Page 120 of What She Saw

He opened the top dresser drawers, filled with concert T-shirts. He searched each drawer until he was sure there was nothing linked to the victims. He combed through the nightstands, the closet, under the bed, and behind the picture frames. A nervous energy tightened his belly as he exited the bedroom and moved past Paxton, who was searching behind the couch cushions.

In the kitchen he opened all the drawers, noting the large collection of sharp kitchen knives. The cabinets were filled with old plates, cups, and glasses.

“Find anything?” Paxton asked.

“Nothing.”

Frustration fizzled through him, and he moved back to the kitchen sink and stared out the back window to a barn. It was an old wood-frame structure with a few small windows and double doors.

The barn was fifty feet from the house and in a direct line of sight from the kitchen. “Come with me to the barn.”

Paxton joined him. “The search warrant is for the house.”

“And all structures.”

“I don’t think it says that.”

“It does.” If it didn’t and he found critical evidence, he’d talk to Briggs.

Hinges squeaked as he opened the barn door. Inside, light filtered through the roof’s missing shingles. Slashes of light cut across the air, catching particles of dust in their paths.

The barn was filled with equipment from the festival. Speakers, dismantled stages, a large banner announcing the festival hung from the rafters, wafting in the breeze that rushed in behind him. A half dozen large trunks were stacked on top of each other. Stage props included rolled-up rugs, a large sparkling globe, and stage lights.

Dust kicked up around his boots as he crossed to the trunks. It was common for killers to keep mementos from their victims. Thesewere often small trinkets. It was clear Colton liked mementos from his concerts, and it tracked he would do the same with victims.

“What did you save?” he muttered to himself.

He flipped up the lock on the top storage box. It opened, and he lifted the lid.

“I think we’re out of the safe zone,” Paxton said.

“This box is stored in the barn.”

“I thought we were limited to the house and what was in plain sight.”

“Paxton, do me a favor? I need a flashlight from my trunk.”

Paxton hesitated. He wasn’t the quickest on the draw, but he understood he was being given an out. He couldn’t testify to what he’d not seen. “Will do, boss.”

When the barn door closed, Taggart opened the lid. Inside were blankets and folded tarps. He dug his arm into the box and rooted through the layers until his fingertips grazed the wooden bottom of the trunk. Sometimes killers went to great trouble to hide their trophies. Others kept them displayed—hidden in plain sight. These killers liked to have them accessible because the simple act of seeing them triggered sexual desire. Many killers masturbated as they fondled a trinket.

The women had been missing for a week and a half. Whatever had happened at the festival was still fresh in Colton’s mind. And with the increasing media coverage, he had plenty to stimulate memories of the event.

Taggart closed and moved aside the first trunk, then searched the second. It wasn’t until he opened the third and bottom trunk that he found a dusty brown shoebox nestled in the center of blankets.

He lifted the lid of the box. Satisfaction rushed him. A blue guitar strap was curled into a tight ball and wedged in the corner. Laurie Carr, Blue Guitar Girl. In the space between the guitar strap and the edge of the shoebox was Patty Reed’s driver’s license. Her smiling face stared up at him. His throat tightened. There were two other items in the box—a heart necklace and an onyx ring. He replaced the lid back on the box and closed the trunk.

A jolt of victory was blunted by the hard truth that these women were no longer missing. They’d been victims. They were dead.

Hinge doors squeaked open, and when he glanced over his shoulder, sunlight silhouetted Paxton’s shape. “I have the flashlight.”

Taggart’s knees protested as he straightened. “We need to talk to the judge and then radio the state police.”

Paxton’s gaze locked on the trunk. “You found something.”

“I’m not sure what I found,” he lied. “But I need to talk to the judge before I look any further.”

Paxton looked relieved. “Okay.”