When You See Me (Detective D.D. Warren #11)(36)

Martha waved a dismissive hand. “Many of our guests are loners who keep to themselves. They come to the mountains looking to get away. They have their own thoughts, their own problems. And they appreciate us letting them be.”

“Do you have guest records going back fifteen years?” D.D. asked.

The mayor looked at his wife. She shrugged. “I’d have to check. We installed our new computer system . . . I’d guess ten years ago? But I can look.”

“We’d appreciate any and all records you have,” Sheriff Smithers assured her.

“Going back fifteen years? That’s thousands of names, Sheriff.”

“I know.”

Martha sighed, as if resigned to her fate.

“Great.” D.D. rose to standing. “We’ll be back tomorrow for the records.”

Smithers blinked at her abrupt tone, but didn’t correct her as he also climbed to his feet.

“Thank you for the coffee, ma’am.” He nodded to Martha, shook hands with Howard. D.D. didn’t bother. She was already halfway out of the nook. Sheriff Smithers hastened to catch up.

“What was all that about?” he asked huffily as he finally reached her outside. D.D. didn’t answer right away, but waited till they were farther down the street.

“I think they’re lying to us.”

“About what?”

“Plenty of things. Their niece for one thing.”

“That poor girl—”

“That poor girl understands plenty.”

The sheriff frowned, caught her arm. “Did you talk to her? That why you grabbed her for the ladies’ room?”

“She can’t speak. That part seems true. But that doesn’t mean she can’t communicate. And she hears just fine. When you were running the Counsels through the round of questioning, I asked her to participate as well. One finger for yes, two fingers for no.”

The sheriff stared at her. “She could do that?”

“Yep. And get this, when you showed the picture of Jacob Ness—”

“Hang on. Ness died seven years ago. Even if he’d been around right before then, that girl would’ve been only a little kid herself.”

“Little girls have eyes and ears. Especially ones who get to spend their lives standing at the edge of a room, waiting to serve more tea.”

The sheriff still appeared uncertain. “She answered? When I showed the picture of Jacob, she answered?”

“She held up three fingers.”

“Three fingers? I thought you said it was one or two?”

“I know. Which proves just how smart she is. Her answer wasn’t yes or no. I think she made up a new code on the spot: three fingers for maybe.”

“That doesn’t tell us anything.”

“It tells us she knows more than the Counsels believe she knows. And it tells me I’m going to find a way to speak to her again. Alone. That girl needs us, Sheriff. I don’t know exactly what’s going on around here, but the discovery of these remains, it’s a beginning, not an end. And we’d better catch up fast, because you know what happens when old skeletons suddenly come to light? People get scared. Then new bodies have a tendency to drop. Something happened here. Something very bad. Real question is, is it over yet?”





CHAPTER 16





FLORA





IEXPECTED A KID AT THE ATV rental company. Instead it’s an old guy in a green flannel shirt, worn jeans, and sturdy hiking boots. He glances up when Keith and I walk through the door, takes in Keith’s obviously upscale urban wardrobe, and appears to do some quick math. Probably doubling the rental price for the cute tourist couple.

I thought Keith would start with the subject of maps. Instead, he smiles, lays on the charm, and plays the part of na?ve out-of-towner with more money than common sense.

First question from owner-operator Bill Benson: Have we ever driven a four-wheeler before? We both shake our heads.

Okay, one ATV or two? Bill eyes me dubiously. He appears old school, as in women should be seen not heard, and definitely have no place operating any kind of motorized vehicle.

Keith wants to know about the ATVs first. Sizes, models, how comfortable for two. Hey, if we wanted to bring blankets, a picnic basket, does Bill have anything with storage, that sort of thing.

Bill takes us out back to peruse his inventory. A standard ATV can definitely hold two of us just fine. Or, given the scenarios both Keith and I are running through our minds, one driver plus one body strapped behind the driver. Three bodies seems a stretch to me, and I have no idea where you’d put a shovel, but then I see a compact trailer parked to the side, obviously meant to be attached to the rear of one of the ATVs. Probably intended for hauling leaves, lawn clippings, that sort of thing. But also perfect for dark deeds done at midnight. I can tell by the look on Keith’s face that he’s thinking the same.

Keith inspects each four-wheeler. He settles on one that looks exactly like all the others to me. And finally we get to the matter of where to ride.

Bill walks us back inside, where he unfolds a map of the surrounding area. There aren’t just ATV trails, there are hiking trails. Dozens, if not hundreds, looping all over the place. The myriad of dashed and solid lines reminds me of the subway map in Boston, except much more complicated.