Page 36 of Fallen Creed

Disappointed, again.

“Hey, Pakula.”

“O’Dell. Lucy told me you just left. Are you out in the middle of this?”

“Not yet.” The morgue and the hallway that took her to the parking lot didn’t have any windows.

“We found three more bags, but the snow is making it impossible to see anything, let alone walk another grid. I’m sending everyone home for the day.”

She pushed out the EXIT. A blast of cold air hit her in the face. She felt like she’d stepped into a snow globe.

“How much more of this are they predicting?” she asked, hanging back under a covered portico.

She could barely see the vehicles in the lot through the swirling white.

“Could be through the night.”

He didn’t sound concerned, only frustrated that they would postpone his original search plans.

“Did Lucy tell you about Kristin Darrow?” she asked him.

“She did. Said you’re headed over to Menard’s. You know it’s still a long shot that these pieces are her.”

“I know.” Then Maggie realized she probably should have cleared it with Pakula. This was his investigation. “Is that okay with you?” she asked. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d overstepped her boundaries with local law enforcement, but she liked and respected Pakula.

“Right now, I’m treating this as part of our investigation. So not a problem. Want me to meet you over there?”

That was Pakula. Always smoothing things over. He was good at it. Sincere. Genuine. She knew that from past experience. Otherwise, she might have thought he was just a control freak.

“I can handle it. Unless you think I’m too much of an outsider.”

He laughed. “O’Dell, in case you haven’t noticed by now, you and me, we’re both outsiders. Sometimes it’s not a bad thing.”

It was the first time she’d heard Pakula call himself an outsider. There was a reason the man had garnered the position he was in. Pakula had a swagger that made him seem invincible, but at the same time, he had a way of putting everyone around him at ease. He could make you believe he was just one of the guys, one of the working stiffs, no matter who you were. A county sheriff, a lab tech, a waitress at a diner. An outsider? Hardly.

“You check the hardware store,” he told her. “I’ll see what the local PD has on Darrow. How long has she been missing?”

“Last Thursday. I’m surprised Spencer didn’t mention her when we found the first remains yesterday.”

“She may have not been reported missing.” Pakula suggested. “You think there’s a connection between her and the Spencers’ house guest?”

“They may have worked at the same store. Don’t you think there could be a connection?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “My gut keeps telling me Freddie Mason might know what’s going on.”

“Maybe we should ask him.”

“Not we, O’Dell. The last time you and I interrogated a human trafficker together, he took you and Ryder on a scavenger hunt. Let me know what you find out at the hardware store.”

“Will do.”

She slipped the phone back into her pocket and searched for her rental. She finally recognized it under several inches of snow, despite being parked next to a huge tree. Fallen leaves plastered the windshield. Clumps of snow weighted the branches. She didn’t remember them being so dangerously low over the hood and roof. She slid inside, started the engine, and immediately moved out from underneath.

The SUV’s tires dug into the snow without a problem, and Maggie was grateful she’d snagged one of the last 4-wheel drives. She drove to the opposite side of the lot and put it in park, blasting warm air. She needed to call Ryder.

After only a couple rings, it sent her to his voice mailbox.

“It’s Maggie. I’ve been in a basement morgue with Lucy all morning and just came out into the snow. This is crazy! Let me know how you’re doing? Maybe we could do an early dinner?”