Avilles said.
Beth liked him better for that.
“Let’s keep it at two,” she said, remembering Jack Kale’s comment about the number of people walking a crime scene. “Any more and we risk contamination. You okay with that?”
Avilles nodded.
“Sheriff?” Beth asked.
“Makes sense,” Blaylock said. “We’ll guard the front door. I don’t know if you’ll have reception down there, but try to stay in touch with your cell phone so we know you’re all right.”
Beth pulled her phone out and examined the screen. “Two bars,” she said. “I’ll keep going as long as I can.” She turned to Pappas and asked, “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“As soon as I clear the area, you follow.”
Pappas nodded.
Grateful she’d worn slacks that day, Beth lowered herself down the ladder rung by rung. Pappas and Avilles used their flashlights to light the way. At the midpoint, Beth paused and looked closer at the rung level with her eyes.
“Got a blue thread here,” she announced, placing it in an evidence bag.
“Betsy Ann’s mom told me she was wearing a blue blouse when she left home,” Avilles said.
The lower she got, the more she became conscious of a dank smell hovering in the darkness. Her heart was beating faster, so much so that she had to force herself to take several breaths to slow her respiration down.
The room they’d seen from above was nothing more than an irregular opening at the bottom of the ladder. It couldn’t have been more than six feet square. She assumed a combat stance and swept her light and gun back and forth until she was satisfied there were no threats. The light revealed a series of wooden two-by-eight boards jammed into the walls for support. They were frail with age and did nothing to increase her comfort level. Ahead, the tunnel’s blackness swallowed her flashlight beam. The roof was only an inch or two above her head and supported by more of the beams.
Pappas won’t be happy.
“Clear, Dan,” she called up. “Watch your head when you come down. It’s pretty tight.”
The big detective began his descent. When he reached the bottom, there was barely enough room for them to stand shoulder to shoulder.
“Nice place you got here,” he grumbled.
“Yeah.”
“Any idea how far it runs?” he said, squinting down the tunnel.
Beth shook her head. Although it was cooler below the barn, her face was bathed in perspiration.
“You okay?” Pappas asked.
“Fine. Let’s—”
Pappas put a meaty hand on her shoulder and said, “My wife hates basements, too. Let’s take it slow and easy, okay?”
“Slow and easy,” Beth repeated.
“Check the ground every few feet for trip wires.”
“Trip wires?” Beth said.
Pappas explained further. “I was in Desert Storm. The Taliban loved to booby-trap homes we were trying to clear.”
“That’s wonderful, Dan. I feel loads better now.”
“It pays to be cautious.”
Beth nodded her agreement. “Ready?”
“Still want the lead?” Pappas asked.
“No, but I got it,” Beth said.
Widthwise, the tunnel was uncomfortably narrow with barely enough clearance for her shoulders. It was worse for Pappas. In order to negotiate his way, the detective had to turn sideways. He called thesheriff on his cell phone to let him know they were moving out. After a hundred feet, the air began to feel heavy, making breathing difficult.
“Fuck,” Pappas said, startling her.
She spun around and leveled her flashlight at him. “What?”
“Just tore my goddamn jacket on an exposed nail,” he said. “Monica’s gonna kill me.”
“You scared the hell out of me,” Beth said. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll live.”
With that, they started forward again as the darkness closed around them. After another fifty feet, Pappas’s phone lost reception. He stuck it in his pocket. Beth gradually came to a halt and listened. Somewhere, not far off, water was dripping.
“You hear that?” she said.
“Yep. Keep
Beth liked him better for that.
“Let’s keep it at two,” she said, remembering Jack Kale’s comment about the number of people walking a crime scene. “Any more and we risk contamination. You okay with that?”
Avilles nodded.
“Sheriff?” Beth asked.
“Makes sense,” Blaylock said. “We’ll guard the front door. I don’t know if you’ll have reception down there, but try to stay in touch with your cell phone so we know you’re all right.”
Beth pulled her phone out and examined the screen. “Two bars,” she said. “I’ll keep going as long as I can.” She turned to Pappas and asked, “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“As soon as I clear the area, you follow.”
Pappas nodded.
Grateful she’d worn slacks that day, Beth lowered herself down the ladder rung by rung. Pappas and Avilles used their flashlights to light the way. At the midpoint, Beth paused and looked closer at the rung level with her eyes.
“Got a blue thread here,” she announced, placing it in an evidence bag.
“Betsy Ann’s mom told me she was wearing a blue blouse when she left home,” Avilles said.
The lower she got, the more she became conscious of a dank smell hovering in the darkness. Her heart was beating faster, so much so that she had to force herself to take several breaths to slow her respiration down.
The room they’d seen from above was nothing more than an irregular opening at the bottom of the ladder. It couldn’t have been more than six feet square. She assumed a combat stance and swept her light and gun back and forth until she was satisfied there were no threats. The light revealed a series of wooden two-by-eight boards jammed into the walls for support. They were frail with age and did nothing to increase her comfort level. Ahead, the tunnel’s blackness swallowed her flashlight beam. The roof was only an inch or two above her head and supported by more of the beams.
Pappas won’t be happy.
“Clear, Dan,” she called up. “Watch your head when you come down. It’s pretty tight.”
The big detective began his descent. When he reached the bottom, there was barely enough room for them to stand shoulder to shoulder.
“Nice place you got here,” he grumbled.
“Yeah.”
“Any idea how far it runs?” he said, squinting down the tunnel.
Beth shook her head. Although it was cooler below the barn, her face was bathed in perspiration.
“You okay?” Pappas asked.
“Fine. Let’s—”
Pappas put a meaty hand on her shoulder and said, “My wife hates basements, too. Let’s take it slow and easy, okay?”
“Slow and easy,” Beth repeated.
“Check the ground every few feet for trip wires.”
“Trip wires?” Beth said.
Pappas explained further. “I was in Desert Storm. The Taliban loved to booby-trap homes we were trying to clear.”
“That’s wonderful, Dan. I feel loads better now.”
“It pays to be cautious.”
Beth nodded her agreement. “Ready?”
“Still want the lead?” Pappas asked.
“No, but I got it,” Beth said.
Widthwise, the tunnel was uncomfortably narrow with barely enough clearance for her shoulders. It was worse for Pappas. In order to negotiate his way, the detective had to turn sideways. He called thesheriff on his cell phone to let him know they were moving out. After a hundred feet, the air began to feel heavy, making breathing difficult.
“Fuck,” Pappas said, startling her.
She spun around and leveled her flashlight at him. “What?”
“Just tore my goddamn jacket on an exposed nail,” he said. “Monica’s gonna kill me.”
“You scared the hell out of me,” Beth said. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll live.”
With that, they started forward again as the darkness closed around them. After another fifty feet, Pappas’s phone lost reception. He stuck it in his pocket. Beth gradually came to a halt and listened. Somewhere, not far off, water was dripping.
“You hear that?” she said.
“Yep. Keep
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