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Why had they used Graham Laube’s shed?
Mitch felt like that question held the clue he needed, but he didn’t have any idea why they would’ve used that shed in particular. They could’ve built a shed on this land—they didn’t need to use someone else’s and risk getting caught.
So why do it?
He pressed his hands on the wall, hanging his head between his arms.
Why?
“Mitch, the tracks lead to the main road. We’ve lost them.”
He swore under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Drive the rest of this land. I want to know if there’s another structure here.”
When Jackson entered the room, Mitch asked, “Why did they use Graham’s shed? It makes no sense!”
Jackson looked thoughtful for a moment. “It was a risk, especially when they owned a property here, so there must be a reason they needed that particular location,” he said, thinking aloud.
Mitch paused as it hit him. “It’s the land,” he said, his voice but a whisper. “There are stories—myths, maybe—that there was an old river on that land,” Mitch said, walking from the room. “They said it had healing powers, and Christians used it for baptisms and healing. It’s considered spiritual land. It’s the perfect location for him. That’s why they used the shed regardless of the risk of getting caught. They would’ve watched that location for weeks, maybe months. Graham said it had been years since he’d been in the shed, so they would’ve known it was all but abandoned. If Camilla hadn’t escaped, it would’ve taken us a very long time to find it.
“He hasn’t gone back there—he might’ve seen us there—but maybe there’s another location,” Mitch said, his mind reeling. He grabbed his phone, dialing the station number. The officer on duty picked up but Mitch didn’t wait for him to finish his greeting.
“It’s Mitch. I need to speak to Graham Laube right now. Please get him to the nearest phone.”
“Yes, sir,” the officer said before the call was put on hold.
The seconds ticked past like they were hours. Mitch was pacing in a circle, watching the last of the sun melt into the horizon. The sky was almost black.
It wasn’t an omen—he refused to believe that.
“Mitch,” Graham said, sounding drained.
“Graham, the land you live on is considered spiritual land, right?” Mitch asked quickly as Jackson caught a pair of keys thrown his way from another officer and they climbed into the closest patrol car.
Graham scoffed. “So they say. Based on my luck, it’s hard to believe that—I’ve hardly been blessed.”
Mitch would feel sorry for the man later, but right now he didn’t care.
“Do you know where the old river used to run? Whose properties did it run through?”
“From the waterfalls, through the church property, Johnny’s and mine. That’s it, I think,” he said.
If Mitch hadn’t been sitting down, he might’ve fallen down.
Zoe’s property.
There was an old cottage at the end of the property—he only knew that from when he’d been trying to buy the house.
“Thank you!” Mitch said. “I’ll get you out of there soon, I promise!” He hung up and said to Jackson, “Drive! Go to Zoe’s!”
Jackson swung the car around and they tore off in that direction.
“Pass the main house,” Mitch said. “The next dirt road is supposed to go right through to the cottage. It was used as a house for the church caretaker,” Mitch said.
He wondered if Zoe had ever been inside it, or if she had, if she realized where she now was. That was assuming she was alive and conscious—a thought Mitch couldn’t focus on right now. He had to believe Peter toyed with his victims first, and while that likely meant he was torturing Zoe, at least she would be alive. He’d help her through whatever came next.
They sped down the road and Mitch prayed every second of the way she was still alive.
