smaller scratches and dings of the lighter had been smoothed over again and again by the frequent use of its owner.
But there were deeper, more purposeful etchings on its face. Jessica stared at the deliberate design and froze. The markings were clear. Staring back at Jessica were the three leaves of a shamrock with a dagger cutting a jagged edge through it. Pear shaped drops leaked from the wound. Reddish brown clots were stuck to the hinge.
The sound of the main barn door rolling open struck her ears. Instantly she thrust the lighter into her pocket and sprung, catlike, back up the ladder to the loft. Silently, she scrambled her way back into her igloo, pulling the hay bales over the opening and waited.
“No sir, Nooo sir! I ain’t heard or seen nothing all day around the barn.” Jason’s voice drifted upward to the loft. Jessica listened to the crunching of dirt underneath feet as the men walked through the barn.
“Right here is where I found Gus. Jest right here layin’ in a pool a’ blood. ‘Is guts jest spillin’ out and everything and—”
“Yeah, thanks. We saw the pictures and read the reports. I don’t see any blood here now. Why?”
“Hey, Coogan, back off for a second. I want to hear again for myself what he has to say.” Officer Shea stepped forward into the shaft of sunlight. Dust swirled around him.
Coogan looked at his young charge with surprise then back to surveying the ground. “I gave you your opportunity to ask questions on our first visit. What’d cha do? Go back to your academy notes and memorize a few more? Just watch and listen,” he sneered. He returned his focus to the ground. “You cleaned this area up?”
The groom looked nervously at the two men. “Well, I... I hope I didn’t do nothing wrong. Ah, I thought you and your men said it was okay to Cleanup that mess. The smell was makin’ the hosses real skittery-like. I shoveled up the mess an’ tossed some clean dirt around. I, um, I just did it this mornin’. I... I thought it was okay. Er, I thought you said it was okay.”
Coogan tried to hide his irritation. “Well, then, why don’t you just show me where you threw the dirt and stuff then, all right? You say you didn’t find anything else?”
“Nope. Nope. No sir. I tossed the dirt way back on the manure pile out that door. I’ll show ya.”
Shea began to walk with the two men in the direction of the dung heap. Coogan turned, “You stay here. I want you to listen for updates on the fire.”
Shea looked out over the grounds. Wyeth’s Worldwind Farm was beautiful. The old farmhouse stood off to one side, apart from the larger barn to the right of where he stood. Brick paths led to gardens and the other buildings. He nodded absently at the men taking large boxes from the house marked ‘EVIDENCE’ into a waiting van.
He thought over the events of the past two days. Hamilton was a sleepy little town where nothing of consequence happened and now a murder and an explosion. Shea didn’t like the feel of it. He listened to the radio crack updates on the tavern explosion. It was a gas leak in some shabby hole of a place the next town over. They were combing the rubble for anything suspicious when they found two bodies. One body was quickly identified as the owner. The other body was nearly completely incinerated and had been crushed by falling beams. They had taken the remains back to the lab for identification.
A burst of static broke into his thoughts. “Patrol 37. Come in, please. Patrol 37.” Shea walked over to the car and leaned in its open window. He grabbed the hand unit of the radio and depressed the transmit button with his thumb.
“Shea here.” He tried to sound official.
The dispatcher’s voice came over the air. “Keenan in Forensics just ID’d the charred body from the fire. It was female, approximately five feet eight inches tall, about 20 to 25 years of age. He tagged it as ‘Jessica Wyeth.’ Copy?”
Shea stared in disbelief.
But there were deeper, more purposeful etchings on its face. Jessica stared at the deliberate design and froze. The markings were clear. Staring back at Jessica were the three leaves of a shamrock with a dagger cutting a jagged edge through it. Pear shaped drops leaked from the wound. Reddish brown clots were stuck to the hinge.
The sound of the main barn door rolling open struck her ears. Instantly she thrust the lighter into her pocket and sprung, catlike, back up the ladder to the loft. Silently, she scrambled her way back into her igloo, pulling the hay bales over the opening and waited.
“No sir, Nooo sir! I ain’t heard or seen nothing all day around the barn.” Jason’s voice drifted upward to the loft. Jessica listened to the crunching of dirt underneath feet as the men walked through the barn.
“Right here is where I found Gus. Jest right here layin’ in a pool a’ blood. ‘Is guts jest spillin’ out and everything and—”
“Yeah, thanks. We saw the pictures and read the reports. I don’t see any blood here now. Why?”
“Hey, Coogan, back off for a second. I want to hear again for myself what he has to say.” Officer Shea stepped forward into the shaft of sunlight. Dust swirled around him.
Coogan looked at his young charge with surprise then back to surveying the ground. “I gave you your opportunity to ask questions on our first visit. What’d cha do? Go back to your academy notes and memorize a few more? Just watch and listen,” he sneered. He returned his focus to the ground. “You cleaned this area up?”
The groom looked nervously at the two men. “Well, I... I hope I didn’t do nothing wrong. Ah, I thought you and your men said it was okay to Cleanup that mess. The smell was makin’ the hosses real skittery-like. I shoveled up the mess an’ tossed some clean dirt around. I, um, I just did it this mornin’. I... I thought it was okay. Er, I thought you said it was okay.”
Coogan tried to hide his irritation. “Well, then, why don’t you just show me where you threw the dirt and stuff then, all right? You say you didn’t find anything else?”
“Nope. Nope. No sir. I tossed the dirt way back on the manure pile out that door. I’ll show ya.”
Shea began to walk with the two men in the direction of the dung heap. Coogan turned, “You stay here. I want you to listen for updates on the fire.”
Shea looked out over the grounds. Wyeth’s Worldwind Farm was beautiful. The old farmhouse stood off to one side, apart from the larger barn to the right of where he stood. Brick paths led to gardens and the other buildings. He nodded absently at the men taking large boxes from the house marked ‘EVIDENCE’ into a waiting van.
He thought over the events of the past two days. Hamilton was a sleepy little town where nothing of consequence happened and now a murder and an explosion. Shea didn’t like the feel of it. He listened to the radio crack updates on the tavern explosion. It was a gas leak in some shabby hole of a place the next town over. They were combing the rubble for anything suspicious when they found two bodies. One body was quickly identified as the owner. The other body was nearly completely incinerated and had been crushed by falling beams. They had taken the remains back to the lab for identification.
A burst of static broke into his thoughts. “Patrol 37. Come in, please. Patrol 37.” Shea walked over to the car and leaned in its open window. He grabbed the hand unit of the radio and depressed the transmit button with his thumb.
“Shea here.” He tried to sound official.
The dispatcher’s voice came over the air. “Keenan in Forensics just ID’d the charred body from the fire. It was female, approximately five feet eight inches tall, about 20 to 25 years of age. He tagged it as ‘Jessica Wyeth.’ Copy?”
Shea stared in disbelief.
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