Close To Danger (Westen #4)(39)

Always the negotiator.

“What’s that?”

“Please tell me you have stuff to make s’mores. I’ve been craving them ever since you started the fire last night.”

He winked at her as he grabbed both their coats off the hooks by the door. “S’mores fixings are in the pantry.”

She stood, pulled on her coat, hat and mittens, then grinned at him. “My hero.”

He followed her out into the cold air, wishing he believed that as much as she did. But then he knew the truth. Five men were dead because of him. He was no hero.



*



Deputy Daniel L?we turned his snowmobile up the driveway area to the little house. Cutting the engine, he sat and studied the scene in front of him.

Everything was covered in snow. The drive, the bushes, the fence that circled the property and the land beyond the house. The house had snow over the porch and up against the bottom of the door. The blizzard winds had pushed snowdrifts up to the lower edge of the windows, which were completely dark. A foot of snow lay on the roof and chimney, which had no smoke coming from it.

God, don’t let there be anyone inside.

All the other homes he’d stopped at in this area of the county had some sort of life. A fire in the chimney, lanterns in the window. The sound of a generator keeping the occupants warm.

This place was eerily silent.

Not good.

With a sinking feeling he started the engine again and drove up to the porch. Still seated, he tried to see in the living room window. No one came to the window to investigate the noise his snowmobile engine made. No one came to the door. Normally, he’d just assume no one was home and head on to the next place. But his gut told him to check inside to be sure someone wasn’t in trouble.

Damn, he didn’t want to go in here alone.

Pulling out his sat phone, he dialed in the number for the phone Cleetus was carrying. The big guy had gone further northeast to where the Amish farms started. The religious group might be its own secluded community, but in their county, Gage, and his dad before him, believed every citizen’s welfare was part of the Sheriff’s Department’s responsibility.

“What’s up Dan?” the other deputy said without preamble.

“Where are you?” Hopefully not too far away.

“Over at Thomas Yoder’s farm. He and his oldest son just got back from checking on their neighbors by horse and wagon. Everyone was good, so saves us going to all those farms. Why?”

“I’m on Bridge Road about a mile off County Road 456. The old Thurber place.”

“What’s up?” Worry laced Cleetus’ voice.

“Nothing. That’s the problem. I’m going in to check it out. I might need some help. I’ve got a bad feeling.” Which was growing stronger by the minute.

“Dammit, that’s where Rosie Cochran moved to last summer. Josiah Thurber’s family rented it to her after he passed away.”

“You think she’s in there?” Daniel had already killed his engine and was climbing off the snowmobile, his heart heavy with every step.

“Her and her daughter, Lexie. I’m on my way, Dan. Should take me about ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Cleetus. I’ll be inside.”

With a prayer that he’d find the place empty, that Rosie had taken her daughter somewhere for the weekend, he slipped the sat phone into his pocket, grabbed his flashlight and headed to the front door.

“Rose? You in there?” he yelled as he knocked on the wooden door then waited for a response.

None. Not a sound.

He tried the door. It was locked.

Flashlight on, he stomped over to the front window, sinking down to his knees in the snow with each step. He scanned the dark room with his flashlight. Empty pizza boxes sat on the coffee table. Beer bottles on the floor. Drug pipes and disposable lighters lay among the trash on the end tables. A basket of laundry, whether clean or dirty he couldn’t tell from where he stood, sat next to the couch.

Nothing moved.

Slowly, he worked his way around to the kitchen on the east side. It appeared in the same half-kept hoarder-in-training mess as the living room. He moved on to the back of the one-story ranch style home where the bedrooms were located. It was also the north side and therefore the coldest part of the house.

The first room was empty. The bed unmade, trash and clothes spread all over the place.

Finally, he came to the second, smaller of the bedrooms. The toys on the shelf were stored neatly. The dresser top had a stuffed animal and a book on top. The floor was neatly picked up. He moved his flashlight to the bedside table. It had a lamp and a book. Then he scanned the bed. At first, he thought it was just a pile of blankets.

Then the pile moved.

Shit!

He moved the flashlight towards the head of the bed. The pile of blankets stirred again and little fingers moved the edge of the covers. He stared into huge dark blue eyes in a pale oval face.

“It’s okay Lexie. It’s Deputy Daniel from the Sheriff’s department. I’m here to help you and your mom.” As soon as he said it, he had to wonder where her mother was. Could she be in the basement? Injured? She certainly wasn’t anywhere on the main floor.

Didn’t matter at the moment. Right now, he needed to get inside to that little girl before she froze to death.

Moving as fast as the deep snow would let him, he headed back to the front door. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and slow his heartrate.