Page 14 of Forever Dead

Matt nodded. “Already on it.”

Connor turned toward Arnold. “Talk me through the call.”

“Cheryl’s working on it now,” Arnold said. “It came through the county line, not directly to us. Caller wouldn’t give a name. Said, ‘You need to send somebody to Eleanor Marsh’s house,’ then disconnected.”

“Exact wording?” Connor asked.

“That’s what dispatch wrote down. Cheryl’s getting the audio and trying to trace the originating number.”

“Landline or cell?”

“Don’t know yet,” Arnold said.

“Did the caller say anything else about her being hurt?”

“No. Cheryl asked dispatch the same thing. There was nothing else before the caller hung up.”

It bothered Connor. Eleanor lived well off the road. Somebody passing by would not have seen her through the house, particularly with the curtains drawn after dark. Whoever made the call either knew what had happened or had a reason to come onto the property that they had chosen not to mention. Either way, the call came in the morning. If it was the killer, they waited before telling anyone.

Another deputy appeared at the kitchen door. “Sheriff?”

Connor turned. “What’ve you got?”

“Found the phone line,” the deputy said. “It was cut down the hill, maybe sixty yards from the house. Clean through. Cable’s hanging beside the pole.”

Arnold muttered something under his breath. Connor stared at the broken back door for a moment, then at Eleanor beneath the wreckage of her chair.

“So, this was premeditated,” Connor said.

Blethan folded his arms. “Looks that way.”

“Photograph the cut before anybody touches it,” Connor told the deputy. “Get somebody to check the ground around the pole, too. Tire impressions, boot marks, anything.”

“Already called it in,” the deputy said.

Matt lifted his camera again. “We’ve got tire tracks in the drive. At least one vehicle came up after the last rain. Maybe more, but there’s a decent set near the second bend.”

“Could be hers?” Connor asked.

“No car here,” Matt said.

“Her car’s in the barn,” Arnold said. “I checked. It doesn’t look like it’s been driven for a while.”

Matt continued, “Could be visitor, delivery, killer. I’m not calling it yet.”

“Footprints?” Connor asked.

“Nothing useful so far. Gravel’s too disturbed near the house. Ground under the trees is leaf cover. We’re still working outward.”

Connor moved to the kitchen window. Across the field, beyond a low fence and a strip of pasture, stood another farmhouse. Smoke rose from a metal chimney at the rear. A tractor sat beside a long shed.

He pointed through the glass. “Anybody been over there?”

Arnold shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Who lives there again?” Connor asked.

“Deacon Blair.”