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“Same place we found Dean. At a cabin in the Juniper Mountains.”
Jonah’s eyes met Francesca’s. “The Schultz cabin?”
A shocked silence followed, then Finch asked, “How do you know about the Schultz cabin?”
“I hired a security guard to watch the salvage yard last night. He saw Butch put a black garbage bag filled with something in the back of his truck. He drove it up to that cabin. When he came home, the bag was gone. I was there all day, looking for it.”
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?” Finch demanded.
“Because you haven’t been returning our calls, for one!”
Finch cursed. “I don’t know why I’m getting upset. It doesn’t matter. That business about Butch driving to the cabin doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“Are you kidding?” Jonah said. “Why would Butch drive a black garbage bag into the Juniper Mountains in the middle of the night?”
“Because he was looking for Dean.”
“And the black bag?”
“Could’ve been garbage. That’s what black bags are generally used for. Wait until you see some of the other stuff we uncovered on the property. Most of it can be attributed to Dean, like a notebook full of macabre drawings of skeletons and cadavers. Dean’s fascinated with death.”
News of the drawings, which fit so closely with what her father had relayed, made Francesca question whether they were just being obstinate in thinking it had to be Butch.
“Tell me about the remains,” Jonah said. “What were they in? Where were they found?”
“They were in the cellar, in a black bag, but that doesn’t mean it’s the same bag your guy saw in Butch’s truck,” he was quick to explain.
“You have to admit it’s a major coincidence,” Jonah insisted.
“I’ll give you that much. But black bags are so common that one coincidence isn’t enough to override all the other evidence.”
“The drawings?”
“And the letters. And Butch’s testimony about his brother-in-law spending a lot of time where we found the freezer. And Francesca’s testimony about him breaking into her house. We also have his computer. Once we go through his files, who knows what we’ll find?”
“I hope you’re right.”
“You don’t sound like you hope anything of the sort. You already have your mind made up about Butch. Even though we found the remains in the cellar.”
“So?”
“Did you check the cabin? Was it locked?”
“Yes.”
“If it was Butch who put that bag there, how could he have gotten in? Dean’s the one who can pick any lock in existence. He even had a set of lock picks on him. That, if anything, should put your mind at ease. If Butch was the one who took those remains up there, he would’ve found the cabin locked up, just like you did.”
“Unless he’s the one who locked it in the first place,” Francesca said.
“Oh, come on,” Finch snapped. “That cabin’s a vacation rental. How would Butch have a key? Dean’s got to be our man.”
“Possibly.” Jonah sounded unconvinced, and Francesca felt equally torn.
“Hang on a sec,” Finch said. “Hunsacker’s trying to talk to me.”
They heard voices but couldn’t make out any words until Finch came back on the line. “Dean just confessed.”
“To what, exactly?” Francesca asked.
