case it might have evidence.
It left behind a gaping scar.
“Right there,” the man was saying, his voice harsh. “I couldn’t believe it. I was headed to the barn when I saw the red ribbon flapping in the wind. I didn’t know it was attached to a dead woman till I got close.”
Kir could imagine how easy it would be to spot the crimson ribbon against the backdrop of white. Was that why the killer had put it on the body? Or had the woman already been wearing it? “Do you have any security on the property?” he asked.
The farmer sent him a narrow-eyed glare. “This is all the security I need.” He waved the gun as if Kir had somehow overlooked the three-foot weapon.
Kir refused to be intimidated. He wasn’t a twelve-year-old boy who could be run off with a threat. “Did you notice anything unusual this morning?”
“Besides the dead woman?”
“Yeah, besides the dead woman.”
“Nope.”
Kir glanced around. He didn’t know what he was looking for. Hell, he wasn’t even sure why he was there. But he could almost feel his father urging him to continue the search. It was going to haunt him until he did everything in his power to discover whether or not there was a serial killer in Pike.
“There weren’t any tracks in the field?” he finally asked.
“To be honest, I didn’t pay any attention,” the older man admitted. “I was too busy trying to keep down my breakfast.”
Frustration bubbled though Kir, but before he could say something stupid and get himself shot, Lynne stepped between the two men.
“What about Rusty?”
Raymond looked confused. “What about him?”
“Did you hear him barking?”
The farmer paused, pondering the question. “We put him inside at night when it’s this cold, but if someone had pulled into our drive, he would have let us know.”
That meant they had to come from the opposite side of the field, Kir silently concluded. He turned, studying the thick woods. It would be the most secluded way to this area. Did whoever dumped the body know there was a dog here who barked at passing cars? Or had they just wanted to avoid the house?
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Raymond,” Lynne murmured. “Did you know the poor woman?”
“It looked like Sherry Higgins,” Raymond muttered, his ruddy face tightening at the horrifying memory. “Fraser’s daughter.”
Lynne offered a sympathetic frown. “I’ve seen her around town, but I didn’t really know her.”
“She took over Fraser’s trailer park after he died,” the older man explained. “She kept to herself most of the time, but I’m not sure she was well liked by her tenants. She kicked my nephew out of his trailer last year after he lost his job at the glove factory. And he wasn’t the only one.”
Kir was instantly reminded of the dude from the news who’d interrupted his lunch with Lynne. Perkins? Parker? Anyway, he’d mentioned that Sherry Higgins hadn’t been the most beloved member of the small community. Perhaps her killing was nothing more than retribution from an angry tenant.
“Do you have any names?” he demanded. “I’d like to talk to them.”
Kir swallowed a curse as Raymond stiffened at his abrupt demand. He’d been in Boston too long.
“I need to get back to my chores,” the older man muttered.
“Thanks for visiting with us, Raymond.” Lynne tried to smooth over the man’s ruffled feathers.
Raymond grunted, but before he walked away, he glanced toward Kir. “Sorry about your father, Jansen,” he said without warning. “He once spent an entire night helping me search for a missing calf. It must have been twenty below, but he never gave up. He was a good man.” There was a short pause. “A good sheriff.”
The gruff words meant more to Kir than any flowery speech. “He was.”
With another grunt, Raymond stomped toward his nearby barn, entering through the back door.
“Now what?” Lynne asked.
Kir glanced around. They couldn’t poke around here. Even if he hadn’t managed to annoy Raymond Warren, the farmer had made it clear he wanted them to leave.
Still, he wasn’t prepared to give up. He wanted to know who’d killed Sherry Higgins, and how the body had ended up in this field.
Crimson blood stains the pure white snow.
He pointed toward the distant line of trees. “I think I remember a road on the other side of this field. Is it still there?”
She nodded, immediately understanding his desire to check it out. “We can cut through Raymond’s orchard to reach it.”
They retraced their footsteps in silence, both moving with as much