Page 34 of Vanish From Sight (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #2)

B efore leaving for the Perez home, they’d returned to County to ask Nate Sawyer why he lied about the meeting with Hawthorne. The answer would have to wait as an urgent call came in while they were on route from Savannah, offering a lead that could be tied to all three women.

“You’re sure that’s the location?” Noah asked, bringing it up on Google Maps to get a bird’s-eye view before half a dozen squad cars, a forensics van and State would descend upon it.

“The phone company confirmed it. This is the last location of Lena and the woman she called before heading to Split Rock Falls,” Savannah said.

“We got a name?”

“Teresa Barkley. Previous felon. Has a rap sheet as long as your arm. Warrant is already out for her arrest. Marshals have had her in their crosshair for the past fourteen months. Almost got her in Chicago, eight months ago. Seems she decided to settle down here.”

The Adirondack Mountains were silent and still as a convoy of police vehicles rumbled down the winding dirt road towards an old farmhouse nestled in the woods. Noah’s jaw clenched; his mind full of anger. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest as the Bronco bumped over the uneven path.

No sirens wailed, filling the air with an eerie sense of foreboding. They had finally tracked down where Lena had been prior to her demise. Had she died here? Or had they waited until she was out at the gorge?

As they got closer to the dilapidated farmhouse, his heart sank.

He eased off the gas, killed the engine and got out, service weapon at the ready. He felt a surge of rage as he made his way forward.

Like a wave, deputies moved in on the farmhouse and outbuildings, and orders were bellowed.

There was no sign of anyone.

No one rushed out to flee or meet them spewing lies. It was early but not for farm life. His eyes scanned the tree line, the outbuildings, the farm equipment and a barn which was full of bales of hay stacked high into the rafters.

There was a slew of empty cages and dog crap.

Near that was a shed for cows with milking equipment and a large tank for storing liquid. A pigpen was nearby with a group of contented hogs snuffling around in the mud.

The earthy aroma of hay and manure mixed with soil was overpowering.

“What have we got?” he asked as he approached the large farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a faded red roof.

The paint was peeling everywhere. The overall appearance was one of age and disrepair.

The windows were large and open, letting in light but not enough fresh air to clear the musty stank inside.

“It’s empty,” a deputy said, passing Noah on the way in.

Deputies cleared the rooms, checking for any sign of Teresa and those responsible.

But all that was found was empty space and the remnants of life lived.

It looked as if they had abandoned the house in a hurry, with furniture overturned and personal items scattered about.

Cops rummaged through drawers and closets, but found nothing.

Then as he was about to leave, Noah noticed a glint of metal on the floor in the living room.

Among all the trash, he might not have given it a passing glance if it wasn’t for the gold band attached to it.

He’d recognize that anywhere. He’d bought it in High Peaks.

It was Lena’s. Noah’s heart sank at the realization.

He figured she must have torn it off to leave behind a clue, to let him know that not only had she been there but that she’d never really put her relationship with him behind her.

As he bent down and picked it up, he muttered, “That’s why you had cold feet.”

Noah felt an ache in his chest. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing that she had thought of him in her final moments, but also that he was too late to help her.

“What you got there?” McKenzie asked.

He dangled the necklace and ring. “It belonged to Lena.”

He expected the Scotsman to crack a joke, whip out a smart-ass remark but he didn’t. Even he knew where to draw the line. Noah pocketed the necklace and was about to leave when Callie called out. “Noah.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder. She held up a photo frame. He squinted and strolled toward her. “Seems Nate Sawyer isn’t the only one that’s been lying. ”

The photo was of three people out on a fishing boat. One of them was holding up a giant catfish, the other a fishing rod. Thomas Green was among the group, all smiles and celebratory. “Sonofabitch! Savannah was right.”

He charged out of the house with the photo but not before smashing it against the door frame and pulling out the picture.

“I’ll go with you,” Callie said. “Hold up.”

“I guess I’ll just stay here and see what I can find,” McKenzie muttered. Noah dashed back to his Bronco and jumped behind the wheel. With a screech of tires, he careened onto the dirt road leading back to the town.

The speedometer crept higher as Noah navigated the treacherous turns and bends, each one causing the vehicle to sway dangerously from side to side. Callie clung to the side of the door, telling him to slow down, but Noah was too furious to listen.

The Bronco hurtled down the road, and Noah felt his blood boil. He could feel the tension in his muscles as he gripped the wheel tight, white-knuckling it in frustration.

Finally, they screeched into the parking lot of the Sheriff’s Office, and Noah jumped out, his heart racing.

“He’s not going anywhere, Noah.”

“Damn sure about that.”

He burst into the building, demanding to have Thomas pulled from his jail cell.

The correction officer in charge was taken aback at the request, certainly hesitant as he tried to make sense of the whirlwind before him.

Following in his shadow, Callie was able to bring clarity to the situation while Noah paced, trying to calm himself.

They waited in a small interview room for an officer to collect the suspect.

The room was brightly lit, with a single fluorescent light flickering above them. The walls were a dull beige, and the only furniture was a small metal table and two chairs. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and Noah could feel his impatience mounting with every passing second.

He glanced up at the clock.

It took close to fifteen minutes before Thomas appeared.

Finally, the door opened and the correction officer escorted the suspect in. Thomas looked disheveled and tired, his orange jumpsuit a stark contrast to the drab walls of the room. He eyeballed them both before slumping down on a chair across from Noah. Callie stayed off to one side of the room.

“Am I getting out?” he asked.

Noah wasted no time getting started.

“Is there anything about your statement you want to change?”

He frowned, his gaze bouncing between them, confusion spreading. “I told you everything.”

“Everything?”

Thomas shrugged. “Am I missing something here?”

“I don’t know. You tell me?”

“I was straightforward with you all.”

Noah dipped his chin and snorted, then lifted his eyes. “Thomas, you’ve been lying to us. About the dogs. About your involvement with them. Haven’t you?”

Thomas looked confused. “I’m lost. What?”

His anxiety only seemed to intensify. He struggled to keep eye contact with them, as his gaze flickered away whenever they bounced it back to him.

Noah looked at Callie before he sighed, his patience wearing thin. “Don’t play dumb. Okay? I’m giving you a chance here. So, tell us about the farm.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and it trembled with fear. “What farm?”

“We know you’re involved in the selling of dogs or at least associated with those who do it. Does the name Teresa Barkley ring a bell?”

Thomas’ demeanor didn’t change. He shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Noah could feel his frustration building.

In a split second, he shoved the table out of the way, grabbed Thomas by the collar and pushed him back against the wall. “Don’t fucking lie to me. People are dead! We have evidence that you know Teresa.” He took the photo and shook it in front of his face. “Does this bring back any memories?”

“Noah,” Callie said, trying to pull him back, but he shook her off, his eyes fixed on Thomas.

Thomas’ gaze flickered down to the photo in Noah’s hand, and he hesitated for a moment before finally admitting it.

“I don’t know her well,” he said. “I was introduced to her that day by my cousin Jethro. They said they had a surefire way to make money. There was zero risk involved and it was all aboveboard.”

“And?” Noah asked.

Thomas hesitated for a second before speaking again, stuttering as he did.

“I M-met them a few years ago,” he said.

“My cousin took me out fishing, and we G-got talking. They seemed like grounded people, so we H-hung out a few times after that. You know, had a couple of beers. But I didn’t really know them. ”

“Did you know they were going to harm people?”

“What? No, I swear I didn’t,” Thomas said. “Did they?”

“Don’t fucking bullshit, man.” His anger spilled over.

“I’m not. My job was simple. To go around and C-collect strays. Dogs that were off leash. I was to bring them back. The ones they wanted to keep they did, the others I C-could take to the shelter. They paid me. That was it.”

“What about the golden retriever?”

“I was supposed to see them the next day to show them that one. I couldn’t bring M-myself to part with the dog so I was going to keep him.”

There was a moment of silence.

“So, you have visited the farm?”

“Yeah. I was only ever allowed in the house. They didn’t want me in the outbuildings. I was told everything was aboveboard. That they were D-doing a good thing, breeding and raising dogs and selling them to folks in town. I saw the flyers. I just...”

“Forgot that part? Right. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“You never asked.”

“Damn you, Thomas!” he shouted in his face.

Callie tugged at Noah’s arm. He stepped back, gripping the photo.

“A woman is dead because of you. If I find out that you or they were connected to the other two, I swear, I fucking swear, I will…!” he said through gritted teeth, coming at him, but Callie got between them.

Noah shook a finger at him, his anger boiling over.

Thomas stood there, his shoulders hunched and his eyes darting nervously between them. What little confidence he had was replaced by a tense and scared demeanor. His hands were clenched tightly in front of him, and his fingers fidgeted as he waited for what might come next.

“Look, I understand,” Thomas said.

“You understand?” Noah threw the words back at him.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my connection to the others. I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Relevant? Relevant? We asked you straight up if you were stealing dogs and you said you were collecting strays.”

“I was.”

“Yeah, you just left out the part about selling them. So, tell me, you never took any dogs out of someone’s backyard?”

“Never.”

“Did they? ”

“I wasn’t the only collector.”

“Oh. Is that the title they gave you? You piece of shit!” Noah gritted his teeth, one hand balled tight. It was taking everything in him to restrain himself.

Thomas’ face was pale and drawn, with a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. His eyes were wide and darted between them, as if searching for an exit. He bit down on his lower lip nervously, and his breath came in shallow and quick gasps.

Seeing the need to dial it back, Callie turned toward him. “Okay. Okay. Look. It’s relevant now. That’s all that matters. You need to tell us everything you know about Teresa Barkley and the others.”

Thomas nodded. “I will,” he said.

“Beginning with where they can be found,” Noah said.