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Authors: Terri Persons
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looked down at the picture without touching it. “So this is the dead kid. Who was she? What was her name?”
“Recognize her?” Bernadette asked.
“Nope,” said Ashe.
Garcia: “Are you sure? Take a good look.”
“That’s enough,” said Ashe, raising a palm. “You want anything else, I call an attorney.”
“Are you guilty of anything?” asked Bernadette.
“No,” Ashe snapped.
“Then you don’t need a lawyer,” said Bernadette.
“Talk to us now and we’ll keep it low-key,” said Garcia. “We just have a few more questions. You might have seen something that you don’t even recognize as a clue.”
“A girl was brutally murdered, a young girl,” said Bernadette. “We could really use your help.”
“I’m sorry, but I was inside all day. I can’t help.”
Garcia: “If you’ll just—”
“No,” said Ashe, bolting up from the couch. “I’m done.”
Garcia and Bernadette exchanged glances. They both stood.
Ashe went over to the front door and yanked it open, sending a cold draft rolling into the room. “Hurry up. I’m not paying to heat the outside.”
As Bernadette followed Garcia out the door, she extended a business card to Ashe. “In case something comes to you.”
The woman looked at the card for several seconds and finally snatched it out of Bernadette’s hand. “I’ll let you know if I have a vision.”
The door slammed after the two agents.
“See anything in the bedrooms?” asked Bernadette as they walked to the truck.
“Dirty laundry and sheets for curtains,” said Garcia. “Balls of dog hair on the floor. Nice place.”
Bernadette looked over her shoulder at the paper-covered windows. “She’s hiding something.”
Ashe peeked through a slit between the papers, watching until the two agents pulled away. As soon as they were out of sight, she left the windows and walked back and forth across the front room. When she got to the Christmas tree, she booted a box of glass balls. The carton slammed against the wall and the ornaments exploded in an eruption of red, green, gold, and silver.
She turned on her heel, marched into the kitchen, and flicked her cigarette into the sink. She studied the phone sitting on the kitchen counter. What if that male agent had planted bugs in her house while he was alone in the front room? What if they were tapping her landline? Could they tap her cell? She didn’t think so. No wires. Have to have wires to wiretap, right?
She told herself she was being ridiculous. She locked her hands over the edge of the kitchen counter, closed her eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath. “I am a stone in an ancient circle … I am a stone in an ancient circle … I am a stone in an ancient circle.”
She stood straight, zipped up her vest, and went outside. As she jogged to the barn, she muttered a prayer under her breath: “Lady of the moon, lord of the sun, protect me and mine.”
The dogs gathered around her as she entered. She contemplated letting them outside, in case the agents came back, but that man had a gun and seemed ready to use it. Bastard. She didn’t want to put her precious puppies in harm’s way. Putting her hand on one of the dogs’ heads, she whispered, “Don’t worry.”
Ashe locked the barn door so that no one could surprise her and extracted her cell phone from her apron pocket. She punched in a number and with a trembling hand lifted the phone to her ear. An answering machine picked up, and she closed the phone with a snap. She couldn’t leave a message. The wrong person might hear it.
She opened the phone and punched in another number. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she chanted while pacing the length of the barn. She put a hand to her forehead. “Please pick up. Please. Mother Goddess, make someone pick up the fucking phone!”
Mother Goddess apparently heard. After ten rings, someone answered.
Her voice cracking, Ashe said into the phone, “We have a problem.”
CHAPTER NINE
B ack on Minnesota
“Recognize her?” Bernadette asked.
“Nope,” said Ashe.
Garcia: “Are you sure? Take a good look.”
“That’s enough,” said Ashe, raising a palm. “You want anything else, I call an attorney.”
“Are you guilty of anything?” asked Bernadette.
“No,” Ashe snapped.
“Then you don’t need a lawyer,” said Bernadette.
“Talk to us now and we’ll keep it low-key,” said Garcia. “We just have a few more questions. You might have seen something that you don’t even recognize as a clue.”
“A girl was brutally murdered, a young girl,” said Bernadette. “We could really use your help.”
“I’m sorry, but I was inside all day. I can’t help.”
Garcia: “If you’ll just—”
“No,” said Ashe, bolting up from the couch. “I’m done.”
Garcia and Bernadette exchanged glances. They both stood.
Ashe went over to the front door and yanked it open, sending a cold draft rolling into the room. “Hurry up. I’m not paying to heat the outside.”
As Bernadette followed Garcia out the door, she extended a business card to Ashe. “In case something comes to you.”
The woman looked at the card for several seconds and finally snatched it out of Bernadette’s hand. “I’ll let you know if I have a vision.”
The door slammed after the two agents.
“See anything in the bedrooms?” asked Bernadette as they walked to the truck.
“Dirty laundry and sheets for curtains,” said Garcia. “Balls of dog hair on the floor. Nice place.”
Bernadette looked over her shoulder at the paper-covered windows. “She’s hiding something.”
Ashe peeked through a slit between the papers, watching until the two agents pulled away. As soon as they were out of sight, she left the windows and walked back and forth across the front room. When she got to the Christmas tree, she booted a box of glass balls. The carton slammed against the wall and the ornaments exploded in an eruption of red, green, gold, and silver.
She turned on her heel, marched into the kitchen, and flicked her cigarette into the sink. She studied the phone sitting on the kitchen counter. What if that male agent had planted bugs in her house while he was alone in the front room? What if they were tapping her landline? Could they tap her cell? She didn’t think so. No wires. Have to have wires to wiretap, right?
She told herself she was being ridiculous. She locked her hands over the edge of the kitchen counter, closed her eyes, and took a deep, cleansing breath. “I am a stone in an ancient circle … I am a stone in an ancient circle … I am a stone in an ancient circle.”
She stood straight, zipped up her vest, and went outside. As she jogged to the barn, she muttered a prayer under her breath: “Lady of the moon, lord of the sun, protect me and mine.”
The dogs gathered around her as she entered. She contemplated letting them outside, in case the agents came back, but that man had a gun and seemed ready to use it. Bastard. She didn’t want to put her precious puppies in harm’s way. Putting her hand on one of the dogs’ heads, she whispered, “Don’t worry.”
Ashe locked the barn door so that no one could surprise her and extracted her cell phone from her apron pocket. She punched in a number and with a trembling hand lifted the phone to her ear. An answering machine picked up, and she closed the phone with a snap. She couldn’t leave a message. The wrong person might hear it.
She opened the phone and punched in another number. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she chanted while pacing the length of the barn. She put a hand to her forehead. “Please pick up. Please. Mother Goddess, make someone pick up the fucking phone!”
Mother Goddess apparently heard. After ten rings, someone answered.
Her voice cracking, Ashe said into the phone, “We have a problem.”
CHAPTER NINE
B ack on Minnesota
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