Chapter 25

Late afternoon, the cottonwoods loomed high above them as if stretching toward the foggy sky which mercilessly pelted them with icy rain. Laurel tucked her hair more firmly underneath her knit cap and shivered as she followed Huck's makeshift trail toward the river behind his cabin.

"I can do this," he said quietly. "I'll take several pictures."

"You shouldn't even be involved to this degree," she said, accepting that this field observation would equip her better than any other method.

At least they had eaten a warm meal before engaging in this pursuit. She'd finished up at Haylee Johnson's crime scene and headed back to Huck's for this experiment.

Aeneas bounded along happily next to her, sinking in the snow and then leaping out to sink down again. She wanted to grab him and put him onto the trail, but obviously, he was having fun, uncaring of the freezing rain thanks to the waterproof parka covering his slim body. She tucked her face deeper into her coat, the hammer and screwdriver heavy in her hand. Finally, they reached the river.

Huck turned and looked her over. "It's probably too cold out here for you."

She'd bundled up as much as possible with two pairs of socks, thick boots, long underwear, jeans, a sweater, and the heaviest parka he owned. The coat hung loosely on her, yet provided a surprising amount of warmth.

"I'm fine." She nodded at the implements in his hands. "Let's expedite this assessment."

"All right. We have a sledgehammer, an ax, and a spud bar," he noted. "You have a regular hammer and a screwdriver. Should you record this?"

She placed both the hammer and the screwdriver on an ice-covered rock. "Yes."

Water dripped down his face. "Did Ortega say how soon he'd get to the autopsy for Haylee Johnson?"

"No, but he said he'd put a rush on her." Laurel's heart ached for the young woman. "Fish and Wildlife had a tail on her from our office to her apartment, and they said she hadn't left."

"Obviously, she went out the back and eluded them," Huck said. "Monty has people pushing the warrant for her place right now. Hopefully they'll find a judge this afternoon."

One could hope. "I really need to get into her apartment," Laurel said.

Huck set down the sledgehammer and ax while holding the spud bar. "Agreed. Monty has two officers on the apartment now, making sure nobody goes in, and this time, they're covering the back as well."

His tone held a grittiness that she couldn't quite read, but she figured it didn't bode well for the officers who had lost Haylee the night before. Of course, it had been dark, so it probably wouldn't have been too difficult to avoid them if the young woman had tried. Had she gone to meet Jason Abbott? If so, had he drowned her in that freezing river?

Laurel pulled out her phone and clicked Record. "Captain Rivers is breaking the ice with what is called a spud bar." She looked closer at the implement. It had a long handle and a chisel at the end. There wasn't a lot to it.

He moved to the iced-over river, chose a spot, lifted the rod, and swung down. Ice cracked and snapped, flying in every direction. He continued with the device until he'd created a hole comparable in size to the one used to drown the victims.

Laurel recorded the action and then leaned closer, making sure to get every edge. The edges appeared to her to be more jagged than the ones found at either the Delta Rivers or the Haylee Johnson crime scene. Teri Bearing's crime scene had had smooth edges around the ice hole.

"I see," Laurel said. "That's not exactly right." They'd compare the pictures later, but so far the results weren't as expected.

"Let's try the ax." Huck placed the bar against a tree and reached for his ax.

Laurel's heartbeat began to thrum. If the killer had used an ax to break the ice, the recent murders would be tied much closer to Jason Abbott. He liked to use an ax on his victim's wrists, but what if he had turned that fantasy to the ice instead? Finally, she could see an actual tie between the current victims and Abbott.

Huck walked down the river a little way to another completely iced-over spot, hefted the ax, and swung it at the ice. He did so several times until he'd created the right-sized opening.

Laurel recorded him and moved closer, shivering in the freezing cold, her eyelashes feeling iced over. She leaned down to ensure the entire hole appeared onscreen. "Those indents are too wide and far apart." Disappointment clashed through her.

Huck nodded. "I know. I tried to hack closer and then farther away from each hit, but I'm not seeing the same pattern."

"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?"

Laurel rifled through a stack of unpaid bills on the counter between the small living room and the dingy-looking kitchen. "Based on the jewelry and clothing Melissa prefers, I'd say she has plenty of disposable income. She should have helped her niece more."

"I don't know," Officer Tso called from the bedroom where he rifled through drawers. "Haylee seemed pretty stuck on a serial killer. Melissa Cutting probably didn't like that about her niece."

Officer Jordan looked through a stack of magazines on the table.

Laurel didn't know any of these people well besides Monty, and she barely knew him. Her team was gone. She was the sole FBI agent in the search. It had been a long time since she'd felt this isolated and alone.

Monty moved to the fridge and opened the freezer. "Got them." He pulled out three frozen-looking plastic bags and gingerly extracted a journal from one.

"Good job." Laurel peered closer, disappointment clouding through her. She'd have to wait until they defrosted to read. "They're frozen, so let's deliver them to the lab."

Monty slid the journal back into the bag. "Officer Tso?"

"Coming, boss," Tso said, lumbering over to plunk an aluminum evidence locker on the counter. "This thing's heavy." He opened the lid.

Monty gingerly placed the three journals into the locker and then shut it, twisting the lock. "We'll keep looking for evidence that Abbott has been here, but you take this to the state crime lab now."

Laurel straightened her back. They'd need at least another hour to go through the rest of Haylee's apartment before they'd be finished. "Ask the techs to send me scanned copies as soon as possible without damaging the journals." She calculated how long it would take for them to thaw out. "They should be able to have something for me by tomorrow."

"They're behind at the lab," Monty reminded her.

"I don't care. We need these now. Abbott's on the loose, and we have to consider the possibility that he is not the killer of the three drowning victims." If not, she had no idea how the news of Haylee's death would affect him. While the media hadn't learned of the woman's death yet, too many people knew the truth. It wouldn't be long before the public was made aware.

She shrugged off the unease she felt at missing her team as well as Huck.

Monty opened the fridge and started scouting through the contents, his movements slow and his face pale. "I don't like that Haylee physically accosted you in front of the news media and now she's dead. Rachel's going to be a problem."

"Rachel is always a problem." Laurel moved toward a bookshelf in the living room.

Officer Tso patted the evidence box. "I should get going with this. Do you need me for the rest of the search?"

"No," Laurel said. They'd found what they needed. She doubted seriously that Jason Abbott had set foot in this apartment.

Monty nodded. "Take Officer Jordan with you. She's working on serious overtime."

The brunette rubbed a spot of dust off her chin. "I could use a break. Thanks."

Laurel looked around. "Let's make sure that Abbott hasn't been here." She was finding it difficult to read him and follow his path or trace his movements. Hopefully, the journals would illuminate her.

"I'll put a rush on these pages," Officer Tso said, following Officer Jordan out the door.

Laurel wished she could have opened one to read a passage or two, but since they were frozen, she couldn't risk it. Finally, she was a step closer to finding Jason Abbott.

Soon.