The wind whipped the freezing rain sideways, and she pulled her hood closer over her head.
“Why don’t you wait in the truck until they’re finished, and then I’ll help you search.” Huck used the question form, but his tone suggested a command. His overprotective side had just reemerged.
She wanted to argue but couldn’t see any reason to stay in the rain, so she ran over to the truck and jumped inside, looking back to talk to the dog. “Jason Abbott isn’t somebody who would drive off a cliff,” she said, as Aeneas watched her with his soft black eyes. “If anything, he’s headed to a city to continue hunting people.”
Except that wasn’t right either. She knew he wouldn’t be able to let go of his fantasies of killing Abigail and Laurel. He just couldn’t. It wasn’t in his nature. She tried to think through the entire case for a good twenty minutes until Huck returned.
“They’re about finished, so we can search. But I have to tell you, there’s not much around. The deputy I sent to Widow’s Peak didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but the wind and rain have been wild.” Huck’s radio buzzed, and he pressed the button on the device attached to his dash. “Rivers.”
“It’s Sheriff York. I headed to the base of the cliff like you asked.”
Huck leaned inside, bringing the scent of pine and rain with him. “Hi, Sheriff. What have you found?”
“I found a burning truck by the edge of the river.”
Laurel shut her eyes.
Huck exhaled loudly. “Is there a body in the truck?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s a body in the truck. It’s burnt almost beyond recognition. I’ve had to call in the state cops on this one. We don’t have enough manpower,” York said loudly, the wind combatting his voice.
Laurel focused on the radio. “Did you see anything else?”
“I can’t get close enough. The truck is still burning. All I can see is a body and a skull on the dash.”
“That’s all right,” Laurel said wearily. “I think we know who it is.”
Huck clicked the radio back into place. “Does Jason Abbott seem like someone who’d kill himself?”
“No,” Laurel said, every bone in her body aching. “There’s no way Jason Abbott would’ve ended his own life. He was a narcissist, and he was out for revenge. There’s only one person I can think of smart enough to kill him.”
Huck’s phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear. “Yeah? . . . Really? . . . All right, thanks. Bye.”
She didn’t like his tone. “What is it?”
“The Genesis Valley police officer I sent to Abigail’s home found her in her nightgown, obviously fresh out of bed. She was irritated to have been awakened and happily gave the CCTV footage from her house to the officer.”
“Her camera faces just the front of the home and that whole street but not the backyard, correct?” Laurel asked.
“Yes. I’m having the officer go door to door to retrieve all of the CCTV he can.”
She slumped farther down in her seat. “They won’t find anything.”
“I know.”
* * *
After an essentially sleepless night, Laurel ignored a call from the deputy director of the FBI as Huck parked in the long field in front of the Genesis Valley Community Church.
He glanced at her phone. “You’re not answering George’s call?”
“Not right now.” She feared he’d pull her off the case, and her blood hummed in the way it always did when she was getting closer to answers.
“Stay there.” Huck opened his door and stepped out.
Why in the world would she stay there?
He crossed around the truck and opened her door. “It’s icy out here.”
