Page 23

TWENTY-TWO

OPOSSUM TRAIL FARM

Ellie promised to call Derrick if she sensed danger at Modelle’s house and to wait for back-up, but she couldn’t sit around twiddling her thumbs while waiting for autopsy results. Not when this ex-prisoner fit the description of the perpetrator they were in search of.

Opossum Trail was northwest of the highest peak at Coal Mountain where a clan of hillbillies lived deep in the woods and fed on the squirrels and opossums they hunted. They never ventured into town and were uneducated recluses with their own dialect. She’d seen a few when she and her father had hiked, but they didn’t like strangers invading their space.

Slushy snow spewed from her tires as she wove around the switchbacks. Older cabins and mountain homes dotted the landscape and were perched on ridges that overlooked the valley.

A cluster of rentals on the creek brought tourists who wanted seclusion. Modelle’s home was on a dirt road banked by tall thick oaks and pines, that looked as if the mountain would literally swallow his house.

Wild hogs, critters and snakes lived among the opossums and racoons that infiltrated the trail and the AT shelters, and sometimes carried rabies. Snow and ice covered the trees and the dark canopy of foliage gave her the feeling that someone was hiding in the midst watching her.

As she approached the dilapidated clapboard house, she scanned the property. A woodpile coated in inches of snow was stacked against one side of the house, and smoke curled from the chimney, indicating someone was inside.

A run-down black pick-up truck sat beneath a lean-to that served as a carport and as she checked her gun and holster, she noticed a dog bowl on the rickety front porch beside a caned straight chair. A barn stood behind the house along with two outbuildings and pens.

She scanned the front windows and saw a light burning from inside, a person’s silhouette moving across the room. Modelle?

Was there more than one person inside?

Deciding to observe, she simply watched from the Jeep, having parked beneath a cluster of oaks. Seconds ticked into minutes. Gray clouds slithered across the sky, casting the cabin in an eerie darkness.

Derrick would want her to wait. Cord would be mad if she went inside, too.

But she was in charge, and she had two dead little girls needing justice.

The shadow moved to the window, and she saw Modelle push the curtain aside and peer out.

She couldn’t allow the possibility of danger to hold her back. Through the window, she saw Modelle reach sideways, grab a shotgun and raise it toward her.

Easing from her Jeep, she started walking up to the house. Seconds later, the door creaked open, and Modelle’s shotgun appeared out the door first. “Stop right there, missy!”

Ellie lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. The man looked to be mid-thirties, wore overalls and had a scruffy beard. He looked even meaner than he had in his mug shot. “Mr. Modelle, I’m Detective Ellie Reeves. I just want to talk.”

“What about?” he yelled. “I been cleared of that trouble with my daughter.”

Disgust rolled through Ellie in waves, crashing her calm. He minimized a sadistic murder as trouble ?

“I know that,” she said, biting back an accusation. She’d read the file and she would have found him guilty without question. According to witnesses, he’d abused his daughter repeatedly. No child killer should walk free. Or be allowed to work at a town festival or petting zoo where children frequented.

“It’s not about her,” Ellie said. “I need to know if you’ve recently visited Emerald Falls.”

He stepped outside and adopted a shooter’s stance, tracking her movements with his weapon. “Why you wanna know? You trying to blame me for somethin’ else?”

“I’m investigating the murder of two little girls whose bodies were found at the falls on Thanksgiving. Where were you during the early hours of that morning?”

He stomped his foot. “Right here, bitch. Now get off my property.”

Ellie gave him a deadpan look. “Can anyone confirm your story?”

“None of your damn business. Now, you got nothing to tie me to that killing so get out of here or I’ll shoot.”

“It’s a crime to threaten a police officer,” Ellie said with an eyebrow raise.

“You’re the one trespassing, lady.” He swung the barrel of his gun toward a No Trespassing sign dangling from a post beside the lean-to. “Man’s got a right to protect his own damn home.”

Suspicions rose in Ellie’s mind. He was hiding something.

Ellie narrowed her eyes. “You have something in there you don’t want me to see?”

“I said get out of here and leave me alone.” His fingers tightened around the gun.

Ellie silently cursed but took a step back. “If I find out you’re connected to these murders, I’ll be back.”

Dammit. She needed evidence, something substantial to justify warrants.

Maybe the hunting knife Cord found would offer that. If Modelle’s DNA or prints were on it, she could come back and tear his house apart.

And if he was guilty, she’d do the same thing to the bastard.