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“And Klaus Polczieski, photographic artist, has a list of all of those buildings.”
“So we look through his photos and see what other buildings Martin Holland designed and built. That will give us a short list.”
“Let’s hope it’s really short,” Michael said.
Faith nodded grimly and sat at the small dinette table, pulling out her phone and navigating to the website. Forster and Michael looked over her shoulder while she made a list of locations.
It was tedious work, and Faith had to fight to keep calm as she worked her way through the list of hundreds of buildings.
Holland Construction was a popular company back in the sixties and seventies. During that time, they had built no fewer than fifty-seven structures that now lay abandoned. Three of them had already been used for murder, and one of them had been cleared when Faith and Michael had arrested Klaus there. That left fifty-three to investigate, spread over three counties.
Far too many.
“Is there a way we can narrow it down?” Michael asked. “Maybe limit it to grain silos and storm shelters?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s preferring those building types. I think it’s just what he happened to use. What matters is that they belonged to his grandfather.”
“Why does that matter?” Michael asked. “He doesn’t own the properties still.”
“It’s in his patient file,” Faith explained. “He feels a connection to his grandfather.”
Michael sighed. “So we have to look through fifty buildings and hope that our victim is in one of them and that she hasn’t bled out by the time we get to her.”
“Failing that, maybe we’ll get lucky enough to catch Holden and make him pay for her death and the others,” Faith offered.
Michael sighed. “Well, it’s a crap choice, but I guess it’s all we have right now.”
“I’ll call the State Patrol and the Sioux City PD,” Forster said. “We’ll get everyone looking through these locations right now.”
“Good,” Faith replied. “Let’s hope it’s not too late.”
“Faith, you want to take this one?” Michael asked, pointing at what looked like an old airplane hangar. “It’s ten minutes away,” Michael said. “That’s the closest one to us. Might as well be doing something other than sitting here and stewing.”
“Works for me,” Fatih said. To Forster, she said,” We’ll keep our radios on. If you find anything, let us know.”
“Ten-four,” the sergeant replied.
They filed out of the house, and Faith fought to quell the panic that hovered just below the surface.
She had been in this situation before, she reminded herself. On their last case, Michael and Faith had pursued a killer who buried his victims alive in graveyards and had to rush to save a nurse who would have been his last victim. They had gotten to her in time. They could get to Shirley in time.
She tried to convince herself, but the panic remained, waiting for an opportunity to consume her.
***
Michael pushed open the door to the hangar, grunting with effort as the rusted doors protested. Faith shined her light inside and swore. The building was empty. No sign that anyone had been inside in decades.
“Well, we can cross this one off,” Faith said, holstering her weapon. “What’s the next one on the list?”
Michael checked it. “Next one’s a storm shelter. Sioux City PD is handling that one. One after that is a grain silo that State Patrol’s taking. We have a choice between…” he scanned the list, “A grain silo six miles south of here or another airplane hangar on an old wheat farm fourteen miles north. Which one do you want?”
Faith hesitated a moment. The grain silo was closer, but that meant that the police would reach it sooner. Realistically, they might not reach either in time, but Faith needed to make a decision somehow. “We’ll take the hangar,” she replied. “We’ll start on the outside and look in.”
“Works for me,” Michael said.
The drive took twenty minutes. To Faith, it seemed like twenty hours. Every minute that passed, Faith was sure they were going to hear on the radio that they were too late and Forster or one of the other officers had found Shirley dead.
She pushed the panic down and concentrated on what to do if they found Shirley. Michael knew CPR, and they had a basic first aid kit in the cruiser. Faith knew that likely wouldn’t be of much use for the kind of wounds Holland left, but if Michael could at least keep her alive until paramedics arrived, then they would have all the equipment they needed.
