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But that was a cop-out, Barbara thought. Just like her mom blinding herself to her dad’s abuse with food and soaps. Just like the townsfolk who confided in her after his death that they had always worried for her, what with his drinking and temper, but they didn’t like to interfere. Barbara had recognized the warning signs with Nathan and Jacob, and she had still walked away.
“Shit,” she cursed again, more wearily. Then she looked around. “Where the hell is Nathan’s body?”
“Maybe he was thrown further?”
She stood and they walked into the forest, torches scanning the snow. But there was no sign of another body.
Barbara glanced back toward the truck. “He can’t have been thrown further than this.”
“You think he got out?”
Barbara thought about the concertinaed cab. “Not without severe injuries…but I haven’t seen any tracks or blood.”
“If he’s out there, he won’t last long,” Tucker said. “Especially if he’s injured. Either a bear or a wolf will get him, if he doesn’t freeze to death first.”
He was probably right, Barbara thought. But what if Nathan had somehow escaped the crash? What if he’d jumped clear before the truck hit the tree? The forest was deep and dense. He could already have a decent head start. And they had no idea which direction he would head in.
“We can’t just let him get away,” she said, feeling frustration gnaw at her.
“We’re not. But it would be crazy to try and search for him in this weather. He’s already the walking dead.”
“Fine,” she said reluctantly. “We’ll head back into town with Jacob’s body. I’ll update the state police. As soon as the weather improves, I want a search party out there. We get him, dead or alive.”
They wrapped Jacob’s body in an emergency foil blanket from the back of the truck and laid him gently inside. He seemed light, insubstantial. Barbara fought back the burning behind her eyes and climbed into the driver’s seat.
She put the truck into gear and pulled off. They drove in silence, the only sound the heavy whirr of the wipers and the howl of the wind outside. Barbara clung to the steering wheel. Blood stained her gloves. She realized something was still bothering her.
“The blood in the house? Do we still think it’s Jacob’s?”
Tucker took a moment to reply. “If he was injured or dead before the crash, I guess so.”
“So, either Nathan was driving to get help or to dispose of the body?”
“Looks that way.”
The twinkling lights of Deadhart came into view as they breasted the hill.
“Yeah, I suppose it does,” Barbara said. But it was there again. That niggle.
They drove back down Main Street. No lights glowed in the windows, only the omnipresent Christmas decorations, but Barbara couldn’t be sure no one was watching. Once again, they pulled around the side of the Grill, and Tucker carried Jacob’s body into the kitchen. Barbara flicked on the lights.
“Lay him down on the floor,” she said. “I want to take another look at his injuries.”
Tucker did as she instructed. Barbara bent down and peeled back the foil blanket. She forced herself to look at Jacob’s body again. In the harsh fluorescent light, the wounds looked even more brutal. She inspected his throat. Glass fragments from the shattered windscreen were embedded in the torn flesh. Larger slivers protruded from his body. Several limbs were broken. All typical with a car crash. Barbara couldn’t see any injuries that looked deliberate. Certainly, none that would have generated the amount of blood they had observed in the house. The spatter on the walls and television—that spoke of a frenzied attack, multiple wounds, perhaps a severed artery. She wasn’t seeing any of that on Jacob’s body.
So, whose was the blood in the house? Nathan’s? Was he the one who was injured? Had Jacob attacked him for some reason? But why? The sense of wrongness itched at the back of her skull.
“What are you thinking?” Tucker asked.
“I’m thinking that we have one crash victim, one missing person and a crime scene covered in a large amount of blood that doesn’t appear to belong to either of them.”
There was something they weren’t seeing. Again. A crucial piece of the puzzle. They both looked down at Jacob. Barbara’s heart clenched. He looked so young, so vulnerable.
“Okay,” she said wearily. “Let’s put him in the freezer with the others.”
And if that wasn’t a depressing sentence, she didn’t know what was. They carried Jacob’s small body into the walk-in freezer and laid him down next to Mowlam. Marcus’s body still lay on the steel table. Barbara felt anger and sorrow swell in her throat.
“You okay?” Tucker asked.
