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Stacey tightened her jaw, nodded, then headed back to her cruiser and drove away.
Tommy shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense. Pappy always says if you’re gonna take a shot, you better make it count. He wouldn’t have grazed the guy just to scare him off, and Pappy has the best aim of anyone I know.”
“I called every hospital within a twenty-mile radius this morning,” Owen said and squeezed his hands into the gloves before opening the door of the truck. “No one with a gunshot wound came in last night. But you’re right, Tommy, Pappy normally wouldn’t have missed. But it was dark, and he shot down a ravine. It’d be a tough shot for anyone.”
A mess of receipts and crumpled fast-food bags were scattered along the floor of Bill’s truck.
Owen cringed. Judging by the smell, a half-eaten cheeseburger probably filled one of the sacks. The passenger door swung open, and Owen glanced over to find the steady eyes of his dad taking in the clutter. “Pappy showed me footage of the woods last night. Two men carrying a woman to the river.”
“So, the scumbag has a friend willing to help hide a murder victim then dump his truck in the woods.” Mike shifted through the papers with glove-covered hands, smoothing out receipts and placing them in a pile on the leather seat.
“Yep. We need to find out who this guy runs around with.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Any word on who owns the house?”
“I checked the auditor’s website,” Tommy said. “The land was last purchased two years ago by a developer, Piper Properties. Owned by Steven Piper. I put in a call to him, but he didn’t answer.”
“Why would Pappy sell off parts of his land to a developer? Doesn’t make any sense.” Owen patted the worn seat and slipped his fingers along the cracks. Nothing but crumbs and dirt sprung from the spot where the seat met the backrest.
Mike grunted. “Who knows why that crazy old man does half the stuff he does—cameras all over the woods, alarms covering the house and property. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has bear traps hidden on the forest floor in case some unknowing soul has the nerve to step in his yard.”
Owen wanted to argue but couldn’t. “Whatever his reasons, we need to talk to Steven Piper if he owns the house this guy lives in,” Owen said, ignoring his dad’s comments about Pappy.
After his mother had been killed, his grandfather had barely kept his grasp on reality, his mind always caught between moving on and a fierce need to close the case that took his only child’s life. His granny had been the only one capable of keeping Lewis from becoming completely consumed with seeking justice.
When she’d passed away a few years ago, Lewis slipped further and further into a pit of despair that no one could pull him out of. Most days, Lewis didn’t leave the cave of memories, research, and depression he called a bedroom. Owen tried to suck up his own misery over the events that had stolen his mother a decade before and be there for his grandfather, but the old man didn’t make it easy—clinging to a past Owen didn’t want to remember and constantly berating Owen’s father at the same time. Most days, it was too much to deal with.
“Did you get any answers from the girl?” Mike hiked a knee on the floor of the truck, squeezing his heavy frame between the bench seat and the dashboard.
Marie’s confession back at the shelter floated into his mind. The past she’d revealed was part of the investigation and could be crucial to finding Bill before he hurt anyone else, but he didn’t want to tell all of her secrets.
Not all of it was necessary for them to do their jobs.
“Found out the guy used video he took of Marie’s mom selling drugs to blackmail her into leaving town with him. She said he’s been into some bad stuff for a while, but never mentioned any arrest. We need to touch base with the police from her hometown and see if they can shed any light.”
Tommy appeared behind Mike and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you think she could be involved in any of this? Even if she isn’t connected to the murder, what are the chances this girl was unaware of what he had going on? Seems to me she’d know where he’d hide better than anyone.”
Owen shifted to get a better angle under the steering wheel. He skimmed his fingers along the plastic of the column then turned to glance under the seat. “I’ll check into her more when I get a chance, but my gut says to trust her. Besides, she’s been consumed with taking care of her baby—with keeping her safe.”
Mike chuckled. “Must be a good-looking girl for you to believe her so easily.”
Owen gritted his teeth and kept his opinions to himself. True, he didn’t usually trust people based on their word, but there was something different about Marie. Something that warned him to be careful. Not because he couldn’t trust her, but because he could fall for her way too easy.
Jamming his hand under the seat, his fingers slid across something sticky on the floor and Owen shuddered. He flipped up his palm, and his hand brushed against a bulky object adhered to the bottom of the seat.
“Found something.” Pinching together his fingers, he grabbed the object and pulled it from beneath the seat. His shoulder screamed at the awkward angle, and he backed out of the truck and stood tall to stretch his achy muscles.
Footsteps hurried toward him as he studied the items in his hands. “Pills. Possibly opioids.”
Mike and Tommy gathered close.
“Guys carting drugs around in his truck, then leaves it all behind for us to find? Is he an idiot or what?” Tommy huffed out a humorless laugh.
“I don’t know. Could be he’s in a hurry to get out of town and doesn’t care what we found. He knows he’s screwed, and a little bit of drugs is nothing compared to murder.” Owen lifted the baggie in the air and tried to decipher the markings engraved on the little white pills. “Or it could be something else.”
“What other reason is there?”
Owen lowered the bag and fear grabbed hold of his heart. “The only way to lure us away from where he wants to be.”
8
