Never Hesitate Page 3

  “No sign of that. The postmortem might tell more,” Andy said.

  "What's the time of death?" May asked.

  "At least a few hours ago. Probably late evening yesterday."

  "It might not be so easy," one of the other cops said from behind them. "This is a big tourist area. Lots of visitors in and out. Lots of people come up here for the fishing. Some of them camp for weeks. This might take a while, if she's come here alone. Or with her killer."

  Now, May was hyperventilating. "There has to be a way of checking."

  She stared around, looking at the wild, empty, forested area around her. This sure was out in the wilderness.

  The workings and layout of the park, who had been where, the presence of cameras, and the available parking and exits could be critical now, and every moment counted.

  The witness who had found her might know more. Quickly, May moved over to speak to the uniformed ranger who had found the body and was leaning against a tree, looking pale and sickened.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "I'm Deputy Moore," May introduced herself to the heavyset man, who looked paler than he should be under his fading summer suntan. He was tugging at the cuffs of his khaki ranger uniform, with Eagle Wilderness Park on the pocket, looking uneasy and ill.

  "I'm Park Ranger Paulson," he said. "Terrible circumstances, Deputy."

  "Do you usually drive this route in the mornings?" she asked.

  "Yes. I go from gate to gate, opening up to allow the public in, and this is my normal route. I always glance over at the dam. We've been watching it in case it obstructs the river too much, and then we'd need to remove a bit of the top of it."

  "And you saw her there?"

  "Yes. I saw immediately. I mean, it was so out of place, so shocking." He swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

  "Anything suspicious in the wilderness park? Any vehicles that shouldn't have been there, or people out of place?"

  "No, not that I saw at all. Everything seemed normal. Unfortunately it rained most of last night, so if someone had sneaked out, their tracks wouldn't be visible."

  "Is it easy to get into the park when the gates are locked?"

  He nodded. "Our gates are only locked to vehicles. We don't restrict hikers, or wildlife that needs to traverse the wider area. So there are many gaps allowing pedestrian access."

  Another thought occurred to May. "How many gates do you have?" she asked.

  "We have five gates in total. North, south, east, west, and emergency gates."

  "And all are locked at night?"

  "They are, yes."

  "Do all of them lead to parking areas?" May then asked.

  He nodded. "All of them lead to public parking lots except the emergency gate."

  "Okay," May said. She glanced at Owen, seeing that her deputy was on board with this. "I'm thinking that this crime might have been committed after the park closed."

  "This is a popular walking trail," the ranger agreed. "It would be difficult to do something like that here and not have a member of the public see you."

  "If that's the case, then the killer either grabbed her while she was here, or he brought her here in his car. He could have grabbed her elsewhere and used her car to come here, and then walked out on foot.” May nodded, satisfied with her logic under pressure. “So one way or another, her car is likely to be here now. If we search the parking lots, we might find it."

  "Sometimes a few vehicles are left here overnight," the ranger said. "Not so much this time of year, but especially in summer, as people camp in the park."

  Owen nodded. "So the killer might have known that a car left here wouldn't draw undue attention - at least until he'd gotten away on foot."

  "What about the raft?" Owen said.

  "I guess the raft could have been brought along if the car was big enough. Or he could have brought it here earlier, if he was a planner." She glanced again at the crude looking log raft. It was basic and homemade, but it had done its job of keeping the corpse afloat.

  "Let's go and search the parking lots."

  "If we go in a clockwise direction, the closest one to us now is south. That's where we came in," May said.

  "I didn't notice any cars there," Owen agreed.

  "Ok. We have to take this road out, and then turn right, and start looking from there."

  As May spoke, she saw the search party return from the woods. Their flashlights were turned off now, but from their demeanor and the discouraged slump of their shoulders, she guessed they hadn't found anything.

  Sheriff Jack was leading the team, and May rushed up to brief him. Meanwhile, Owen gave his car keys to one of the other police, and May knew he would ask them to drive his car to the police station, and that he’d now partner with her for the rest of the day.

  Sheriff Jack turned to her, questions in his eyes. She answered quickly.

  "Andy Baker has done some work and feels that the victim was murdered here, in the park. We're going to go and check the parking lots for any sign of an abandoned vehicle."

  Jack nodded. "Good call," he said. "We've searched the woods, but there's no sign of anyone hiding out there."

  His muddy boots attested to the thoroughness of that search. May hoped that she could uncover something that would lead to the next step.

  She climbed into her car, with Owen alongside. They headed out of the parking lot and turned right. Then, they drove along the narrow road, through the attractive and signposted park. May felt a sense of regret that it had been the scene of a terrible crime. It was a pretty, peaceful place, a haven of serenity, and a destination for lovers of nature. Why here, she thought, wondering if that was important.

  A few miles later they came to a notice board saying, "West Gate."

  May turned down the narrow road and arrived at the parking lot. It was empty. She wasn't surprised. It had been a rainy night. You would have to be a dedicated camper to want to set up a tent in that cold downpour.

  They headed back out of the parking lot and May continued her clockwise route.

  Ten minutes later, they came to the north gate. In the lot were a few vehicles. May saw the hood of one was still steaming slightly, and must have just arrived. Another was a parks vehicle that she thought was here to observe the situation and patrol. The third looked to have been there overnight; it was an old Land Rover that looked like it was thoroughly geared for camping. Even the vanity plate, InTents, pointed to that.

  "We should look it up anyway," she said to Owen, who nodded. Already her deputy was on his laptop, logging into the database.

  "It's slow," he said with an impatient frown. Normally the most patient of people, May was sometimes amused that he got frustrated with technology. She guessed that since he'd come from an accounting background before joining the police, he was used to systems working very fast. Government and police systems weren't always the same.

  Right now, the pressure was on them, and she wasn't amused either by this delay. She felt as frustrated as he was.

  "Okay," he said finally. "I'm in, and I can see this car belongs to a Mr. Stanley Montrose, aged sixty. He's had it for ten years."

  Not content with the bare details, Owen got on the phone. "I'm calling him," he said determinedly.

  The woman had been in her early thirties, but May couldn't rule out that it was potentially her father's car or her uncle's car or just a borrowed vehicle. Checking now would save wrong conclusions down the line. A moment later, Owen was on the phone to Stanley.

  "Mr. Montrose?" he asked.

  "That's me," a surprised voice replied.

  "Where are you now? It's the police here, and we've identified your car in the north gate parking lot of Eagle Wilderness Park."

  "I'm in the park right now, having coffee with my wife. Hoping for a drier day," he said.

  "Any problems? Anyone else with you?"

  "Just us,” he replied.

  "Thank you, sir. Enjoy your day and please, stay safe and be aware. We are here because of a serious crime incident in the park."

  "I will. Thanks for the heads up." The man sounded surprised, but not frightened.

  Owen cut the call. "Well, it's not him," he said.

  Time to keep looking, and drive to the east gate parking.

  May was now getting a feel for this scenic and well maintained park. She felt it was sad that a crime had been committed here, in what was a safe, peaceful sanctuary.

  There was the signboard for the east gate. Knowing that this was their last chance because the only other gate, the emergency gate, was presumably not for public parking, May turned in.

  Immediately, her eyes narrowed. There, in the parking lot, was a Mazda pickup that looked a few years old. It was covered in dew and had definitely been there overnight.

  Most telling of all, May saw immediately, the back was not fully closed but looked to have been pushed closed.

  Her mind immediately pictured a killer, parking the car, waiting patiently, and then walking around and lifting his victim out of the back. She could have been captured elsewhere and brought here in her car, but May also reminded herself that the killer could have overpowered her here, and simply dumped her in her own car, sneaking back on foot when the park was closed.

  She thought, for sure, they had found the car - the only abandoned looking vehicle in the park.

  If she was right, then the identity of the owner could give them a huge clue. After all, this woman could have been killed by someone she knew, someone close to her. A depressing number of crimes were committed exactly that way.

  Her name might lead them straight to her killer.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Okay, I've got the name here," Owen said to May, who crowded over, craning around to view the laptop screen.


  "Who is it?" she asked eagerly.

  "Faye Miller, aged thirty."

  May looked at the photo of the woman on the screen. She compared it to her mental image of the victim.

  "They're the same person," she said. "This victim is Faye Miller."

  Quickly, May called in the report of the abandoned vehicle. “We’ve found the victim’s car,” she told the officer on duty at Fairshore. “It’s in the east gate parking lot of the park. Her name is Faye Miller. Please can you send a team to search it and tow it, and will you update Sheriff Jack on this?”

  “Will do, and I’ll get the forensic team there as soon as possible,” the officer confirmed.

  Ending the call, May felt a pang of sadness at the fact that this woman now had a name - a name made her real. A name brought home the fact that she would have a family.

  But a name also meant that there was an opportunity to hunt down her killer, and that was what she had to focus on. Family were not always good people. Family might have killed her. It was time to find out more about them.

  "Who is Faye Miller? What can we get on her?"

  "I see here that she lives in Birchwood. But it seems like she moved here a year ago, from elsewhere in Minnesota."

  “Is she married?”

  “It looks like she’s divorced. No children according to this record.” Owen searched some more. “And I can’t find any family members living nearby.”

  May sighed. It was going to be down to questioning the neighbors, and since she had relocated recently, they might not know her that well. But there was one other avenue they could try.

  “How about a place of work? Does anything come up on the search?”

  “I’m looking.” Owen pressed more keys. “And looking, and looking. Jeez, these systems are slow. I think I’m going to see if social media is quicker.”

  Leaving the main database to do its leisurely work, Owen switched to social media, and went hunting for Faye Miller in Tamarack County.

  “I’m getting something here,” he said, sounding enthused.

  “Where does she work?”

  “She’s a bookkeeper, and it looks like her last job was with a local construction company. But looking here, May, I see she quit less than two months ago.”

  “She did? I wonder if there was trouble at work?” May thought out loud.

  "I've seen cases where construction companies don't always do things by the book," Owen agreed. "And there are a couple of the big guys in particular in our area that seem to be repeat offenders. I mean, how many times have you and I investigated complaints?"

  "Exactly," May said. "They can sometimes take shortcuts or bypass legislation, especially if they're doing something in an environmentally sensitive area. Maybe that happened here, and she found out and tried to put the brakes on it."

  Something, after all, had to account for the ultra-strange circumstances of this crime. The environmental angle might have been a backlash, or else, designed to be deliberately misleading when investigated.

  “A bookkeeper might uncover irregularities in the finances, also. People can and do kill to keep that from getting into the open,” Owen said, nodding knowledgeably as if thinking about his own accounting background.

  “Which company is it? I think we must head there, now.”

  Owen took another look at the social media page.

  “The company is called World of Homes, and its head offices are in Chestnut Hill.”

  Owen pointed the car toward the main road that would lead them to the office, and they headed off.

  While Owen drove, May looked up the company details. After all, it was better to be armed with all the knowledge they needed before arriving on the doorstep.

  "The managing director of World of Homes is Abner Gore, and it seems the company has been in trouble previously," she said. "It's a fairly new company, I see.” With her laptop balanced on her knees, hoping she didn’t get carsick, she continued with the vital research to ensure they were prepared when they came face to face with Abner.

  Owen craned over to take a look at the director himself, smiling out from the social media page.

  “I’m taking a quick look now at the Chestnut Hill police department's compliance records. They have had a few complaints against them already, and were fined for a few non-compliance issues. There might just be something important to find here. Now I’m on the company website. Let’s see what they say about themselves."

  She read that the company had been set up by Abner Gore and his brother, Adam, three years ago, with a focus on building affordable, bulk homes in the neighborhood. They had a sideline in selling building materials and tools, and they had come to the attention of the local police on several occasions for violating safety procedures on their building sites, inadequate signage on display, water leaks, and going ahead with certain building procedures without a permit.

  May felt more excited now, as she waited for the turnoff they needed.

  If Faye had tried to find out about a bigger irregularity, and if she had tried to stop it or expose it, that might have gotten her killed.

  It was one of the strongest leads they had right now, and May wanted to pursue it as far as they could.

  World of Homes occupied a big, sprawling office block near the center of town. May noted that while they had done a great job of paving and blacktopping their premises, the same attention had not been given to planting trees, flowers, or any kind of greenery. She thought that might give a possible glimpse into the mindset of the owners.

  They parked outside, under the shelter of a steel canopy, and May and Owen headed in.

  The offices were spacious and pristine, with photos of the company's recent developments displayed on the walls, together with posters of homes for sale. The prices of the homes were very affordable, May saw, but she personally thought it was unfair to undercut the opposition when they were saving money by taking shortcuts in their building procedures. Everyone needed to keep safety standards up, didn't they? And how about planting a few trees, too?

  The receptionist was a young blonde woman with a capable attitude, who was answering phone calls, typing on a computer, and also managing to scroll through her personal social media on her phone, May saw.

  "Good morning," she said, to May and Owen, quickly shoving her smart phone out of sight. "Can I help you?"

  "Yes," May said. She showed the woman her badge. "I'd like to speak to the managing director, Mr. Abner Gore. It's in connection with a recent, serious crime."

  "Mr. Gore's on site at the moment, I'm afraid," she said with a plastic smile.

  "Which site?" May asked.

  "I'm not sure," the receptionist said. "We have a few active building sites at the moment, and he might be at any one of them. His phone's not always on, I'm afraid."

  Clearly, this was now standard procedure to ensure that law enforcement didn't show up at the right place and time to enforce their troublesome rules.

  May was fully prepared to run the gamut of every possible delaying and obstructing tactic, but at that moment, there were footsteps heading down the stairs, and they both glanced around. A slim, dark-haired man in a business suit was heading purposefully toward the parking lot.

  "Wait a minute," Owen said. "Isn't that Abner Gore? I recognize him from the photos."

  The receptionist blushed. "That's Adam Gore, his older brother. They're very similar. I'm sorry, I didn't realize he was still here."

  Owen marched purposefully over to the door. Having pinpointed one member of the Gore family, he wasn't going to let him go in a hurry.

  "Mr. Gore!" he called. "We need to speak to you. Police business."

  The man looked around, seemingly not happy to see the police there at all. But since he'd now been called out, he walked reluctantly over, a frown on his dark face.

  "What's this about?" he asked.

  "It's about an ex-employee of yours, Faye Miller."

  "Faye?" His frown deepened. "She left our company about two months ago. Why are you asking?"

  "She was found murdered this morning," May said, and watched him pale.

  "Faye? Are you serious? She never harmed anyone. She was a lovely person and an asset to our firm," he said smoothly.

  Given the doings of the firm, May didn't exactly think that was a great character reference.