Chapter 12

"You were right. No missing person's report for Harris Walker was ever filed," Sheriff Griffin said as he leaned back in his chair. Bel had returned to the station after the autopsy to brief her boss on the victim's identity, and when she mentioned her suspicions about the lack of a missing persons, he'd taken it upon himself to confirm.

"Lina estimates he's been deceased for approximately a decade?" he asked.

"That's her guess," Bel said.

"I'm sure we crossed paths at some point, but I don't remember him." He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "To be gone that many years and have no one miss you. I can't imagine anything worse than no one caring about you enough to notice your absence."

"Well, that'll never be you." Bel gripped her boss' shoulder, and he patted her fingers. "But how is it possible that nobody realized he was missing? He didn't have family, but he must've had a job or drinking buddies or something. How did no one realize he was gone?"

"Walker owned the farmhouse and property outright and the utilities were on, so there weren't missed payments to alert anyone.I found no employment records, so no boss to notice his absence either. If he had friends or acquaintances, they never voiced their concerns. It's a shame, but it seems he had no one."

"Lina believes the killer let the body sit to dry out before he built it into the wall," Bel said. "He would've had access to Walker's phone. He could've made excuses to his contacts for the disappearance to avoid people snooping around."

"That's possible," Griffin said. "But whatever the reason, Walker died unnoticed. It's a tragedy, but it might help us. Someone was paying the property taxes and utility bills to ensure the farmhouse appeared lived in. I'm going to make some calls and track down who was making the payments."

"It's an expensive way to cover up a murder," Bel said. "Paying bills for a decade, if not longer, because you don't want anyone finding the body? There must be another reason for the payments. Walker didn't have family, so who else would be interested in the land's upkeep?"

"It made sense when we assumed Walker was the killer, but now, I'm genuinely confused," Griffin said. "Most people hate paying their own bills. Why would the killer assume someone else's?"

"Maybe because they needed property that wasn't in their name," Bel said, a theory popping into her brain. "The farmhouse looked lived in. Dishes in the sink. Food in the fridge. What if the killer spent the past few years living there? Someone would've noticed Walker's disappearance if his house seemed abandoned. At some point, someone would have stopped by, seen the cobwebs, and realized something was amiss, so I think the killer's been squatting there."

"Living with his victim in the wall." Griffin shuddered.

"I know." Bel grimaced. "Yesterday, we assumed Walker still lived there, but now that we suspect it was someone else, I want to go back with fresh eyes. I might have missed something."

"Good idea, but wait for Gold," her boss said. "She's flying home today, and if you're right about the killer living in Walker's house, I don't want you there alone. Chances are he fled the minute the tree fell, but just in case he's still in our midst, I want someone watching your back."

"How was your Thanksgiving?" Olivia locked her car door and hugged Bel in the farmhouse's driveway.

"It was great, but short," Bel answered. "After their initial surprise, my family got along with Eamon. Unfortunately, we didn't get the entire weekend with them, but maybe that's a blessing. My sisters were dead set on playing bad cop/worse cop with him."

"He would've been fine. Not even your sisters could intimidate that man… but I get it. I'm an only child, and I'm still worried about introducing Ewan to my parents. What if they don't like him? I can't marry a man my family dislikes."

"Marry?" Bel paused halfway up the porch steps.

"Eventually, I mean," Olivia said.

"Do you want to get married?" Bel asked.

"To him, or in general?"

"Both."

"Yes, I want to get married. I'm in my thirties, so I'm done with the dating for fun," Olivia said. "And when you know, you know."

"Then your family will love him." Bel rubbed her friend's back. "We all like him. I can't imagine why they wouldn't."

"True, but he's nothing like the men from my hometown."

"Neither is Eamon." Bel smirked as she remembered Giselle's expression when he brushed past her.

"Eamon isn't like anyone from anywhere," Olivia said. "Sometimes I wonder if he's human. I mean, how does a man even grow that tall and handsome… and scary?"

Bel froze before the front door. Had Griffin said something to her partner? Had Eamon? Was Olivia catching on to the unnatural occurrences surrounding Bajka's reclusive millionaire?

"Oh, I'm sorry, that came out wrong." Olivia grabbed her hand. "It was a joke. I just meant that he would definitely surprise your family. Ewan would too, but they're both unique individuals."

"You're fine," Bel said, relieved her partner was merely joking about their love lives. If only she knew the reasons Ewan and Eamon were so striking. "Was your Thanksgiving fun?" she asked as they broke open the crime scene seal and entered the damaged farmhouse.

"It was," Olivia sighed. "It was relaxing being with my family, so I was bummed when Griffin called. We can't have nice things in this town, can we?" she laughed.

"This is what we get for poking into Anne Blaubart because we were bored."

"Stop." Olivia's laugh escaped like a squawk as she shoved her partner.

"Next time we're bored, we should join a book club instead." Bel bumped her back with her hip. "But until then, we have a body in a wall to keep us busy." She gave Gold a quick rundown of what they'd learned so far.

"I noticed bulkhead doors when we walked in," Olivia said as the duo stood before the collapse. "That would be a smart place to hide a body while the killer remodeled."

"But the corpse was mummified. Cellars are usually damp."

"Not if you use fans, a dehumidifier, and a heater. An old house like this? Those items were probably already on hand."

"Where was it?" Bel ventured back out into the wind.

"Right side." Olivia pointed, and the women circled the house until bulkhead doors came into view.

"It's locked." Bel nudged the thick chain with her boot.

"Deputy Rollo might have bolt cutters," Olivia said. Griffin had ordered the department's newest hire to accompany them, and while Bel didn't expect trouble, she appreciated her boss' concern. Both detectives had a knack for finding danger in the least expected places.

Olivia jogged over to where the officer sat in his car, and seconds later, they both returned, a bolt cutter in the attractive deputy's fist.

"Will that be all?" Rollo asked as he snapped the lock with ease.

"That's it, thanks," Bel said. "It's cold out. You might as well wait in your car. We'll call if we need help."

"Detectives." He nodded before returning to his vehicle.

"Gosh, he's handsome," Olivia said.

"Are we back on that?" Bel asked as she pulled the cellar doors open.

"I introduced him to Violet at The Espresso Shot while you were on vacation," Olivia said as she followed her partner into the darkness. "He definitely thought she was cute. I'm not sure how she felt, but she was in a rush. She and Ewan have that commission they're working on, so she might've just been preoccupied."

"I think you missed your calling as a matchmaker." Bel rolled her eyes as she found a string connected to a single bulb, and tugging it, she scanned the cellar. "I was expecting a dirt room, but this looks sealed." She ran her fingers over the concrete floors. "Depending on what time of year Walker was killed, leaving the doors open slightly would allow for decent airflow. Put large fans and heaters in the corner, and this would've become an oven. I think you're right. This might be where the killer mummified Walker."

"Did he mummify him on purpose?" Olivia asked. "Or was he just trying to stop the stench while he rebuilt the wall?"

"I don't know," Bel said as they climbed the stairs to the yard. The cellar was bare, and while forensics would want to do a sweep, she doubted anything remained after all these years. "It depends on if Walker's death was an accident or premeditated, I guess. Did the killer arrive here prepared, or was he scrambling after the fact? I'm leaning towards an accident because I think the killer cared for Walker. Why else bury him so close to where he'd spend most of his waking hours?"

"Uff." Olivia shuddered. "It freaks me out thinking about human remains watching over me. This case is bizarre. He kills someone just to live in his house?"

"Maybe." Bel climbed the porch steps and held the door open for her partner, shrugging as Gold passed her. "Maybe not. Which is why I want to look around. There's a truck outside, but no dead grass below it, which means someone has been driving it."

"Or at least changing its parking spot," Olivia said.

"That's an idea," Bel said as she aimed for the second floor. Despite the damaged wall, the house had been deemed structurally sound, but she hadn't ventured upstairs when Walker was first found.

"This bathroom looks used," Olivia said as they passed the hallway restroom. "Toothbrush in the holder, and a half-empty toothpaste and mouthwash." She flipped on the light and pointed to the sink as Bel followed her lead. "Tissues are in the trash, too."

"Most of these rooms seem unused, except for this one," Bel said as she wandered into the master bedroom. "There's a dent in the pillow and dirty clothes in the hamper."

"No hairs on the pillow, though." Olivia leaned down to study the bedding. "No hairs anywhere. I guess our squatter was a neat freak."

"Yeah…" Bel trailed off, the comment nagging at her. "Does it strike you as too clean?" She walked to the hamper. "This house is spotless and organized. The toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash all sat in a row. The hanging towels were uniform. This bed is made. There are no hairs, no dust, no fingerprints, yet the closet door is open, and the hamper is a mess. What person obsessed with cleanliness and order would leave their laundry basket so haphazard?"

"Maybe he fled in a rush after packing?" Olivia suggested. "If the killer lived in this home, he probably strove to keep it clean in case he ever had to flee. He could vanish at the drop of a hat, leaving nothing of himself behind."

"Hmmm." With a gloved hand, Bel nudged the closet door to reveal an indent in the carpet. "Or this was purposely left open," she said.

"What do you mean?" Olivia crossed the room to check what Bel was studying.

"This indent. The door hasn't been shut in a long time. The house is neat, but this closet was left chaotic. Almost as if someone wanted potential intruders to notice the dirty laundry and assume someone lived here. It makes sense. No one noticed Walker was missing, and his house appearing lived in would discourage suspicion."

"What are you saying?" Olivia asked. "Everything is for show?"

"I don't know." Bel stood up and made a beeline for the stairs, her partner rushing to keep up. When they reached the first floor, she aimed for the kitchen before stopping short in the damaged living room. "Do you see that?" She pointed to the wall.

"See what?"

"The outlets." She walked to the one beside the television. "This is a smart outlet. They have multiple uses, but one is security for when people are out of town but want to appear at home. You program the switch to activate at certain times of the day, and whatever's plugged into the outlet turns on."

"This one connects to the lamp and the television," Olivia said, spinning toward the windows. "The curtains are sheer, but you can see light through them. Anyone outside would see the flashes from the TV and assume someone was home. It seems excessive out here in the middle of nowhere, though. The only people driving this far are those who would knock. The TV wouldn't convince them if no one answered the door."

"I don't know." Bel moved into the kitchen. "People use them for other reasons, but it fits the staged hamper theory."

"You mentioned there was food in the fridge," Olivia said as she leaned over the sink. "Dirty dishes. Someone was eating here." She picked up a bowl and held it up to the light. "Or someone wanted us to believe they were. Bel, does this look weird to you?"

She glanced at the bowl. "It looks like food remnants."

"But I think it's paint." Olivia swiped a finger over the ceramic. "Someone painted this to appear dirty. What on earth is going on?"

"Let me see." Bel took the dish from her and dragged her fingertips around its curves. "You're right. It's paint, not food. This house has been staged." She gripped the refrigerator door and pulled it open. Cool air floated out, and she studied the eggs, the carton of milk, and the various condiments. Apples and lemons wrapped in clear bags sat in the drawers, and she dug out an apple. "It's décor," she said as she twisted the fake fruit. It appeared real with the plastic bag and drawer obscuring its flaws, but there was no hiding the wooden sheen up close.

"And there are tiny holes in these eggs." Olivia held the carton up for Bel to examine. "Someone hollowed these out."

"Everything in here is a prop." Bel unscrewed the milk bottle, and unsurprisingly, she found watery paint instead of milk. She then opened the freezer to find a stack of frozen dinners, but one rattle told her the boxes were empty.

"This is all for show." She re-stacked the packages. "This house tricks people into believing it's lived in, but everything is fake."

"It's clean, though, so someone must stop by occasionally," Olivia said.

"And the car outside has been moved to keep the grass from dying," Bel agreed. "But everything else operates without needing someone physically present on the property. Whoever killed Walker went to great lengths to convince people he's still alive."