Avery’s pulse quickened. Though she hadn’t noticed any other footprints in the layer of dust on the floor, she couldn’t rule out this basement. What if it had another entrance they had yet to discover?
Once again, Grant, holding the gun, was first down the steps.
Avery followed close behind, shining the light around him as best she could. The stairs were narrow and steep, leading down to an earthen basement beneath the house. Wooden shelves lined one wall with a few dust-covered canning jars with questionable contents that had been abandoned with the building.
The floor was dirt. The space was really too small to house a still. If the women had been here, they would have had dirt particles in their hair along with the barley.
“This isn’t the place,” Avery whispered as if speaking loudly would stir up ghosts.
“I agree, but we should at least check the upstairs and the shed behind the house.”
Avery led the way up the stairs, shining the beam of the flashlight down on the steps for him to benefit from the light.
They spent another few minutes on the upper story, finding more food wrappers, beer cans and old blankets.
“I imagine either someone homeless or local teens once used this place to hide out or party,” Grant surmised. “But I’d say it’s been a while.”
Avery nodded as she stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine, glad to be out in the fresh air.
The shed behind the house leaned to the right. The door hung loose; the boards were a weathered gray. Inside were a few rusted tools and a broken wooden crate.
“Okay then, on to the next place.”
Once back at the vehicle, Avery keyed in the address and sat back. “This place is a couple of miles out of town.”
His cellphone pinged. Avery glanced down at the screen. “Incoming text from Swede. He says his tap into the electric company’s database identified several addresses with spikes in their electric bill from last year to this. He listed the addresses.” Avery checked the addresses against those they’d collected at the courthouse. “Only two match. One is on the same road as the address we’re heading for now.” She looked at the notes on that one. “The house belongs to a Richard Atkins, purchased over thirty years ago. Electric usage jumped by over fifty percent from this time last year.”
“We should check that one first,” Grant said.
Avery adjusted the address on the map application. “It’s one of the occupied homes. We might need a warrant to look around.”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask the occupants first.”
“As long as they don’t shoot first,” Avery murmured.
“Text the sheriff our location,” Grant said.
Avery did and sat back, studying the roadsides, the houses scattered along the way and the fields with cattle grazing peacefully when women were being murdered in that county.
The GPS led them to a rutted dirt road with trees and underbrush crowding the tracks.
“Think we should park out here and walk in?” she said.
“I think we should drive past, park up the road and walk back in,” Grant said.
“You realize we’re in Texas.” Avery cocked an eyebrow. “We can be legally shot for trespassing.”
“Then we go in stealth mode,” he said.
“There’s another dirt road ahead on the left,” Avery pointed.
Grant didn’t slow. “First, we need to let the car behind us go by.” He slowed on a straight stretch to allow the vehicle to pass.
The driver slowed as well and didn’t pass.
“Okay, we’ll have to turn on the next road to lose him,” Grant said and increased his speed.
Avery pointed ahead. “There. I believe that’s another county road on the right.”
