Chapter Ten
“There’s nothing in this room,” Ryan whispered, his voice unsteady. He dropped his hand and stepped back. With so much history between himself and Charlie, it was hard to believe they were strangers now. But they were.
“Let’s take a look around the rest of the house.”
He nodded and followed her out the door.
Being careful not to disturb Doug’s work, he and Charlie searched the place without any results.
“What about the barn?” It had been a long time since Ryan had been in Pete’s barn. At one time, Pete kept horses for riding but in recent years he’d sold them. Ryan believed it was because Abby’s case dominated every spare minute of Pete’s life.
He and Charlie stepped out into the frigid evening. The last rays of sunlight were quickly fading. Soon, darkness would descend on the mountaintop. Normally, Ryan welcomed this time of day. He loved the peace that came with nightfall in the mountains.
But not now. Not with Charlie’s life on the line.
They tramped through thick snow gathered around the side of the house to the barn.
A small door at the side of the barn opened under protest. Ryan flipped the switch illuminating the large empty space. The only things in the building were Pete’s old truck, his side-by-side, and his snowmobile.
This was Pete’s refuge. While he didn’t keep horses anymore, he came here and tinkered with woodworking, creating birdhouses and Christian themed plaques.
The last rays of sunlight filtered through the spaces in the walls. Dust motes danced through the rays.
“I can almost picture him here.” Charlie trailed her fingers along the worn workbench.
Ryan could as well. He and Pete used to ride snowmobiles up here during the winter. They’d take a thermos of hot coffee and a couple of sandwiches for lunch and spend the day riding.
Ryan swallowed deeply. He’d never get to ride with Pete again.
Charlie began searching some of the cabinets around the barn.
Ryan stepped behind her. “If he hid something about Abby’s death, he wouldn’t leave it out in the open for anyone to find.”
She nodded. “You’re right. Then we start where someone wouldn’t think to look.”
Ryan found the keys to Pete’s old truck. He went over and unlocked the door. He opened the glovebox. Nothing but the usual registration and proof of insurance. Pete’s old Glock that he kept there in case of trouble.
A search through the center console revealed nothing of value.
He returned to the workbench where Charlie was searching through an old file cabinet next to it.
She opened the top drawer and looked his way. “Maybe the lockbox is in here?”
In his opinion it didn’t make sense. Why leave something of value in a file cabinet for anyone to find? Despite being locked it wouldn’t take much to jimmy the lock.
“What’s in there?” he asked instead of voicing his concerns.
Charlie opened the top of two drawers. A few pieces of paper were all it contained. She picked up the first. “It’s a receipt for work on this truck.”
The bottom drawer contained more of the same. “Nothing else,” she said in frustration. She straightened and looked around the barn. “Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place.”
The house was clear. If not in the barn, then where would Pete hide something important?
Without considering his actions, Ryan tapped along the side of another metal cabinet. A dull hollow sound filled the tense silence.
“You hear that?”
“I do.” Charlie came over.
