Chapter 13

"That's bizarre," Griffin said after Bel finished recounting what she and Olivia found. "But so is what I learned, and it makes a lot more sense now. I called the electric company and the local tax agents. They requested warrants, but I got the judge to sign one quickly, and then both confirmed who was paying Walker's bills."

"Who?" the detectives asked in unison.

"Harris Walker," Griffin said.

"Walker?" Bel repeated, convinced that her phone's speaker had distorted her boss's voice.

"Yes, Walker," he confirmed. "He was paying his own bills."

"How does a dead man pay bills?" Olivia asked. "Unless he had an automatic deposit set up, but after years, wouldn't something trigger suspicion?"

"He didn't have autopay," Bel said without waiting for the sheriff's confirmation. "The bills were paid from Walker's account for the same reason this house was staged. Someone didn't want us learning Walker was dead."

"So whoever killed him obviously knew him well enough to access his accounts," Griffin said.

"Or they hacked them," Bel said. "I'm starting to think the accidental death theory of mine is useless. This is too elaborate and expensive a homicide to be about hiding a body, because unless Walker had unlimited funds, someone was depositing money into his account to make the payments."

"I agree," Griffin said. "If this was about getting away with murder, why pay bills for a decade? I understand paying for a year to ensure a clean escape window for the killer, but even then, I doubt anyone would've found Walker. No one would look inside the walls, and no body, no crime."

"It might be about the house," Olivia said. "Or the property. Is there something here worth killing for?"

"No," Griffin said. "That land is worthless. It's why developers never expanded that section of Bajka, and why Walker could afford to own it outright. Everything of value is either in town or part of the Reale Estate. No one would murder someone and pay their bills for that property."

"Why is it useless?" Olivia asked.

"I'm no expert, but I believe it's because of the rocks and soil. It's not ideal for farming or buildings. To develop the land would cost a lot, but since it isn't near anything of importance, most developers have zero interest in acquiring it."

"So no rumors of buried treasure," Bel joked.

"Definitely not," Griffin answered.

"Okay, so it's not about the house or the property," Bel said. "What if it's about the farmhouse's location? We're close to the next town over, correct?"

"Yes," Griffin confirmed. "It's probably a ten-minute drive, whereas it's over thirty to return to anything significant in Bajka."

"Olivia, can you pull up the GPS?" Bel asked since her phone was the one making the call.

"Sure." Gold tapped her cell's screen before placing it on the table. "We're here." She pointed to the little blue circle pinging their location.

"Okay, so if we zoom out…" Bel trailed off as she moved the digital map until she had a decent view of the area.

"I can't imagine the where is important either," Griffin said. "Mostly dirt roads lead from the farmhouse to Bajka, and on the opposite end of the property, there's just a two-lane road that stretches for miles. Walker's land borders it on one side, and I think undeveloped woods line the other."

"You're correct," Bel said. "That road doesn't even have a gas station. There's nothing—" She fell silent when she saw it.

"What?" Griffin and Gold asked simultaneously.

"It runs parallel to the Walker land, and there's nothing out there except trees, making the drive extremely private until it dumps out onto a major highway." Bel's finger traced the map to where the road ended. "You can get almost anywhere from this highway." She zoomed out to illustrate how a car could easily reach dozens of throughways from that one intersection.

"But what does the highway have to do with our murder?" Griffin asked.

"Acres of private property with a dead man's name on the deed, easy access to major expressways, and an undeveloped road that intersects with abandoned land is the perfect place to hide something… especially for products you wish to distribute," Bel said. "No neighborhoods line that road. No businesses. Just Walker's property, and a direct shot to highways that lead anywhere in the country."

She fell silent, but no one spoke. Olivia stared at the map as if she was trying to piece together how Bel's explanation might work, but it was Griffin's silence that weighed heaviest on the trio. His pause was wrought with horror, and his reaction confirmed what Bel knew in her gut. This unsettling conclusion was to blame for the man in the wall.

"What better place to hide guns or drugs than on property that doesn't belong to you on land no one wants in a town nobody's looking at," Griffin finally spoke. "You're right. That highway makes Walker's property ideal. No one would suspect an elderly loner from a smaller town to be housing illegal goods."

"That would explain why the killer paid the bills from his accounts," Bel said. "He needed land that wouldn't tie back to his organization, and it would be easier to operate without Walker living here. They probably hid him in the walls simply to keep his body from being accidentally discovered, thus putting their operation at risk. It would also explain why they dried him out before they wrapped him in plastic. It was a professional hit."

"But Bajka doesn't have a drug or gun problem," Olivia interrupted. "Of course, there's the occasional incident, but nothing drastic enough to suggest our town is harboring a distribution warehouse."

"That might be why we don't have a drug problem," Griffin said. "Law enforcement doesn't look where it isn't needed. Keep Bajka clean, and no one would suspect that's where the drugs are coming from."

"But the minute people start overdosing, police hunt for the dealers," Bel said. "I realize this is only a theory. We don't have proof that Walker's death is connected to anything illegal, but Sheriff, something's wrong with this house."

"Is Deputy Rollo still there?" Griffin asked, and the detectives confirmed. "Good. Wait with him until I get there. When this was just a murder, I assumed the killer fled the second that tree fell, but if we're dealing with a cartel or gangs, those men won't leave easily. They won't let their product fall into our hands, and if they suspect you two know what's going on, they'll come for you."

By the time backup arrived at the farmhouse, the property was swarming with reporters, the horde straining against the crime scene tape like vultures fighting over a carcass.

"I don't like this." Griffin glared at the vans as he joined Bel, Olivia, and Deputy Rollo. "It was bad enough when we had a murdered man trapped in a wall, but if we're dealing with drugs, the news coverage worries me. By now, whoever killed Walker knows we found him, and this will paint targets on our backs."

Bel swallowed as a cameraman strained to get a better view of their conversation, and her fingers twitched involuntarily for her phone. The urge to call Eamon and beg him to stand watch was nearly impossible to ignore. She hadn't realized how much his presence had bolstered her bravery in both the Darling and Hyde cases until she felt the reporters' cameras tighten their focus on her face, but now that he was absent, the bravado bled from her veins. She wasn't afraid. She'd chosen this life, and plunging headlong into death and danger was second nature, but if they were dealing with the cartel or a dangerous gang, she'd prefer the devil guard her back.

As if sensing her need for him, her phone vibrated with a text.

Eamon

I just saw you on television. There should be rules about letting detectives that hot be on the news. Every man watching will be drooling over you, and I'm going to end up in a lot of fights.

Bel rolled her eyes, a smile sneaking onto her lips, and she wondered if his senses had read her anxiety through the camera shots. He wasn't prone to jealousy, a fact he clearly exhibited when Alessandro Gianni had flirted with her at L'Oasis, so she guessed he was trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. It had worked.

Bel

You're ridiculous. No one is drooling over me.

Eamon

I am. Cerberus too. Big sloppy drools. You've been busy, so the only time we see you is on TV.

Bel

Unfortunately, you'll have to suffer a while longer. This case just took a turn, and I don't know when I'll be home. Can you watch Cerberus for me?

Eamon

Do I need to be worried?

Even though they were only words on a screen, she could practically hear the shift in his voice.

Bel

I don't know.

Eamon

One call, and I'll come for you.

Bel smiled as she traced the curved letters of his text.

Bel

I know.

Eamon

And, of course, Cerberus can stay with me. You never need to ask.

She started to type out a thank you, but her phone vibrated again, cutting her off.

Eamon

I require the company since you've abandoned me for the fame of television.

Bel

I repeat. You're ridiculous.

Eamon

And you're beautiful when you smile at your phone.

She glanced up, realizing he was watching her on the live footage, and if the situation weren't so serious, she would wave at the camera for him.

Eamon

Call me if you need me, Detective. Be safe.

"I think we found an entrance to the property," Bel said as she crouched before a mess of tire tracks. "There's a hidden pull-off on Walker's side of the road. It's barely visible until you're on top of it, so even if there were other drivers, our killer could vanish without being seen… but the surrounding foliage isn't damaged." Her eyes traced a tire track until it vanished into the grass. "It's just the tire tracks here in the dirt."

"A pull-off isn't evidence of a crime, though," Griffin said through their phone connection. After he'd outlined their plan of attack, the officers split up into teams to search Walker's land, but after hours, this pull-off was the only thing of interest they'd discovered.

"Most roads have them," he continued. "I don't know, Emerson. Were we too hasty in our theory? Are we blowing a weird homicide way out of proportion?"

"It's easy to ask that after the Darling case," Bel said, pinching the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could search the grass for signs of recent travel. "I've asked it myself, but even if drugs or guns aren't involved, there's something wrong here."

"I know," Griffin conceded. "I feel it too."

"We have a few hours before it gets dark. Let's keep looking."

"We'll give it until sundown," the sheriff said. "I don't want—hold on, I'm getting another call." He put her on hold, and Bel wandered through the surrounding underbrush, but if anyone had driven through here, the land didn't remember.

"Emerson?" Griffin's voice sounded so suddenly in her ear that she flinched.

"Still here," she said.

"Gold's team found a barn. I'll share the location."

"Thanks." Bel hung up and waited for the location ping before she and her team loaded back into the squad cars. It took them twenty minutes to reach the barn, and Bel couldn't help but notice that while it was far from the road, it was an easy drive. Other sections of the property were nearly untraversable, but this was a straight shot from the pull-off. Anyone who'd driven this stretch before could easily do so in the dark.

"Did you go inside?" Bel asked as she hopped out of the car and walked to where her partner and boss waited.

"Yes," Olivia said. "It's empty."

Bel cursed. "I'd hoped this was what we were looking for."

"It still might be," Olivia said. "I don't understand how it works, but a deputy knows a little about electricity. A family member is an electrician, and he says the barn is connected to the power lines. He thinks it's wired to siphon from the town, and it looks like they knew what they were doing. It's not a hack job that you'd associate with someone stealing power to avoid paying bills."

Bel's intuition pricked at her partner's words, and by the weighted glance her boss threw her, the same thought was running through his brain.

"What's that look?" Olivia's gaze flicked between them.

"Cannabis farm," Griffin answered.

"They require a lot of light to cultivate," Bel added. "Most illegal cannabis farms steal electricity since the excessive usage usually tips off the authorities." She squinted at the barn as if she might suddenly gain laser vision to see through its walls. "You think it's underground, don't you? That's why the barn's empty… it fits your drug theory, but if this was a farm lucrative enough to kill over, why is it sitting here unprotected?"

"We found the body yesterday morning, and it's now late afternoon," Griffin said. "The minute the electric company spotted Walker, the killer would've known our finding this place would be a matter of time. This location is burned, so I wonder if they packed up and fled."

"There's a chance they didn't destroy everything, though." Bel started for the barn. "We need to search for hidden entrances."

"Do you really think this is a cannabis farm?" Olivia asked as she jogged to keep up.

"I honestly don't know," Bel said. "It could be anything. Like a climate-controlled room for stolen art or illegal apartments."

"I would rather it be art than drugs," Olivia said. "But there's only one way to find out."

The partners entered the barn as Griffin instructed the gathered officers to stay outside unless the detectives asked for help. If this was a crime scene, they'd already altered its integrity with their presence, and he wanted to minimize the disruptions until they confirmed that this was a wild goose chase.

"If there's a farm, it'll be below us," Bel said as Griffin joined them.

"When we searched the barn, we found nothing that looked like a trapdoor," Olivia said.

"It wouldn't be that easy." Griffin crouched beside a discarded tractor tire. He studied it for a moment and then shoved it, but to the trio's dismay, it slid begrudgingly across the floor.

"All right, this is just a tire, but you get my point," he continued. "The entrance won't be easily stumbled upon."

"It might even be trick floorboards." Bel stomped her foot, praying the echo would prove the space below her was hollow. "But to play devil's advocate, could that stolen electricity have been used to power something the killer removed before we found the barn?"

"I considered that, but look at the floor," Griffin said. "If something was here, it would've left scratches or caused a decolorization where it blocked sunlight from the floorboards. Nothing here has been moved in years."

"So I'm marching around for no reason." Bel smirked as she stomped on another floorboard, and while the floor remained unaffected, a hook hanging from the wall shifted ever so slightly. She studied it, wondering if it was merely a loose nail. The barn was old. Loose nails probably studded the building, but she moved closer before slamming her foot down again. The hook vibrated, and with hope flooding her chest, Bel captured it in her fist and pulled.

With a rush of air, floorboards at the rear of the barn popped open, and Griffin cursed. For a moment, he teetered on the edge of the hidden entrance, but he stumbled backward, throwing Bel a wide-eyed glare once he regained his footing.

"Oh my god," Olivia whispered as all three officers withdrew their weapons and flicked off their safeties, but as Bel reached the raised floorboards, Griffin caught her elbow.

"I'll go." His tone warned her not to argue.

"Yes, sir." She retreated, and when the trio was in place, he pulled the trapdoor open.

Bel held her breath, but after a tense moment, nothing jumped out of the dark opening. Only stillness greeted them, and taking that as his cue, Griffin ventured down the wooden steps.

"Clear," his voice echoed in the darkness, and a second later, a light flared to life. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, but the dimly lit room wasn't what they'd expected.

"That's it?" Olivia asked as the detectives started down the stairs. "A tiny dirt cellar."

"Not exactly," Griffin said, pointing as the women joined him. Their gazes followed his fingers, and Bel wasn't sure if it was her voice or Olivia's that gasped at the sight of the chained door before them.

"Whoever killed Walker really didn't want anyone finding this." Bel stepped forward and placed her palm on the door, only to recoil in surprise. "It's cold." She threw her boss a look. "A cannabis farm wouldn't be cold."

"What is going on here…?" Griffin rested his hand beside hers. "Officer Rollo?" he called over the radio. "Do you still have those bolt cutters?"

A minute later, the deputy jogged down the stairs and severed the heavy chains. Bel reached for the handle as the handsome officer retreated, but Griffin stopped her.

"I'll go first," he ordered yet again. "Watch my back."

She nodded, readying her firearm, and he pulled the door wide.

A blast of frigid air collided with their faces, and Bel flinched at the harshness, her eyes stinging at the temperature. "That almost hurts." She rubbed her face to ease the sting.

"I don't like this." Griffin aimed his flashlight at the awaiting abyss.

"It's too cold for anyone to be hiding in there," Bel said, the need to see what the darkness hid overpowering her wariness. Something inside this frozen room was worth killing for, and it wasn't a cannabis farm.

"Stay close," Griffin ordered. "Gold and Rollo, keep the door open."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison, and he and Bel stepped into the cold.

"It's a walk-in freezer," Bel said, her breath forming delicate clouds before her mouth. "Why is there a walk-in freezer in the middle of nowhere?"

Griffin's flashlight swept over her, and she saw the same confusion plastered on his face. He didn't answer, but how could he? This discovery was the last thing they'd expected.

"I wonder if there's a light in—uff." Bel tripped as her boot collided with something solid.

"You okay?" Griffin grabbed her biceps, his strength keeping her from falling on her face.

"There's something on the ground." She aimed her flashlight at the floor, pain radiating through her toes from the impact, and when the narrow tunnel of light hit the object in her path, her heart froze as icy as the air.

"Griffin," she whispered, her voice small like a child calling for her father. "It's a girl."

"What?" Her boss yanked her protectively against his chest, but there was no danger in this freezer. Not for Bel, at least. For the kneeling girl, though? It had been a death sentence.

"My god." Griffin's voice shook when he saw her. She knelt before their feet, a girl who couldn't be older than twenty-five, and she was frozen solid. She wore a sweater and jeans, but her garments were useless against the ice in this freezer. Her death would not have been quick. She knew what was coming for her, and sickness roared through Bel at the memory of the chain Rollo had cut from the door.

"Did she die elsewhere, or was she locked in here to freeze?" Griffin whispered, as if speaking would wake the dead.

"Only Lina can tell us the cause of death," Bel started, but then something lying before the girl's knees caught her attention. She aimed her flashlight at it, and realizing what it was, she sucked in a breath so icy that she coughed at the pain. "She was alive. Whether she was locked in here by accident or on purpose, she entered this freezer alive."

"What makes you say that?" Griffin asked.

"The matchsticks." She tapped her toe beside the pile of charred matches before the girl's knees. "They've been burned to stubs. She probably tried to use these to locate the door, but it seems she ran out." Bel cursed. This girl had been trapped alone in the dark with only a handful of matches. She'd used them to attempt an escape, but she'd died feet from salvation, and that reality settled a cold into Bel's bones far more excruciating than the chill of the air.

"Olivia? Please don't let that door shut on us," she begged, her voice shaking against her will. The thought was ridiculous. Dozens of officers stood outside. They would notice if she and Griffin never walked out of this barn, but she was suddenly afraid of freezing to death.

"What's going on?" Gold asked. "Is there really a body?"

"Yes," Bel called. "We need Lina. There's a—" her voice lodged painfully in her throat, and this time the sickness couldn't be shoved down. She couldn't control the visceral reaction, for when she'd twisted toward the door to address her partner, her flashlight shifted from the dead girl to the back of the freezer. The beam of light was dim. It barely illuminated the darkness, but as it swung across the floor, it caught on something resting on the ground, and the sight was so horrifying that Bel turned on her heels and fled the freezer.