Left to Kill (Adele Sharp #4) - Blake Pierce Page 0,66

cabin with an orange light glowing out.

Adele swallowed, standing at the foot of the dirt road. Her lips felt less numb all of a sudden. The cold seemed to recede. She took another step toward John’s flashlight beam, toward the road. She nudged her partner. “This has to be it,” she said.

John nodded. Adele pointed at the saplings. “Young trees. Broken plants means broken bones.”

“I still don’t get what that means,” said John.

Adele swallowed. Her mouth felt dry all of a sudden. “I think we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Should we call for backup? We don’t know how many of them are in there.”

Adele shook her head. “Dad said he saw two. Besides, we wasted hours finding my dad and then this cabin.” She glanced up toward the sky, and then back at the trail, illuminated in the beam of John’s flashlight. The bright yellow and white light competed with the orange glow from the cabin for dominance.

Adele shook her head once and stepped onto the dirt trail. The dirt crunched under foot as she moved up, heading for the cabin.

She spotted plants and neatly arranged vegetables in a small garden. Whoever had spent time out here certainly liked order. Everything had its place; most of the vegetables had small signs and support sticks for vines, but, given the season, had nothing growing yet. Others, winter plants, were neat, trimmed, pruned.

“Windows,” she said.

John’s weapon was already in his hand, and Adele’s hand was at her hip.

“Remember,” he said, “this is a hunch. They might be Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. They could be as nice as your dad says.”

“I’m not planning on shooting anyone. That’s your job.”

John’s eyes flitted across the orange windows. No curtains, and Adele spotted faint shadows moving against log beams in the back of the cabin.

“Not exactly private folk,” said John. “You’d think if they were killers, they might invest in some tinted windows.”

Adele took the steps, and she reached the porch of the single-story cabin. She raised her hand, glanced at John, and waited for him to shift just out of view of the doorframe. If needed, it would give them a brief second of surprise.

For a moment, Adele half expected a shotgun to suddenly appear through the window. When it didn’t happen, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

Her mind was racing, her heart in her throat. Then again, perhaps she was putting too much on this hunch. For all she knew, her father was right. These were just nice folks living off-grid. They had a nice garden.

A few moments passed, then the door opened.

Two people waited inside. Both of them were older than her father, gray-haired, both of them smiling. Adele was immediately confronted by a warmth emanating from the house, and the smell of food on the stove.

“Another guest,” the woman exclaimed, beaming. “Welcome, might I assume you’re law enforcement too?”

The man’s and the woman’s eyes flicked past Adele, spotting John just out of frame in the doorway.

“Interpol,” Adele said. “Are you Mr. and Mrs. Klose?”

“That’s us,” the woman said, still beaming. “And who might you be?”

So friendly, so disarming. Something felt off. Adele’s eyes narrowed. Instead of answering the question, she posed one of her own. “What do you mean law enforcement too?”

The man chuckled congenially. “Oh, nothing. We had another friend stop by last night. You’re welcome to a meal as well, if that’s what you’re after.”

He gave his wife a squeeze around the shoulders, and she leaned in, kissing him on the cheek.

Adele felt a sudden surge of embarrassment. These weren’t the evil, knife-wielding psychos she’d been expecting. Then again, when were they ever? She kept her cool. “I’m sorry, but we’re involved in a missing persons case. Would you mind if we look around the place?”

The man cleared his throat. “Did we do something, Officer?”

“Agent,” she said. “Agent Sharp. No—nothing. Just want to check this place off the list. That’s not a problem, is it?” She frowned at the couple, waiting expectantly.

The husband and wife shared a look.

“I can get a warrant if I have to,” Adele said, quietly.

But the man was already shaking his head. “No, don’t be silly. Anything to help the protectors of society. Knock yourselves out, look around the place.”

Adele nodded in gratitude, and John raised his eyebrows at her; a look she didn’t return.

They paused in the doorway. There wasn’t much of a house to begin with. Her eyes scanned the floor, looking for a basement entrance or trapdoor or some sort of stairwell.