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“Thank you for that,” Faith replied drily. “Any idea when Corinne might be here?”
She heard the rumble of an old diesel motor and looked outside to see an ancient Ford Super Duty pickup pull in front of the building.
“That’ll be her,” Folsom replied.
Corinne Andrews was almost identical in appearance to Brady Folsom, lacking only the moustache and Adam's apple. She tossed the keys to Folsom, who caught them in one hand and nodded to her. Corinne nodded to the two agents and sat down behind the desk without a word or another glance their way.
“You coming?” Folsom asked.
Faith and Michael exchanged a glance and followed the gruff officer to the truck.
The grain silo was only slightly less haunting than the storm shelter. The top half of the silo had been sheared away, probably by a tornado, and jagged spikes of steel rebar with chunks of concrete still attached twisted their way into the sky like clawed fingers grasping for air. Faith shivered and followed Folsom and Michael into the silo.
The interior was far more spacious than the entryway of the storm shelter. The floor was bare dirt littered with sticks, leaves and moist piles of moss and fungus that released a sickeningly fruity odor into the air. Faith saw a dirty brown stain on the ground near the door of the silo, the only sign that this had been a crime scene only a few days prior.
“Body was here,” Folsom pointed out. “Looks like she bled out here. Whoever killed her didn’t stick around to watch her die.”
“You’re sure of that?” Faith asked.
He removed his Smokey the Bear hat and scratched a prominent bald spot in the center of his head. “Well, I guess not,” he corrected. “But I’m pretty sure she couldn’t see him. The body was found face down near the door. Looks like she fell there trying to get it open. If she could see him, she probably would have faced him to protect herself or beg for mercy. I’m just guessing about that, I suppose.”
“You’re probably right,” Faith allowed. “It’s consistent with what we saw at the other scene.”
Brady nodded, pleased with himself for contributing something. “Pity that she died the way she did,” he opined. “She was a downright handsome woman.”
Or one of the many other possible life choices available to a woman, Faith thought privately but didn’t say aloud. “So you don’t suspect anyone in your town of being involved?”
Folsom chuckled and shook his head. “No, we’re a simple fold, Agent. It would take an awful lot to get one of us to kill someone. Besides, she was from out of town. No one would have any reason to want her dead.”
“You’ve said twice now that she was from out of town,” Michael replied. “So why was she here?”
He removed his hat and scratched his bald spot again. “Well, I don’t rightly know. If I had to guess, I’d say the killer just wanted somewhere out of the way where no one would ever look for her. This farm’s been abandoned for over ten years. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone here since before the turn of the century.”
Faith sighed. That was a plausible explanation, which frustrated her because it meant they still had no leads. “You notice anything, Turk?” she asked.
Turk, who had spent the entire time sniffing carefully at the ground, shook his head and barked irritably. He strode to Faith and whined, dipping his head and shaking it from side to side. He pawed at his nose, and Faith realized that the ammonia Dr. West had sprayed him with was still affecting him.
“That’s okay, boy,” she said, smiling to hide the worry she felt at his injury.
His sense of smell had helped Faith immensely on several past cases, particularly cases like this one where there was little in the way of helpful evidence for them to go off of. If he wasn’t a hundred percent, it could make solving these murders very difficult.
“We’ll be okay,” she repeated for her own benefit as she stood. “All right, Officer Folsom. If there’s nothing else you can tell us, then we should head back.”
Folsom nodded. He looked back at the dirty brown bloodstain, and Faith saw the first and only sign of compassion in his eyes. "Damned fine woman," he repeated sadly.
***
Sioux City conveniently happened to be the closest major town to both crime scenes, so Faith and Michael opted to stay there. It was fairly small as far as cities went but large enough to have a comfortable assortment of amenities. That meant that Faith and Michael could order pizza delivered to their hotel room and continue to work on the case.
Faith glanced from her laptop at Michael, who stood outside on his cell phone. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but the expression on his face told her who he was talking to.
She felt a pang of guilt and wished there was something she could do to make up for her mistake with Ellie. If she could go back in time and erase that suspicion from her mind…
But then again, shehadbeen looking in the right direction in a sense. Turk had noticed that something was off about her, and Faith’s mind had kept returning her direction. In the end, Ellie might not have been the killer, but she was closely associated with him, having been married to him for years prior to meeting Michael. It was unfortunate that she happened to be her best friend’s fiancé, but it had led her to learn the Copycat Killer’s identity, and if that could also lead to his arrest and execution, then Faith would have to say it was worth the pain.
Not that Michael would ever see it that way.
He walked back into the room, glowering. “How is she?” Faith asked.
