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’m not either, but we’ll compare. What if we used a smaller ax?”
“Maybe,” Huck said doubtfully. “I can acquire one later today.”
They then tested the sledgehammer, the smaller hammer, and finally, the screwdriver. Nothing created holes similar to those used to drown the victims. The indentations were too far apart and not symmetrical enough.
Laurel stopped recording and leaned against a bare tree, her feet numb. “I can’t believe none of those worked.”
“Perhaps the smaller ax? We need something sharp that will create even cuts.”
She tried to think through what she remembered from each scene. “How do you get an even distribution of cut marks if you’re hacking at ice?”
Huck’s head jerked up. “Wait a minute—I have an idea. Do you want to come inside?”
She looked back toward the trail and couldn’t imagine trudging down it again. “How about I stay here with Aeneas and you hurry?”
“Good plan.” He grabbed the various weapons and moved into a jog. “Stay, Aeneas,” he said.
Aeneas yipped happily, standing by Laurel in his heavy coat with even his ears covered.
“Thanks,” she said.
Aeneas nudged her leg and then moved over to sniff at the various holes in the ice. The wind died down, leaving the area silently frozen. Craggy rocks jutted up from the river through the ice, showing a dangerous path from one bank to the other. Laurel trembled and tried to force warmth to her extremities.
Huck soon appeared, running easily along the trail, his hands empty.
“You didn’t bring anything?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah, I did.” He looked down at his boots.
She glanced down to see a rubber webbing over the top of his boots and buckled around the back. “What is that?”
He lifted his boot. “I’m wearing crampons.”
She stared at the steel spikes extending from his boots. “Crampons?”
“Yeah,” Huck said. “We use them for walking across ice and up glaciers or icy mountains to rescue people. I didn’t even think of these.”
She’d seen climbers using them on a documentary set in Iceland. “Aren’t they made to grip the ice?”
“Yeah.” Huck walked toward an untouched ice field over the river. “Keep in mind, all of these kills have been near the shore where the ice isn’t as thick. They haven’t been in the middle of a body of water.”
He gingerly stepped onto the ice, easily keeping his balance.
She drew out her phone to record him.
He lifted one powerful leg and smashed it down on the ice. It cracked but didn’t break. “Huh,” he murmured. Then he started jumping up and down with both feet. One foot crashed through, and he leaned back, immediately kicking and stomping hard to form a circle. Then he stepped off the ice.
Laurel gasped and moved closer, making sure to capture the entire area before zeroing in on the hole. “That’s it,” she whispered. “The cuts are symmetrical and deep.” She looked up at him. “That took a lot of strength and power.”
“And anger,” he said. “I could see somebody in a frenzy doing this.”
She gulped and backed away from the dangerous hole in the ice. “So can I.” So the killer used crampons with the first and third murder, but not the second. Was he unprepared for some reason?
Huck’s phone trilled, and he pulled it from his pocket to press to his ear. “Rivers.” He listened, his gaze lighting. “Good, thanks.” He clicked off.
“What is it?” Laurel asked, shivering violently now.
“The warrant for Haylee Johnson’s apartment just came in. Let’s get some hot tea in you, and we’ll go search her place.”
Laurel needed to get her hands on those diaries. “You may not accompany me, Huck.” She had no notion of who was providing him information about the case, but he couldn’t be involved. She’d have to search Haylee’s apartment with Monty.
Pressing a button on her phone, she lifted the device to her ear.
“Hey, boss,” Nester answered. “Before you ask, the Bearings are set to land in about an hour.”
“Good work, Nester. Huck will have Fish and Wildlife meet them at their plane.” She clicked off.
Huck’s eyebrows rose. “I will?”
She smiled. “Please? Then have an officer stay on them all night. I’ll interview them tomorrow morning. The mayor is not to leave his home until I speak with him.” Tonight, she would read those diaries.
Finally, she could track down Jason Abbott before he killed again.
* * *
Haylee Johnson had lived in a sad, one-bedroom apartment approximately twenty minutes away from the Genesis Valley Community Church in unincorporated land. The building held twenty apartments and had been erected probably in the seventies. The green shag carpet felt sticky against Laurel’s boots, and the smell from dirty dishes stacked in the sink made her stomach roil. The heat had been turned low, most likely because the young woman lacked income. She truly had lost everything when Jason Abbott had been arrested.
Monty turned on all the lights, but the apartment remained rather dark. He opened the drawers in the kitchen and pulled them out, looking inside with his flashlight. “Thanks for meeting me here. I’m surprised Haylee’s aunt let her live like this. Melissa Cutting is a partner in a big law firm. She’s loaded, right?”