Chapter Twenty-Five
Deputy Lundquist was waiting for Elizabeth in the hallway leading to the morgue.
“What do you have for me?” she asked as he fell in step with her.
“The prints that I did find matched with Mrs. McKinnley’s. I found dirt clods on the cellar steps. Since she has no exposed dirt on her property, I had the DCI take it, and they’re testing it tomorrow.”
“Any footprints?”
“No, just the clumps.”
They rounded a corner and made a beeline for the swinging doors at the end of the hall.
“Kyle, are her clothes with DCI?”
“Yes. I went over them and took pictures as soon as the body arrived.”
“Did you find any anomalies?”
He shook his head. “The doc found bruising on the upper part of her arms.”
Elizabeth came to a halt. “Bruising like what?”
“Like she’d been restrained by a strong person.”
She closed her eyes and lowered her chin. Neva Mckinley likely had been restrained and probably dragged to the basement door where she was thrown down the steps.
“Murder,” she whispered.
The whoosh of rubber suction detaching brought her head up. Olivia came through the doors, removing her blood-splattered yellow gown.
“I’m finished,” she said, crumpling the gown into a ball.
“And?”
“I’ve determined the manner of death as homicide.” Olivia gripped Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Her neck was broken, but it was the cranial fracture and the brain hemorrhage that killed her.”
“Kyle said you found bruising on her arms.”
“Yes. They distinctly look like handprints. I’d say male by the size and width.”
“A male would be capable of lifting even her small frame and throwing her down the steps.”
“But why?” Lundquist asked.
“I think Deputy Dayne might have hit on it earlier. Neva knew too much. She was known to have filed complaints about activity at the Barrett place. And whatever she heard the other night might point fingers at Maya Wagner’s killer.” Elizabeth pointed at Lundquist. “The blood from the house, has a DNA match come back yet?”
“DCI said it matched Regan.”
“Okay, so, Regan was in the house. But she was dead the night Neva heard the sounds. And why throw Regan into the ravine?”
“It’s still possible Neva had her nights mixed up,” Olivia said.
“Possible, or we still have another victim out there. But it still doesn’t explain why Regan and Maya were killed at separate times,” Elizabeth added.
“Drugs and sex,” Lundquist said.
“Wait, did we ever get a hit on the DNA from the semen?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” Lundquist answered. “Either he’s never been arrested or he’s not had a full workup due to incompetence.”
“Toxicology?”
“Still waiting,” Olivia said. “I’m hoping to see something from DCI tomorrow.”
Elizabeth drew in a breath and held it two heartbeats before releasing it. “I can’t believe we have all this evidence and it amounts up to nothing.”
“Any luck with the search on the Barrett property?” Lundquist asked.
“Dayne and Meyer haven’t checked in yet.” Elizabeth turned to Olivia. “Do you need me for anything more?”
“I’m getting my recordings transcribed. I want to review my report and then I’ll send it over. Otherwise, I have nothing more for you.”
“Call me if anything new arises.” With that, Elizabeth and Lundquist backtracked and headed for the exit. “Kyle, was the meth we found under Maya ever tested?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I want it tested. We can determine if the batch was fresh and what components are in it.”
“Yes, but we don’t have anything to compare it against. We don’t have any records of drug busts around here. Sheehan never bothered with it.”
And why was that, pray tell? “I know. But I have a sneaky feeling it’s going to come up. We need to track it. Contact DCI and get on that.” She threw her arm into the door’s push bar.
“Where are you going?” Lundquist asked.
“It’s time me and the old sheriff have a little tête-à-tête.”
Lila held her flashlight aloft and scanned up. “I’ll be damned.”
Meyer splashed around on the edge of the stream. “Regan was dumped up there. But how do you get up and down from there without climbing gear?”
Swinging her light about, Lila let the beam fall on the tracks they had followed to this point. They disappeared into the streambed. “There has to be an outlet or a trail leading up that we’re not aware of.”
Her Motorola crackled. “Dayne, report?”
She jerked it free of her duty belt and cued it. “Fontaine, I’m at the base of the ravine where we found Regan. Meyer and I are going to check this area out to see if there’s a way to get up and down from the road to here.”
“It’s getting too dark for that. We’ll have to come back in the morning and look. We’ll start up top.”
She checked her watch. It was nearly five, and the dark was getting stronger. “Fine. Do you have anything?”
A radio squawk made her flinch. “You could say we did.”
Her stomach skipped.
“Put these coordinates in your GPS and head this way.” Fontaine rattled off numbers that Meyer logged into the ATV’s GPS. “Be careful. There are some deep holes and breaks in the ground that the side-by-side will get stuck in.”
“Roger that.”
She and Meyer loaded up and crawled through the timber at a reasonable pace, avoiding the holes and crevices. After twenty minutes of driving, she spotted the four-wheelers’ headlights. Meyer parked the ATV to the left of one four-wheeler and directed the lights on the structure before them.
Exiting the side-by-side, Lila let out a whistle.
Rafe and Joel appeared out the dark, both men armed.
“What is this?” she asked Rafe as approached her.
“Some sort of meth lab.” He directed the beam of his flashlight at the top of the building. The beam glanced off the mesh material stretched over it. “They used a came netting to disguise the whole thing from the sky. A way to keep it undetected even in the winter when the foliage is gone.”
Lila blew air through her mouth. “Sheriff is not going to be happy about this.”
“But we found the source for our drug problem.”
“Do we know who’s been using it?”
Joel walked past her with a pair of bolt cutters. “We’re about to find out.”
“Can we just enter without a warrant or anything?” Meyer asked. “I mean, it just looks like a regular building. Nothing says meth lab.”
“Except for the pile of empty propane tanks in the back and the equipment inside,” Fontaine said.
“It actually has a window?” Lila asked.
“Not just one but three. They probably figured no one would find it and they needed some natural light. And, Meyer, if we don’t know who uses it, who are we going to serve a warrant to?”
“In the case of a drug situation, I don’t think a judge will care,” Lila added.
Meyer shrugged. “I’m just saying, we’re treading on shaky ground here.”
A snap of metal drew the three of them to Joel. Flashlights poised on the sliding doors, Joel dragged the heavy chain out of the loops and yanked one door open. It slid on well-oiled hinges, not making a sound. How convenient for subterfuge.
All four entered cautiously, Lila arming herself as they went. She watched Joel closely, impressed with his quick sweep of the area before walking over to a bank of switches.
“Prepare your eyes,” he warned and flipped the switches.
Light flooded the building. Blinking past the sudden change, Lila felt her jaw drop.
“Holy hell,” Meyer muttered.
“Someone has deep, deep pockets.” Rafe nudged a bank of glass beakers, connected to a sophisticated maze of tubes and burners.
This was no run-of-the-mill, backwoods double wide meth lab. Above them was a state-of-the-art ventilation system, keeping the fumes from the cooking process away from the chefs. In a corner to their left were four stacks of boxes. Lila inched closer to read the stamped sides. Lighter fluid, pseudoephedrine, iodine crystals, rubbing alcohol, and hydrogen peroxide, all the base components for meth. And boxed, no less. Someone certainly had deep pockets to gain access to boxed ingredients before they hit the stores. “It’s like we stepped into an episode of Breaking Bad,” Meyer said.
“I think this is more sophisticated than that.” She walked past a table with an open cardboard box. “We’ve got Tyvek suits over here. And masks with ventilators.”
“Did they happen to label their names in them?” Rafe asked.
She held up one. “Nope.”
Joel cleared his throat. “Um, you should come see this.”
The other three wandered over to his position in front of a shiny metal door.
“Oh my God,” Lila said, her gaze meeting Rafe’s. She dug out a glove and donned it. She tugged on the handle; the latch popped and a blast of cold air escaped as she pulled it open.
Among the cold food items, stacks of metal racks, and cases of beverages and pills, the body lay in a fetal position.
“Meyer, it’s time to call the sheriff.”