he was here. So how can you totally discount his being the responsibility of the same killer?”
“The other victims all have ties to the area. Cristela Jordan came from the next town over and was well-known in town. She was up at Jake's bar most weekends. Ron Murdock is a stranger. They have nothing to do with each other.” He leans across the table toward me. “Look, Ms. Monroe. I can understand your interest. But I assure you, there's nothing for you to worry about. The shooting was an unfortunate accident. It doesn't have anything to do with the other cases. As for those, the investigation is ongoing, and we can't discuss it. Just know we are zeroing in on the truth.”
His voice sounds slimy and insincere. It's the way officers talk when they don't want to admit to someone who has already confronted them that they haven't gotten any further. But something he said stands out to me.
“An unfortunate accident?” I ask.
“What else could it be?” he asks, but not before a flicker of undecipherable emotion crosses his eyes. “Cold weather means easy shots around here. But hunters don't want to admit they're out when the deer aren't in season.”