Little Girl Gone (An Afton Tangler Thriller #1)(26)

“Our next ride is here,” Afton said to Max. She’d been bumped back to reality. Back to investigating a dead baby.

Max pivoted his head around, looking slightly unsettled. He seemed to be trying to take stock of where they were, and if they’d actually landed safely. “Okay,” he said.

Afton handed her helmet and headset to the pilot and said, “Thanks for the lift.”

“I wish it were under better circumstances,” the pilot replied. “But we’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

Afton and Max ploughed through ankle-deep snow toward the waiting deputies, the warmth of their cruisers, and the sadness they would probably find at the end of this journey. As they neared the cars, the taller of the two men walked out to greet them. He was an imposing figure, rangy and tough-looking in his khaki winter uniform, a Colt .45 stuck on his hip. He offered a gnarled hand.

“I’m Sheriff Jed Burney,” the man said with a deep growl. “This is my deputy Bill Gail.” He shook hands first with Afton and then Max. Then Afton and Max introduced themselves to Gail.

“Sorry to call you down here like this,” Sheriff Burney said. “On such short notice.”

“No,” Max said. “We appreciate it.” He cocked an eye at Burney. “You’ve been briefed on our case? The Darden kidnapping?”

The sheriff’s Smoky Bear hat dipped forward. “We have.”

“That’s why we called you guys first,” Deputy Gail said.

Max looked like he was about to say something, but didn’t.

The sheriff hitched at his belt. “I suppose we best get to it.”

Afton and Max piled into the sheriff’s cruiser—Max in front and Afton forced to ride “perp” in the backseat. Sheriff Burney began an immediate rundown of what he knew so far as Deputy Gail followed behind in the second cruiser.

“The baby was found by a couple of hunters in a woods just north of town,” said the sheriff as they spun down a two-lane road, the snow-covered farm fields stretching out on either side of them. “We got the call maybe an hour and a half ago.”

“There are deer around here?” Max asked. He was a city guy.

“Oh, sure,” the sheriff said. “There’re still corncobs laying around in the fields. The deer come out, paw around, and uncover ’em.”

“Corn-fed venison,” Afton said.

Sheriff Burney chuckled. “Except deer hunting season is over. These boys were out after smaller stuff. You know, raccoons, badgers, opossums.”

“Are your hunters still at the crime scene?” Afton asked.

“Right nearby anyway. I have another deputy waiting out there with them. I have to say, the hunters were pretty shaken up.”

“Have you checked all the area hospitals to see if any babies have gone missing?” Max asked.

“All babies are accounted for so far,” Burney said.

“We were told that the baby was found inside a hollow log,” Max said. “How did the hunters stumble on that?”

“Just dumb luck,” Burney said. “They stopped to light a cigarette, saw a piece of something—blanket or fabric, I suppose—kind of sticking out, and they took a closer look.”

“These are okay guys?” Afton asked.

“I’ve known them both for fifteen years,” Burney said. “I’m positive they’re not involved.” He tapped his brakes as they swung around a curve. “Of course, we still have to follow procedure.”

Lights flashing, the cruiser flew past farm fields that expanded all the way to the graying horizon. A purple bruise of encroaching night was already settling around them, while a small blob of orange descended in the western sky.

Sheriff Burney turned off the main highway and onto a gravel road. He slowed a little, but not much. These back roads were obviously familiar to him.

“I’ve been sheriff here for almost nineteen years and things just keep getting worse,” he told them. “When I first came here, my kids were little and we were looking for that hometown feel. My wife and I fell in love with this place. It’s got great people, good schools, amazing scenery. There are places along the Cannon River, gorgeous little green groves of aspen and spruce, where you’d swear you found a little sliver of heaven.” He sighed heavily. “Now we’ve got dead babies in our woods. A couple weeks ago we had to bust a meth lab just south of here.”

“Times are changing,” Max said.

Burney nodded. “And not for the better.”


*

A mile up the road, Afton could see two cars and a beige pickup truck. Blue and red lights flared like strobes in a dance club against the mass of foggy exhaust that enveloped the vehicles. As they rolled closer, a sense of dread began to build within her. This was it. The investigation was about to get as visceral as it could get.

“Martha’s here,” Sheriff Burney said.

“Who’s Martha?” Afton asked.

“Local doctor and part-time county coroner,” he said as they crunched to a stop.

Afton gazed across an expanse of field toward a dense-looking stand of woods. It was going to be cold out there. She pulled up her collar, snugged her stocking cap down over her ears, and climbed out. The cold bit into her hard and she regretted that she wasn’t dressed properly for this kind of work. Her boots were more fashion than function. Fine for a day at the office, but not nearly warm enough to walk a half mile in what was probably knee-deep snow. If only she had snow boots and a pair of goggles. And truth be told, an ice ax wouldn’t be bad either. Max at least had his parka and a pair of Sorels.