Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (types of ebook readers txt) 📕

drove twelve miles to get here, but it’s only five miles away. So they was coming down along this track and they saw what looked like a bundle of rags in a clearing through the trees. C’mon and I’ll show you.”

The hill was steep, and under the pine needles the ground was soft and damp from what I guessed had been recent rain. It was a difficult climb. It would have been difficult even for somebody who knew the terrain. After about a minute I called ahead, “Is this the only approach? There is no approach from above?”

“Not for a vee-hicle, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He paused for us to catch up. His voice had a strange echo under the dense foliage of the tall trees. “She’d been out here about a week, so it was hard to be sure. But I think there were drag marks. I figure he parked down there where I did and dragged her up, using a tarp. He’d never’ve got her here from up top.” He shrugged, looking up the slope. “Not ’less he came by mule, or horse.”

He jerked his head off to the left. “That’s the spot where they seen the body, that clearing over yonder.”

I drew level with him and peered among the trees. Dehan came up by my side. The ground leveled off for maybe fifteen or twenty feet and, beyond a fallen tree, there was a broad patch, maybe thirty or forty feet across, where there were only deep ferns, but no pines.

“Back in July, the ferns were less dense. The kids was coming down this path and they seen a bundle, beyond that fallen pine there. We don’t get a lot of litter ’round here, folks are mostly respectful of nature, so they decided to go and have a look.”

Dehan spoke for the first time since the Wagon Wheel. “Can we go and see?”

“Be my guest.”

He led us across the brown carpet of needles under the high green canopy. The only sound aside from the crunch of our boots was the sigh of the breeze in the branches up above. There was no bird song, but there was the occasional brief flutter of wings.

We made our way around the great, fallen pine and he pointed to a large bush. “See that shrub there? That’s creeping Oregon grape. Her body was partially under that bush.” We trudged across till we were standing around it. “He’d obviously covered her in pine needles, but wild animals, the wind, whatever, they had come off and she was mostly exposed. There was no blood.” He pointed at the bush again. “Her neck and shoulders were underneath the foliage, and her head had rolled down into that hollow, at the foot of the slope there. According to the medical examiner, decapitation was postmortem, and most likely on site.”

Dehan said, “No hoof prints?”

He shook his head and smiled. “I did look for ’em, in case you’re wondering. But there weren’t none. Don’t mean he didn’t use a horse, or a mule. Like I say, a week had gone by, and being summer, the ground was hard.”

We stood in silence for a while. I tried to visualize the scene. It was probably night, and under the canopy of dense branches above, it would have been very dark. I made a mental note to check if there was a moon that night.

“How difficult would it be, Sheriff, for an experienced horseman to ride up and down these slopes in the dark?”

He nodded, still smiling. “Hard. Much easier to bring her up in a truck, wrapped in a tarp, and drag her in. At night, ain’t nobody gonna see you.” He shrugged. “That’s what the Mob do, all the way from Vegas!” He laughed, creasing up his eyes and chewing on his cheroot.

Dehan raised her eyebrows at me. “So, unless the crime is dumping a body, we haven’t even got a crime scene.”

The sheriff nodded at her. “You see my problem. It’s like I said to you back at the Wagon Wheel, this place is used for just that purpose. That’s why you won’t catch me kickin’ up no fuss about jurisdiction. I’m grateful to have you take this darn case off my hands! I can’t figure what happened!”

It was just short of ten o’clock when the sheriff dropped us back at the motel. We watched him drive away, having told us that if we needed him, his office was in James Town—seven miles north as the crow flies, fourteen by road.

Dehan led the way inside and stood with her ass in front of the iron stove again, bouncing slightly with her hands behind her back. I said, “I’m dead beat. Let’s sleep till lunch, then we can review what we know and decide on a course of action.”

She nodded and looked relieved. I hit the bell and Ned appeared after a moment wearing his look of secret superiority.

“Ready to go up?”

“Yeah, and we don’t want to be disturbed till lunchtime.”

He winked, which made me frown, and said, “I understand,” which made my frown deepen. Then he handed me a key. “It’s the last door on the left, with glorious views of the mountains.”

There was an awkward moment when Dehan came and stood at the desk and we all stared at each other. Finally, Dehan said, “May I have my key too?”

He gaped and his eyes widened in horror. “Two rooms? I understood… I didn’t realize… I thought…”

I scowled at him. “You thought that two NYPD detectives were going to share a room?”

He went pale and swallowed. “I assumed you were the detective and madam was… When you said your partner… These days, partner can mean so many things…”

I sighed. Dehan was staring at me with a complete absence of expression, which was kind of unnerving. I said, “Look, no