D E A D

A N D

G O N E

(A Kelsey Hawk Mystery—Book 9)

K a t e   B o l d

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eleven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting);  the LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising nine books (and counting); the NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the NINA VEIL FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); OF the BARREN PINES PSYCHOLIGICAL SUSPENSE series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); and of the MAGGIE FLIGHT SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting).

THE KILLING GAME (an Alexa Chase Suspense Thriller—Book #1), LET ME GO (an Ashley Hope Suspense Thriller—Book #1), and NOT ME (a Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book #1) are available as free downloads on Amazon!

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2025 by Kate Bold. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Aydin Hassan, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Jacob Lawson was tired, but he didn't yawn. Years of being up at the same time each morning had conditioned his body to not do anything about the tiredness. It also did little in response to the muscle aches that had embedded themselves in his body for years and the dull throb in his head that always came when the weather was about to change.

It was the life of a farmer, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Streaks of pink and red streaked the far horizon as the sun rose later than he did, but there was enough light to see a few yards in front of him. Jacob stepped down from the porch at the rear of his home and walked toward the cornfield.

Deep in his heart, he hoped that everything had changed overnight, but his head told him that would not be the case. It was dark, and he could not see very far ahead, but he could have walked the route with his eyes closed—he had done it so many times. Jacob reached the cornfield and held out his hand. He touched the stalk of corn, still cold from the chill in the night air. Soon, the sunlight would warm the stalks and ears, and they would begin to grow again.

Jacob held his hand against the stalk of corn and dreamed of what could be. Last year had brought a poor harvest, and they couldn’t bear to have the same thing happen again. He would do everything in his power to ensure that it did not.

The farmer looked up to the skies. There was not much he could do. He had tested the soil, planted the corn, and added water when the rains did not come frequently enough. The rest was up to nature.

There was a crack in the midst of the cornfield. Jacob looked back down. Decades of farming had tuned his ears to the sounds of the fields. Something was out there. Jacob looked left and right before looking ahead again and saw a shadow he had not noticed before. The silhouette of a figure stood twenty yards before him.

"Hello?" Jacob asked, his tone tinted with concern.

It could have been one of the farm hands turned up early to work the fields, but they had never arrived so early, and while they cared about the harvest, it was not their burden to bear.

The figure did not respond, nor did it move.

"Hello?" Jacob tried again.

Once more, the figure responded without movement. Jacob waved an arm to signal he was there, and he pointed an ear toward the figure in an attempt to hear who was there, but the field was silent, save for the wind, which blew through the ears of corn.

There was nothing to be afraid of in the cornfields, but Jacob felt unsettled.

What are you doing out here? We have nothing of worth you can steal.

"If you need food or shelter, we can provide that for you," Jacob called, quieting his voice for reasons he did not know. "If you're passing through, an honest day’s work will get you that."

Nothing from the figure up ahead.

Jacob wished he had his shotgun with him in the field. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and ventured forward.

"You alright? Are you injured?" Jacob asked, hoping for anything in reply.

Still nothing.

Jacob was a couple of yards away when he let his shoulders drop and let out a chuckle. He reached the figure, placed a hand on its chest, and let out a long laugh. The situation was not humorous enough to warrant the laugh; it was the tension in his body flowing out.

He patted the straw-filled clothing of the scarecrow. It was its position that threw him off. Usually, they were elevated a couple of feet, but the top of the wooden cross had broken in a couple of places where the wood had become wet, and the scarecrow had slipped down to look like it was standing on the ground.

Will I be scared by every scarecrow in the field? I should run back to the house right now!

Jacob laughed again.

Another crack from his right put an end to the laugh. Jacob spun around to see nothing. He listened intently, trying to figure out if his mind was playing tricks after being so disturbed by the fallen scarecrow. There was definitely a noise, but he could not discern whether it was made by human, animal, or something else.

He looked through the stalks for a minute, waiting for further signs of life, but there were none. Finally, he shook his head—the place where all of the horror and mystery was—and continued on his way.

The sun was coming up, and the air felt fresher with it. Jacob made sure to step heavily to warn anyone of his presence and to drown out the noises he might hear. He knew there was no danger in the cornfield and only had to convince his brain of it.

He reached out on both sides and let his hands flap against the stalks. There were bigger problems than someone running around in his field, and—

Jacob gasped and stopped dead as he turned down a row.

He stared wide eyed at the man staring back at him. Both of them were rooted to the spot. Jacob was rooted because he could not believe what was before him, and the other man was rooted because he was very, very dead.

CHAPTER ONE

"Hey, good morning," Kelsey said to Erica as Erica emerged from her bedroom.

"Yeah, good morning," Erica said as she stumbled toward the bathroom.

Kelsey went to the coffee maker and switched it on. She turned the dial to start the toaster oven warming the sausage patties and eggs, and squirted ketchup on the cut muffins on the countertop. She looked toward the bathroom—it felt like a ticking time bomb in the apartment.

She had not told her sister, and she would not unless it were absolutely necessary. Before returning from her last case, she had received a message from the people who had kidnapped Erica when she was a child. Kelsey had thought her dead but found her again and rescued her twenty years later.

Kelsey had regained her sister, but she had also gained a ticking time bomb. The people who had contacted Kelsey had informed her they expected a favor in return for the trouble she had caused by taking her sister back.

She is not your property! She does not belong to you. I did not steal her back; I freed her.

The bathroom door clicked, and Kelsey stared down at a muffin half-drenched in ketchup. She quickly grabbed a knife to scrape as much off as she could into the sink.

"Are you okay?" Erica asked.

"What?" Kelsey replied, looking down into the red in the sink, which looked like blood as the water washed it away.

"You look… worried. I mean, you always look worried, but you look more worried than normal."

"No, it’s nothing," Kelsey replied. "Something happened with the ketchup bottle."

Kelsey lifted her hands, and they looked like they were covered in blood. She stared at them for a few seconds before she rinsed them under the running water and quickly dried them.

Will I have blood on my hands?

"Go and sit at the table," Kelsey ordered. "Breakfast is almost ready." She glanced at the clock. "Although, maybe we should call it brunch with how close to eleven it is."

"I slept really, really well," Erica said as she stretched. "That bed is so comfortable."

"Did it get more comfortable?" Kelsey asked, forcing a smile.

"No, I think I did," Erica replied.

Kelsey held a smile as she poured coffee into two mugs and took them to the kitchen table. Erica was back to her usual self. When Kelsey had been away near Theodore Roosevelt National Park to investigate a string of murders, Erica had reported seeing people. She often reported seeing people, all while Kelsey was not around.

As soon as Kelsey was around again, the psychosis went away. Yet, there was something so real and believable in Erica’s retelling of who and what she saw: figures dressed in black, usually somewhere outside her window. At one point, when Kelsey was gone, she thought the apartment was being invaded, and Sheriff Anderson had to visit with as many local law enforcement officers as possible to break down the door. They found Erica hiding in a cupboard with no one else in the apartment.

Kelsey glanced at the door. Although the frame had been fixed, it still needed to be repainted.

"Drink up," Kelsey said as she passed some coffee to Erica. She went back to the kitchen counter to finish making breakfast, saving the bloodied muffin half for her breakfast sandwich.

Her head told her that Erica was imagining seeing people—that she was afraid they would come back and take her again. Her heart told her that what Erica saw and felt was very real. The message from them told her that there was more to the saga.

Kelsey finished making the breakfast sandwiches and took them to the kitchen table. She finally sat down with her sister.

"I’ve been thinking," Kelsey said.

"That never ends well," Erica said before biting into the breakfast sandwich.

Kelsey smiled and shook her head. "All I want is for things to get back to normal for you, and for the most part, they have. I wonder if it is time to take the next step."

"What’s the next step?" Erica asked, stopping mid-bite.

"Well, my pay is enough to cover us both, and you have the money from the government that will come in for the rest of your life, so we don't need any more income, but what if you got a job?"

"You hate having me around that much?" Erica asked.

"Hey, don't even say that!" Kelsey replied. "I know you're joking, but still. I love having you around, and I want you in my life and apartment forever. I can't ever let you go again, and I'll be here to watch over you for as long as it takes. I'll watch you until my dying breath."

"Oh, so dramatic," Erica replied.

"It runs in the family," Kelsey said. "No, I thought it might be good for you to get out and be around people."

"I see you and Sheriff Anderson and John, of course." Erica raised her eyebrows.

"All very good people, mainly me, obviously, but not really a subset of what the world has to offer," Kelsey said. "I don't know. I thought it might do some good to take that next step. You’ve been doing really well lately."

Except for the small period when I was away.

"Not immediately," Kelsey said. "There’s a lot of logistics, and we need to make sure you're ready, but something to consider for the future."

"Yeah, maybe," Erica said.

Kelsey nodded and finally tucked into her breakfast sandwich. She followed it up with a big swig of coffee. It was her second coffee of the day, but her first with her sister.

"Alright," Kelsey said as she wiped her lips with her napkin. I’m going for a run. Do you want to join me?"

"Maybe next time," Erica said.

Kelsey smiled. "Wow, you really have that stock answer locked and loaded each time."

"You never know," Erica said. "There might be a time that I surprise you."

"You surprise me every day." Kelsey got up and then kissed her sister on the head. "After what you went through, to be living your life like this shows a strength that not many possess."

"I love you, too," Erica said as Kelsey hugged her from behind.

Kelsey kissed her sister on the head again and went to get changed. She said goodbye to Erica once she was in her running gear and headed out the door. As she decided the stairs quickly, she ran the message through her mind again. She had memorized it.

Did you really think we would forget about everything? When we took your sister, we didn't kill you. That means you owe us one. We will be asking for a favor very soon, and if you want your sister to remain in your company, we suggest you do exactly as we say.

Kelsey had still not told John or the sheriff. She didn't need them worrying about something they could do nothing about. She had contacted Special Agent Lucas Garcia back at Quantico, but he had been unable to trace where the call and message had come from.

Kelsey pushed open the door and headed outside. She put her headphones in, switched on her music, and ran. She ran from the problems that swirled around in her mind—they were impossible to outrun.

She had gone through her options with the message after coming to the conclusion that she believed it to be a credible threat. Her first thought was to find the people who had sent it and make them sorry for ever contacting her. That was easier said than done. There was no way to trace the sender, and the organization was so large that she was unable to take it down. It was a hydra. She could find the person who had sent it and deal with them, but someone else would take their place.

Kelsey waved to a couple of townsfolk as she passed them. The other option was to ignore the message. She knew she could not do that. The threat felt real, and if she did not do as they asked, then it put her sister at risk.

That left the third option. To do the favor the asked for and hope that they never contacted her again. There was also the problem of what the favor was. She knew it would not be a small favor, and it was likely it would go against her moral compass.

How much am I willing to do to keep my sister safe?

Kelsey knew the answer to that question was: anything. Still, there was a limit to anything. She wished she could lean on John while wrestling with this, but she couldn’t tell anyone. She needed to find out what they wanted first.

It felt wrong to keep it from him when they were on the cusp of something new and amazing, and she had to protect him, too. He would become consumed with finding who had sent the message and going after them, which would only put him in danger. He could handle himself in a small town in North Dakota, and Kelsey was sure he would do just fine in the city, but these people were a different matter entirely.

She was not even sure she could deal with them.

Kelsey smiled and waved to a couple across the street and almost tripped when she saw the man staring at her from a black sedan. The window was rolled down, and he was looking directly at her, his gaze on her as she stumbled forward and regained her balance.

Kelsey stopped, but the man in the back car did not stop staring. He was bald with no facial hair, and his eyes were hooded and partially closed. He sat in the vehicle, staring straight at her.

Kelsey asked toward the car on the other side of the street. As soon as she did, the window rolled up, and the car pulled away from the curb. She walked quicker, but the car was much too fast. She stood on the road and watched it disappear.

There was a ringing in her ears. Kelsey knew it was them. They were the ones who had been watching Erica. They were the ones who sent the message. She kicked herself for not running after the vehicle and getting the license plate. Yet, she somehow knew it would not lead anywhere.

A horn disturbed her thoughts. It was a small-town North Dakotan horn toot. The horn barely leaned on, so it made the slightest sound. The driver was not angry; he only wanted Kelsey to know she was blocking traffic. She turned to the car and waved her hands in apology, quickly getting off the road.

She looked up and down the street, wondering if this was how Erica had felt. She began to doubt that she had seen a car at all. The music still played in her earphones, and she took off running again, looking behind from time to time.

It was not until she was fifteen minutes into her run that she sensed someone was following her. She didn't want to spook them by looking behind. She would either stop them this time or get a plate to run. Kelsey headed for the stores at the end of the street she ran on. She caught sight of the same black car reflected in the store window before she turned the corner.

Let’s take you somewhere we can talk.

Kelsey ran down the street and planned a route toward the industrial area where she could pull her gun and find out who was in the car.

Her phone rang, and the music stopped, but she ignored it. Then it rang again. As she turned the corner to draw the car away from Winchburgh town center, her phone rang a third time. She pressed the button on the earphone to answer it.

"Finally," John said. "Boy, are you hard to get a hold of."

"I’m dealing with something right now," Kelsey replied.

"Well, get ready to deal with something else," John said. "They’ve just found a second body."

Kelsey stopped running. She sighed. "Alright, send me the address, and I'll meet you there as soon as possible."

She pressed the button on the headphones to end the call. Kelsey turned around. She was alone on the long street. No black car, no person following her, nothing.

CHAPTER TWO

Fields stretched as far as the eyes could see as Kelsey drove. She was an hour from home, and how much the landscape changed was amazing. She was used to her surroundings back in Winchburgh, a town on a small river with surrounding greenery.

Green was all around as she drove, but it was a different greenery, especially after investigating her last case in the badlands. She often thought of her cases as life and death, but the landscapes of the previous and current cases could be described the same way.

Gone were the badlands with their red and brown striped earth formations and desolate valleys devoid of much life other than wandering scavengers, and here were lush green fields spurting with new growth, likely teeming with critters. The farmlands brought life and nourishment. The landscape was mostly flat, with a big, bright, blue sky.

Kelsey pulled her car to a stop at the front of the farmhouse. She got out and walked around to the side of the building to find John and a few other people, some of whom she recognized. She breathed in, smelling the soil and dirt—it was a hearty aroma, and even though she didn’t have much experience with farming, she knew the lands around were fertile.

The farm she had arrived at dealt primarily in corn, from what she had seen from the main road leading to the farm and the secondary road through it. Tall stalks of corn that swayed in the wind. There was something soothing and calming about rows and rows of vegetables or grains, order bought to the varied landscape.

"Kelsey," John said with a smile.

He left the small group and headed for her. For a moment, she thought he might hug her, and while she wanted his embrace, she was terrified that he might actually do it in front of everyone.

"Hey," Kelsey said, glad that John stopped before her.

He turned and gestured with his head to follow. "Special Agent Hawk, this is Detective Sarah Brennan," John introduced.

The detective left the small group and held out her hand for Kelsey to shake.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Detective Brennan said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"A pleasure to meet you, too," Kelsey said, shaking her hand. "You believe this is connected to the first murder?"

"Sadly, yes," the detective said. I want your opinion on it, but they are almost identical. We found Olivia Reeves bound to a cross in the middle of a farm field five days ago. At the time, we hoped it was a one-off—a gruesome tragedy. This morning, we found another victim. The scene is almost identical. There’s no way this isn’t the same killer."

"Do we know who this victim is?" Kelsey asked.

"Michael Torres," Detective Brennan replied. "He works here at the farm. Worked. Jacob Lawson, the farmer, found his body early this morning when out walking through the field. We spoke to him briefly, but I assume you'll want to talk with him, too."

Kelsey nodded. She looked around. She saw four men talking at the rear of the building. There was a lot of head-shaking and muted discussion between them. Three of them naturally gravitated around the other, and Kelsey fingered him for Jacob Lawson, the farmer. The others must work on the farm with him.

"Let’s see the body first," Kelsey said. "I’m assuming it hasn’t been moved."

"No, not yet," the detective confirmed. "Forensics are there, but we wanted you to see it all first before they take the body elsewhere."

Detective Brennan walked toward the cornfield, and Kelsey and John followed. The detective was attractive and slightly younger than Kelsey. Kelsey was so used to working with detectives who felt like they were stepping on their toes that it was nice to work with someone agreeable. Still, Kelsey could see the determination below the surface. Sarah was a detective, but she wanted more. That agreeability could become something else if Sarah couldn’t get what she wanted.

Kelsey heard the noises of people moving around the crime scene before they got there, and the stalks were placed so far apart in rows that it was easy to see the hive of activity once they turned down the right row.

They could not see the body at first, but once they got closer, the forensic team moved aside for Kelsey and John to take a closer look.

Michael Torres stood with his arms spread and his eyes open. He stared at them from beyond the grave, willing them to find who did this. The eyes were glassy and had rolled back a little. His face was untouched, but there was blood on his clothes.

Kelsey sighed and walked around the body. His arms, neck, waist, and ankles were tied to the roughly-made wooden crucifix.

"Almost identical to the last one," Kelsey noted. "The cross looks the same. It’s built well, but it’s not for show. Whoever made it made it for functionality. And it’s not a cross that was placed in a hole for a previous scarecrow. Whoever made the cross and attached the body and then placed it in the field."

"It would take some strength," John noted. "They would have to attach the body and dig the hole first before lifting up the cross and dropping it in. I can imagine them planting the cross first and then attaching the body."

"Then they filled the hole back in," Kelsey said. "It would have taken some time to do the work. They came at night, either with the body or they met Michael Torres down here."

"What is it with the scarecrow motif?" Detective Brennan asked. "Is this a warning to the farmers?"

"I don't know," Kelsey admitted. "All I know is that if someone is willing to go to this much trouble to display two bodies, then it means something, even if it only means something to them. It could be a scarecrow, or it could be a crucifixion."

"Which would we rather it be?" John asked.

"It doesn’t matter as long as we catch them quickly," Kelsey replied. She addressed the forensic team. "Was anything found at the crime scene?"

"We haven’t found anything yet except for the body," a forensic officer replied. "There are some footprints in the dirt, but they are stamped down. It could be that the killer did that purposely, or it just happened as they worked the crucifix into the hole."

"Get what you can," John said. "Even a partial print will help."

The forensic officer nodded.

"I want to talk to the person who found the body," Kelsey said.

Detective Brennan walked back toward the farmhouse, and Kelsey and John followed.

"Jacob Lawson," the detective said. "He owns the farm."

They followed the detective back to the farmhouse, where Jacob was still conversing with the three workers. No one was quite sure what to do in the circumstances. Detective Brennan went to the men and pulled Jacob aside to speak with Kelsey.

"Mr. Brennan, you found the body," Kelsey said.

"I was out walking this morning when I found him in the field," Jacob replied.

"Do you know him?" John continued.

"Micheal Torres," Jacob replied. "He was a farmhand here. A good man."

"Do you normally go out into the field so early in the morning?" Kelsey asked.

"Sometimes," Jacob admitted. "I’m usually up before anyone else. The curse of being a lifelong farmer, I guess. My wife is usually asleep, and the farmhands don't arrive until sunrise."

"Except for this one," John pointed out.

"Yeah," Jacob said sadly. "I still can't believe he was… I can still see the look in his eyes. Like I failed him."

"Did you fail him?" Kelsey asked.

"He died on my farm," Jacob replied. "I can't help but feel I failed him somehow."

"What were you doing before you went for your walk?" Kelsey asked.

"I had a cup of coffee."

"And before that?" Kelsey pushed.

"I was sleeping," Jacob replied.

"You mentioned your wife," Kelsey said. "Can she confirm that you were in your bed all night?"

"What are you suggesting?" Jacob’s voice rose, and the three farmhands by the house looked over. "You think I killed him? Micheal was a good man and one of my best workers. He has a family, for goodness sake. I relied on him to get the work done, and now, I’m short. I don't say that with anything other than sadness. I liked and respected Michael. I wanted him on my farm for as long as possible, and we are worse off without him here. So, no, I didn't kill him."

"Can your wife confirm you were in the bed with her?" John repeated.

"I don't know," Jacob said through gritted teeth. "She was sleeping, too, but she might have stirred when I got out of bed. You’ll have to ask her. She’s making coffee for everyone right now. That’s what we do around here. We’re like a family."

"We’re not suggesting otherwise, Mr. Lawson," Kelsey said. "The sooner we can rule you out from our investigations, the better."

"I know, I know." Jacob held up his hands. He was frustrated, but from the way he spoke, Kelsey could see that he did care for his farmhand. Still, that didn't mean he couldn’t have killed him. "I thought I heard someone in the field this morning."

"You heard someone?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't know," Jacob admitted. "I thought I heard someone, but I didn't see anyone. Maybe they were still here when I was in the field."

"What did you hear?" John asked.

"A snapping, like someone stood on a dry twig to something," Jacob replied. "It could have been an animal. It might have been in my head; I felt something this morning like something was different." Jacob paused before he added softly, "I guess there was something different."

"How about Michael," John added. "You said you were like a family here. Did you know him well? Anyone who might want to harm him?"

"No," Jacob said immediately. "I don't know everything about his personal life, but no one would ever want to hurt him. He was a good guy, and he made everyone around him feel great. The workers all loved him, and we loved having him around. I can only assume that was the same for everyone who crossed his path."

"Someone wanted him dead," Kelsey said. "Take some time to do what you need to do,  but we will need to speak to you again and to your wife. Don't go leaving the area."

"I won't leave the farm," Jacob said. "As soon as we get the all clear, we must return to work. I wish we could take more time, but there is too much to be done, and I'll have to work extra to cover Michael. He has a wife and kids. I can't leave them in the lurch."

Kelsey looked briefly at John to gauge his reaction. Jacob was saying everything to portray himself as a good family man and employer. She believed it all. He spoke with frankness and enough emotion in his voice for him to be genuine or a very good actor.

"She’s here now," Jacob said, pointing toward the farmhouse. "Can you talk with her now so we can get this out of the way?"

Kelsey nodded. Jacob let her and John over to his wife, who was carrying a tray of mugs. She was followed by a young woman around sixteen years old, who was also carrying a tray of mugs with cream and sugar.

"Special Agent Hawk, this is my wife, Veronica, and my youngest daughter, Heather," Jacob said.

"Do you mind if we speak to you for a second?" Kelsey asked Veronica.

"Of course… um," Veronica replied.

"I can take those," Jacob said. "Bobby, James, and Tyler can help me share them out."

Veronica smiled and passed her husband the tray of mugs.

"This will only take a moment," Kelsey said to Veronica. She led her away from the others. "We only want to confirm your husband’s alibi so we can run him out of any investigation. Before he got up this morning, he was in bed with you. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Veronica replied with what felt like honesty. "I woke when he got up, but I turned over and went back to sleep. I’m not an early riser like Jacob."

"Do you know if he got up at any other point during the night?" Kelsey asked.

"No, he didn’t. I always stir when he does. He’s a deeper sleeper than me. I do remember his snoring woke me at one point, but I got back to sleep pretty quick after."

They might have both been lying and were in it together, but Kelsey was convinced they were both entirely truthful. They were good, honest, kind, and hard-working people.

"Just one more question," Kelsey said. "Do you know anyone who might want to hurt Michael?"

"Hurt him?" Veronica asked. "No. No, not at all."

"Sorry, I…" said a voice from behind.

Kelsey and Veronica turned to find Heather standing close to them.

"I didn't mean to overhear, but there might have been someone who wanted to hurt Mr. Torres," Heather said.

"I don't know who," Heather admitted. "I'm friends with Mr. Torres’ daughter, Miranda. We talked a lot, and she mentioned that her father was fighting with someone. I thought it was maybe a disagreement or something because Mr. Torres never fights with anyone. But after this?" Heather rubbed her eyes. "Maybe there’s someone…" Heather swallowed. "Maybe Miranda or her mother knows who he was fighting with."

"Okay, thank you" Kelsey said. She turned to John. "That’s the place to start. We’ll have a brief chat with the farmhands here, and then we pay Mrs. Torres a visit."

CHAPTER THREE

The three farmhands were gathered, and Kelsey and John interviewed them together.

"We heard rumors about Michael fighting with someone," Kelsey said. "Do you know who that might be?"

"No idea," Bobby Dillon said. "Michael was not a private guy, but if he had beef with someone, he must have hidden it. He wasn’t one to speak ill about anyone, so if he did have a problem, he would have kept it to himself."

"Yeah, that was Michel," Tyler Moss said. "He wanted to lift people up. He always had something positive to say, and even when someone was being a complete idiot, he could see the good in them. The world would be a better place if we were all a bit more like Mikey."

"When was the last time any of you saw him?" John asked.

"Yesterday," they all said at the same time. They all smiled at the synchronicity before losing the smiles again.

"We all worked the farm in the afternoon," James Smith said. "We would have finished up around six."

"Then you all went home?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah," Tyler said. "We maybe hung around and chatted for fifteen minutes or so, but we were all pretty hungry."

"Did anything seem out of the ordinary?" John asked them. "Was Michael acting any different from how he normally does?"

"He was the same old Mikey," Bobby said. "He was excited to get back to his family, but that was standard for most days."

"How about this morning?" Kelsey asked. "The four of you were scheduled to work. Do you ever carpool? Did Michael tell anyone he was coming to the farm early?"

"No," James said. "There was no set time to arrive on the farm. Mr. Lawson expects us here around sunrise, and he doesn’t mind if we are a little after. Mikey was always here right at sunrise. Never early and never late."

"Do you all talk much outside of work?" John asked.

"Yeah, a little," Tyler admitted. "We text if we need cover for a shift or something like that, and we meet maybe once a month in the local pub to switch stories about the farms we work on."

"So, you don't all work exclusively here?" John asked.

"No," Tyler confirmed. "There’s only so much work to go around. The four of us work here, but we work at half a dozen other farms. Mr. Lawson always schedules the four of us together when he can. It’s kinda nice to be held in high regard. It’s either the four of us working the farm with Mr. Lawson or three of us and someone else. There was one time when only two of us could make it. It’s nice all working together. We know each other’s rhythm."

"It makes it easier," James confirmed. "We all know what we are doing and don't get in each other’s way."

"How is Mr. Lawson as a boss?" Kelsey asked.

"He’s great," Bobby replied. "He treats us fairly as long as we put the work in."

"Are there any farmers who don't treat you fairly?" Kelsey probed.

"Some don't treat us as well as Mr. Lawson and his wife," James said. "But no one treats us unfairly. It’s a good community around here. If a farmer steps out of line, everyone knows about it. If we were treated badly, we wouldn’t go back. If we found the work on another farm, of course."

"Is there enough work to go around?" John asked.

"For us folks, yeah," James said. "There are seasonal workers, and some folks come and go, but we’re seasoned farmhands now, and the farmers come to us first. We make a decent living. Times are hard all over, but people stick together."

"Alright," Kelsey said. "I’ll have someone take a formal statement as soon as possible so you boys can get back to work when the area is cleared."

"Thank you, ma’am," they said, with some nods and smiles thrown in.

"Any thoughts?" John asked as they walked away.

"Everyone seems straight in their answers so far," Kelsey said. "It looks like Michael was an all-around good guy, and there was no one who would want to hurt him. If we find out from Michael’s widow who Michael was fighting with, we might find the only person in North Dakota who had a problem with Michael Torres."

***

"How’s Erica doing?" John asked as he drove them to Emma Torres’ house in his black truck.

"She’s been good since I got back," Kelsey said. "She hasn’t seen anyone following or watching her." She didn't tell him she had seen someone following her and was sure it connected to Erica.

"That’s good," John said. "Maybe now, she can get back to living her life."

"I hope so," Kelsey admitted. "I'll be there for her as much as possible, but this job takes me away sometimes, and I don't want her slipping. As long as she stays on her meds and I'm around, she is completely fine."

"We are all here to help in any way we can," John told her.

"I know, and I'm thankful for that. I’m thankful to have you around," Kelsey said.

I have to figure out what these people want and how to make them disappear so Erica and I can move on with our lives.

Kelsey was hesitant to tell anyone about the message she had received in case any investigation into them resulted in them going after Erica. She would find out what they wanted first and then make a decision.

"I’ll always be around," John said.

"I know." Kelsey smiled. "How are things with Samantha."

His ex-wife had recently started dating, and while it gave John some closure, he did not react well when she told him. It wasn’t that he had any hopes of getting back together with her; it just felt like he had failed somehow.

That had lessened now that he and Kesey had gone on a couple of dates and were discovering what the future held for them. At the same time, it was hard to remain professional at work when their feelings were growing deeper and more complex.

"Better," John admitted. "I still don't like how I reacted when she told me about the guy she is dating, but if it had worked out between Samantha and me, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you better."

Kelsey laughed. "Get to know me better? Did you just come here from the forties?"

John laughed with her. For a moment, the laughter in the truck drowned out everything else. If they were laughing together, they could pretend that nothing else mattered. They could forget all of their problems and not have to think about multiple murders, a double homicide, two dead bodies in less than a week.

When they pulled up to Emma Torres’ house, they both stopped laughing and took a breath. Their jobs involved so much death and sadness that they sometimes had to take a step back, but only in private. They couldn’t be seen to be happy in the presence of co-workers or those involved in the investigation until they caught the person responsible.

John parked, and they got out of the vehicle.

"I hate this part," Kelsey said. "Having to break the news to the family."

"You’ve loved in Winchburgh for a while, but you've been in small towns long enough," John said. "You heard how everyone spoke back at the farm. The news will have already spread. Even if she hasn’t been officially notified, Emma Torres will already know."

John knocked on the door, and when Emma Torres opened it, it was obvious she knew. Her eyes were red from crying, and her cheeks and nose pink from wiping away tears.

"I’m sorry," Kelsey said.

Emma Torres nodded but regarded them with suspicion.

Kelsey showed her badge. "Special Agent Hawk. This is Deputy Gallant. We’d like to ask you a few questions. Will you have us in?"

Emma Torres nodded again, her eyes filled with infinite sorrow. She led them into the small house. The rooms were messy, but in a lived-in way. They were not dirty but untidy. The house held multiple people, and there were many possessions, but there was not enough space to store all of them. Cupboards, shelves, and boxes were filled, making it look as if the family were in transition.

"Are you moving?" John asked as they made it through to the living room.

"No," Emma said sadly. "We were organizing our life. One box for donations, one to throw out, one to sell, one to give away, one to store, and on and on. This was our life constantly. I'm always trying to make sense of things, but how do you make sense of this? He was murdered?"

The way she said it made it sound like a statement more of a question. Kelsey was the first to catch up.

"I’m afraid he was, Mrs. Torres. I really am sorry. We came from the farm, and everyone spoke positively of him. He was held in high regard."

"Yet, someone killed him," Emma said angrily. "Why would someone kill him? How did they kill him?"

"We don't know yet," Kelsey admitted.

"You don't know the who or the how?" Emma asked.

Kelsey sighed. "Both. It will take some time."

"Then what do you know?" Emma shouted. She quickly looked toward the ceiling and winced.

Kelsey could only guess that Emma’s daughter was up there, perhaps more family.

"I know you're hurting, Mrs. Torres," Kelsey said. "Can we please sit down and talk with you? I know you don't want to talk with anyone right now, but we must ask you some questions."

"I want to know who killed my husband," Emma demanded.

"We do, too," John said. "You can help us find out who did this."

"I can’t do anything anymore," Emma sobbed. "He’s gone. He’s gone, and I'll never see him again. I don't know what I'm going to do now."

"Jacob Lawson said he would help you," Kelsey said. She studied Emma to see if she had any reaction to the name.

"He’s a good man," Emma said, looking at the floor. "Mr. Lawson was always good to us."

"Do you know of anyone who wasn’t good to Michael?" John asked. "Someone mentioned that Michael might have disagreed with someone. That he might have been fighting with someone. Do you know who that might be?"

"I know exactly who that is," Emma said. "It wasn’t a fight; it was a misunderstanding. That is what Michael told me."

"What did he tell you?" Kelsey asked.

"He came home upset one day last week, and that wasn’t like Michael at all. He was never upset, and he never got frustrated at anyone, but he accused him of being the cause of the crop failure."

"The crop failure?" John asked. "Who accused who?"

"Mr. Holloway," Emma explained. "He blamed Michael for the crop failure on his farm when Michael worked harder than anyone else on that farm. Michael told me it was just a misunderstanding and would sort itself out, but I could see he was upset. I tried to get more out of him, but he wouldn’t take about it more than that. Michael said he didn't want to badmouth one of the farmers; we were lucky to have work. If it was more than a misunderstanding, I want to know. I deserve to know."

"We’ll talk with Mr. Holloway," Kelsey confirmed. "Was there any change in Michael recently? Did he seem different?"

"No, he was always the same," Emma said. "What has this got to do with his murder? I told you the only person who had any disagreement with Michael. Michael came home upset a week ago, and now he is dead. Why are you not going over there right now?"

"We will go over there as soon as we are done here," Kelsey said. "We don't want to miss anything that could potentially help us. He wasn’t different apart from being upset after coming home from the Holloway farm, right?"

"No, he was happy," Emma said. "We were happy. We have three daughters. They don't have a father anymore. Do you understand that?"

John looked at Kelsey; the look was clear: she needs some time.

Kelsey agreed, but there was still a question left to ask.

"When did Michael leave this morning?" Kelsey asked. "He didn't leave at the usual time, did he?"

"He left early," Emma confirmed.

"What time is early?" John asked.

Kelsey could hear the intent behind the question. One of the farmhands had told them that he was always on time.

"Maybe five," Emma murmured. "He usually leaves around five forty-five, but not this morning."

"Do you know why he left so early this morning?" Kelsey asked. "Do you know where he was going or if he was meeting someone?"

"No, I don't know." Emma brought a tissue to her eyes as she started crying again. "I should have told him not to get out of the bed. I asked him why he left so early, and he told me he had work to do. He told me to go back to sleep, and he loved me. That’s the last thing he will ever say to me." Emma burst into more tears.

A young woman appeared in the living room doorway and ran to her mother when she saw her crying. She wrapped her arm around her mother and held her tight.

"We will go," John said. "Mrs. Torres, we will keep you updated on the investigation."

Emma looked down at the floor and cried in her daughter’s arms, but she nodded.

Kelsey and John got up and showed themselves out.

"So, he left early this morning, which means he had a reason to do so," Jon said. "Do you think he went to meet the killer?"

"It’s a pretty good bet that he did," Kelsey said. "Let’s pay Mr. Holloway a visit and see if forensics can give us anything.

CHAPTER FOUR

The Holloway farm looked similar to the Lawson farm. A long dirt road led to the farm, and rows and rows of corn were planted near the main residence and barns, along with other crops dotted around the outskirts of the farm. As John drove them in his truck, they saw workers manning machinery and others harvesting potatoes and carrots.

When they reached the farmhouse, a man was working out front on a tractor. The entire left side of the engine was exposed, and the man was underneath the vehicle. Kelsey and John exited the vehicle and heard the clanking and hammering coming from beneath the tractor. It sounded like whatever was wrong with the farm equipment, the best way to solve it was through brute force.

"Hello!" John shouted as they approached the tractor.

There were a few more bangs before the ‘repair’ stopped. The man underneath the tractor slid out, picking up a rag from the ground before standing up and wiping the grease from his hands.

"What can I do you for?" the man asked.

"We’re looking for Frank Holloway," John said.

"Well, you’ve found him," the man said. "And who might you two be?"

"Deputy Gallant," John said as he fished his identification from his pocket. He jerked a thumb toward Kelsey. "And Special Agent Hawk. "We’d like to ask you a few questions."

Frank Holloway looked Kelsey and John up and down before gesturing with a nod toward the house. "I guess you had better come in then."

They followed him into the house. Frank was a portly man with a large gut, but he moved spryly, as attested to by how he had removed himself from under the tractor. He looked strong, having worked on a farm for years. His hair was greying around the temple, but he didn't look or seem old.

"Marcy!" Frank called as he strode through the house. "We have guests."

They followed Frank through to the kitchen at the back of the house, where a woman around the same age as Frank was pouring hot water into a large teapot. Kelsey presumed that the woman was Marcy and she was Frank’s wife.

"Sit," Frank ordered, pointing at the kitchen table.

Kelsey could see that John was on the same page as she was. Neither liked taking orders from people who had no business issuing them, so they remained standing in the kitchen, walking slowly around and taking in the place.

"Give me that, Marcy," Frank said, taking the tray she had just loaded up. He took the tray to the table and set it down, looking at Kelsey and John with annoyance. "Well, sit down."

"We’d like to ask you a few questions about Michael Torres," Kelsey said.

"Terrible, terrible tragedy," Frank said. "I only just heard about it."

"We can't believe it," Marcy added. She stood behind Frank, writing her hands.

"A good worker," Frank said.

Kelsey finally pulled out one of the chairs and sat at the table, now that she wouldn’t be following an order to do so. John did the same, and neither spoke until Frank drew out a chair and sat down with them. Marcy poured three cups of tea, not asking if anybody wanted any.

"When was the last time you saw Michael Torres?" John asked.

"It must have been the end of last week." Frank sighed. "I really can't believe it."

"Are you on good terms with your workers?" John asked.

"What are you trying to say?" Frank asked. "I’m more than fair with my workers; they will attest to that. Go out there and talk with any of them, and they will tell you what they think of me."

"Does that include Michael Torres?" Kelsey asked.

"Of course," Frank replied.

"So, no disagreements with Michael over the last few weeks?" John asked.

"What is this?" Frank demanded. "You storm in here asking me questions about a man who was just murdered. Are you accusing me of killing him? Is that it?"

"You tell us," John said.

"You tell us." Frank scoffed. "I've a few things I want to tell you."

"What is this all about?" Marcy asked. "My husband is a good man. You can't come in here and accuse him of killing someone."

"Marcy!" Frank warned. "I don't need you defending me when there is nothing to defend."

"Where were you early this morning?" John asked. "Before sunrise?"

"Are you serious?" Frank asked.

"Very," Kelsey replied. "As soon as we have an alibi, we can rule you out of our investigation."

"Frank has had a terrible time sleeping over the past month," Marcy stated. "He spends most of the night down at the kitchen table going over the financial reports since the poor yield last year, and—"

"Marcy, stop!" Frank warned. "I’m perfectly capable of answering the questions. I didn’t leave the house until dawn when the workers arrived, and they can all attest to that."

"And before then?" Kelsey asked.

"I was in bed sleeping," Frank replied.

"You were in bed sleeping," John said. "So, this was one of your better nights when you could sleep?"

"Was that a question?" Frank asked.

"Mrs. Holloway, can you confirm that your husband was in bed with you all night?" John asked.

"Well, I mean, I was sleeping, but I'm sure he was," Marcy replied.

"Do you know what time he left the bed?" Kelsey asked.

"I… I don't know exactly," she admitted. "I didn't wake up when he left the bed."

Frank ground his teeth as he listened to his wife talk.

"So, you don't have a solid alibi for the early hours of this morning?" John asked.

"I do," Frank claimed. "I was in bed with my wife. As she said, she was sleeping. So was I. What do people do when they are in bed together? Set an alarm for every five minutes so they can talk to each other and have an alibi in case someone is murdered on another farm?"

"We were told that you and Michael Torres were in the midst of a dispute," Kelsey said. "Would you care to give your side of that story?"

Frank gritted his teeth together and shook his head. He turned to his wife. "Marcy, what are you still doing here? Can you give me some space?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Marcy said. "I've some socks to darn." She smiled politely at Kelsey and John. "If you'll excuse me."

Kelsey and John waited in silence until Marcy left, then looked at Frank. Frank took his time adding five sugar cubes to his cup of tea, tasting the drink before setting the cup back on the table.

"Was it Jacob? Is he trying to frame me? Is that it?" Frank asked.

"Why don't you tell us your side of the story? We will decide who is framing who," Kelsey suggested.

"Everyone knows it was all his fault," Frank said. "Don't trust a word he says."

"He hasn’t said anything to us," John told Frank. "So, just tell us what he did, and we can follow up on it."

"It wasn’t just our farm and his farm. Many farms in the area had bad crops this year, and we are all praying that they don’t happen again this year. If it does, then we’ll all be ruined."

"What did Jacob Lawson do?" John pushed. "What was his fault?"

Frank dropped another sugar cube in his tea. "He was the one who wanted to start using the new pesticide. I told everyone they were a bad idea, but not everyone would listen, would they? Then, the crops started failing because of these new diseases that weren’t around before they started using the new pesticides. And whose crops do you think start failing first? I’ll give you one guess."

"Alright, let me get this straight," John said. "There was some discussion some time back about using pesticides, and some farms sided with Jacob Lawson and some sided with you, and then some new diseases entered the crops that killed many of them off. Is that about right?"

"Yeah, you nailed it," Frank said.

"But the pesticides didn't protect or cause the diseases, did they?" Kelsey asked.

"Of course they did," Frank said. "He and some of his buddies start using the pesticides, and the next we know, crops are failing."

"But not only the farms that were using the pesticides or not using them," Kelsey said, trying to understand the train of thought.

"It was indiscriminate," Frank said. "It hit people randomly. Well, not randomly. It’s all about cross-contamination, isn’t it?"

"I don't know; you tell us," John said.

"Alright, yeah, I did argue with Michael Torres, but he’s not the one at fault. This is all Jacob’s fault, and he knows it."

"So, what was the argument with Michael about?" Kelsey asked.

"He arrived at my farm with soil all over his boots," Frank said, his eyes wide as he sought understanding. "I could tell by the color that it was from the Lawson farm. That’s when it finally clicked. That’s what was spreading it. It wasn’t random, was it? It was the workers who were working on the farms with the pesticides that were spreading it to the other farms. I confronted Michael, and he got angry at me for suggesting it. He told me the pesticides were safe, but that’s what Jacob told him, right? He doesn’t want to be blamed for all of the crops failing, but he is to blame. He and everyone else who used those damned pesticides."

"But you don't know that the pesticides are to blame, do you?" John asked. "Have tests been done, or is this pure speculation on your part?"

"I know what I know," Frank claimed. "We all know it. She was about to prove it, and that’s why she died. That’s probably why Michael died, too. Don't you see what’s right in front of your eyes? Jacob is the one you want."

"Wait," Kelsey said. "You’re saying that’s why she died. Are you talking about Olivia Reeves?"

"Yeah, I am," Frank said. "I told that detective all about it when she was found murdered. I saw how she looked at me, but it all makes sense now. He killed her to stop her from investigating it, and he killed Michael to shut him up, too."

"Slow down," Kelsey said. "Olivia Reeves was here to test for a link between the pesticides and the diseases last year?"

Olivia Reeves had been found dead on a local farm five days ago, and the death was almost identical to Michael Torres’ death. She had been killed and then attached to a crucifix in a field. It was a tragic murder until Michael Torres had been found. Now, they had a serial killer on their hands.

"Yeah, she was," Frank said. "A bunch of us got together and employed her to find the link between the two so we would prove it once and for all. She was supposed to do it secretly so no one would catch wind of it, but someone obviously did. They found out why she was here and tried to silence her."

"You're telling us that you believe Jacob Lawson killed Olivia and Michael?" John asked.

"I know he did," Frank said. "Go and ask him about Olivia and see how he reacts. He won't take responsibility for what everyone knows he did, but he will have to now. Don't trust anything his wife says, either. She filed for divorce last year, and now, she suddenly backs him on everything and is the loyal, doting wife. Have you spoken to him at all yet? They seem a little too perfect if you ask me. There’s something very wrong on the Lawson farm."

Kelsey sighed. She didn't like Frank Holloway, but they needed to follow up on this.

"Mr. Holloway, please don't leave the area until we can talk to you again," Kelsey said. I'd appreciate any correspondence that supports your story about Olivia Reeves being here to test the soil."

"Anything you need," Frank said. "Anything to finally expose Jacob Lawson for the man he really is."

CHAPTER FIVE

Kelsey was frustrated as they drove back onto the Lawson farm. They were only hours into the investigation, and it already felt like there was a split. The two parties were willing to blame each other. Jacob Lawson had not mentioned any ill will between him and Frank Holloway, but there was no need to mention it when they interviewed him.

Is that enough to kill someone? Are these two farmers at war over a poor harvest? Is the poor harvest the connection?

John parked his truck, and they both got out. There were fewer law enforcement at the Lawson farm now that the body had been taken away. Still, officers were scouring the fields for any trace of the person who had killed Michael Torres.

When Kelsey and John arrived, Jacob Lawson looked frustrated. He strode over to them when they got out of the truck.

"How long is this going to go on?" Jacob demanded. He wasn’t as calm or polite as when they had spoken to him that morning. "We need to get back to work, and now they tell me we might not get to do that until tomorrow. What am I supposed to do with them?" Jacob gestured to the three farmhands who were milling about by the farmhouse.

"I don't know what to tell you," Kelsey said. "Someone was murdered on your farm. I can assure you we are working as quickly as possible, but these things take time."

"They won't even let me help," Jacob moaned. "I've three good men and myself, and they won't let us help search the fields. We know this place better than anyone."

"We can't let you join the search," John said.

"Because you think I might have done it and want to retrieve the evidence," Jacob commented.

"You have an alibi, Mr. Lawson," Kelsey said. "You've nothing to worry about. What we can't have happen is something to be missed or discounted as garbage or not important because you and your men don't know what they are looking for. I know this is frustrating, but it will be done as soon as it is done."

"So, is there any progress?" Jacob asked, placing his fists on his hips.

Kelsey might have asked to go somewhere to talk privately, but they were far enough from everyone, and the fresh air was nice. Still, the farmhands eyed them, obviously worried they would not be paid for the day.

"Does the name Olivia Reeves mean anything to you?" Kelsey asked.

"She was the woman who was killed, wasn’t she?" Jacob replied. "What the heck is going on here?"

"Do you know why she was in town?" Kelsey continued.

"No. Should I?" Jacob asked.

Kelsey gave it a moment before she would follow up, but Jacob cut in again.

"I’m sorry," Jacob said. "If I'm being rude or obstinate, you must excuse me. Michael was a good man, and we are all grieving over this, and he died on my farm, and I have men needing to work, and I still can't get my head around it all."

"And the crop failure from last year," John said.

"Yeah," Jacob sighed. "It hit us all hard."

"So, you don't know why Olivia Reeves was in town?" Kelsey asked.

"No, I don’t," Jacob replied politely. "But it’s connected to this,"—he gestured toward the cornfield—"isn’t it?"

"We believe so," Kelsey said. "She was here to test the soil."

"Test the soil?" Jacob asked.

Kelsey gave him a second to see if there was more to tell. When his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened, she could see there was.

"Wait, is this because of Frank Holloway?" Jacob asked.

"What do you mean?" Kelsey asked.

"Did he ask her to come and test the soil?" Jacob asked.

"Why would he do that?" John asked, feigning ignorance.

"Alright, here’s the deal," Jacob said. "We started using new pesticides and fertilizer a couple of years ago. We moved our business to a local company, and the prices were reasonable and the results even better. I spread the word, and a few more farmers started buying from the same company. Last year, about sixty percent of us were hit. Some diseases, drought, bad luck, you name it. Now, I test my soil regularly. I test it at the start of the growing season and the end of the harvest. We had a lot of dry weeks over the growing season, and there was some early frost and root rot, but the new chemicals caused none of that. I even had someone come out from a third-party company to test the soil, but that wasn’t enough for Jacob. He blamed me for everything. He called that woman in to try and prove I was to blame, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," John replied.

"I’ve got nothing to hide," Jacob said. "I can give you a copy of the report I got. Listen, the crop failure wasn’t any one thing. There was some overlap, but it was just a bad year, bad luck. We move on and recover this year. If this year is bad, then that’s when we start to worry."

"Mr. Lawson, your wife filed for divorce last year," John said.

Jacob pursed his lips and tilted his head, glaring at John. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I never said it did," John noted.

"He told you about that, didn't he?" Jacob asked. "It seems like you had a nice long chat with Frank. My personal life is none of your business, but if you want to dig into that, go ahead. Yes, we were almost divorced. The crops had failed, and the farm wasn’t doing well. There was a split with the farmers, and maybe I got a little too angry with it all. I took that out on Veronica. It wasn’t anything other than shouting and arguing, but it was my fault, and when I finally realized I was pushing her away, I stopped being an idiot. I made things right, and we came through it stronger. Now, I'd appreciate it if you didn't drag that up with her, but if you have to, go ahead. He will do everything he can to make my life miserable, won't he?"

"We only want to get a feel for the lay of the land here, Mr. Lawson," Kelsey said.

"It can be hard to go through that," John admitted. "I’m glad you came out stronger on the other side."

"Yeah, thanks," Jacob said.

"What is the lay of the land with this fighting over the crop failure?" Kelsey asked.

"It shouldn’t have been anything," Jacob admitted. "We’ve always stuck together and are stronger when we do. They were scared. Frank the most. He wanted someone to blame so he could make sense of it, and the only thing to change was the supplier I was using, so he latched onto that. He became fixated on it, and now, it consumes him. I agree it would be better if there were an answer to all of this, but there’s not. Crop failure happens. We all know that as farmers."

"Is everyone a part of this divide?" John asked.

"Most of the farmers around here," Jacob replied. "It bubbles just below the surface. No one talks about it face to face, but it’s always in the background. You're either with Frank Holloway or against him. I’ve reached out several times, but he won't listen to reason. I don't like to do this, but if he sends you over here to question me about my personal life, you might want to look into why Frank Holloway fares better than most."

"What do you mean?" Kelsey asked.

"We all lost a lot with the crop failure last year, but Frank is the only one who doesn’t seem to suffer as much as the rest of us. He lost most of his crops, but he came out of it alright," Jacob said. "I like to let people be, but if he wants to try and blame me for all of this, then let him taste some of his own medicine. Something is going on at that farm"

***

"What do you make of all this?" John asked.

Kelsey looked up from her desk. They had been set up in a small room in the local police station while the investigation was ongoing. They were still deciding whether to return to Winchburgh for the night or find a place in town.

"We have a split between the farmers, and the scientist brought to town to test the soil is killed. We have a farmhand killed in the exact same way, so we know they are connected. There was a crop failure last year, and you can almost feel that hanging over the town. Is that enough to make someone angry enough to kill? If it is, why are the two chosen victims? If anything, they would benefit the farms."

"Unless someone is to blame for the crop failure," John noted.

"We don’t have a strong link so far," Kelsey noted. "On one side, we have the scientist who came to prove that Jacob Lawson was to blame, and on the other, we have Michael Torres, who Frank Holloway blamed for cross-contamination."

"We got the report through from Jacob Lawson, and it confirms that the chemicals he was using were not to blame for the crop failure last year," John said.

"That may be, but I don't think that convinces Frank Holloway or the other farmers."

"Convinces them of what?" Sheriff Ethan Cobb asked from the doorway.

"What’s your read on the farmers here?" Kelsey asked. "There’s a third-party report commissioned by Jacob Lawson showing that his pesticides were not to blame for the crop failures last year. Do the other farmers take that at face value?"

"Are you asking if the farmers are idiots or if Jacob Lawson is a liar?" the sheriff asked.

"Neither," Kelsey said, frustrated. "I only want to get a read on what’s what in town."

"How about you stick to the facts and not your fancy theories?" Sheriff Cobb asked before walking away.

Kelsey looked over at John and widened her eyes. John replied with the same and shook his head.

"Okay, we have this divide," Kelsey continued. "Jacob against Frank, and we have two deaths. It doesn't make sense for either side to want both victims dead, so what does that give us? It suggests that Olivia Reeves was not killed because she was investigating the soil content, and Michael Torres was not killed because of cross-contamination."

"Does that put Jacob and Frank in the clear?" John asked.

"No," Kelsey replied. "Jacob does have a strong alibi, but could his wife cover for him for some reason? Sleeping in bed is convenient, but it’s never the best alibi. We know that the two bodies were found in fields that had poor yields last year, strengthening the connection to the crop failures."

"Why does someone kill because of crop failures?" John asked.

"That’s what we need to find out," Kelsey replied. "I’d like to know how the crops are faring this year. If early indications show that it might be another bad year, then we have a lot of angry farmers on our hands. That could be motivation to snap. This is their livelihood. One year of bad yields is tough; a second year could ruin all of them."

"So, someone gets hit hard, and there’s nothing they can do, so they take out their anger on… whoever they can find?"

"Something like that, but it’s premeditated," Kelsey said. "We know Michael Torres left earlier this morning to go somewhere, which means he was either meeting someone or doing something. It could be a coincidence that the killer stumbled upon him, but that feels too much of a coincidence. I'd bet he was going to meet with the killer, not knowing what was about to unfold."

"I’ll see if we can get anything on his movements from this morning," John said. "The search team at the Lawson farm didn't find Michael’s cell phone. Whoever killed him took it, which points to your theory being correct. They wanted to cover their tracks."

Kelsey looked at the crime scene photos on her desk of the first crime scene. Five days previous, Olivia Reeves was killed and left in a wheat field. She was stabbed to death and then tied to a crucifix to look like a scarecrow. She wasn’t discovered until the early afternoon when the farmer had spotted the figure from the upper window of his house and went down to check it out. He had an airtight alibi based on the statement Kelsey had read.

Olivia Reeves was twenty-nine years old and an agricultural scientist from South Dakota. She had traveled up on Frank Holloway’s request to check the soil of local farms. She had been killed.

It gave them one local man and one woman from out of state, and still no reason that Kelsey could see for the killer to kill both of them, which meant the deaths were not connected to the victims. They were connected to the farms and the crop failures.

Or we have a serial killer on our hands who is killing for fun.

"Hey," John said.

Kelsey looked up again.

"It feels like we are here for the night," John continued. "I should find us a place to stay."

Kelsey ran her teeth over her lips as she looked at John.

"I can… we can get two rooms, and then…" John said.

"Yeah," Kelsey agreed quickly.

She didn't know what she wanted. They could get one room and sleep in the bed together, but that didn’t mean they couldn't still share a bed if they got two rooms. She wasn’t sure if it was better for John to be a gentleman and get them to rooms or presume they would her and force her into something she wanted.

"Yeah, two rooms are fine," Kelsey added.

It would be a long night, and as much as she wanted to be closer to John, they needed to focus on the work.

John nodded. "In the morning, we can return to the Holloway farm and find out if Frank is still hiding things from us."

Kelsey smiled. "Or if he has new information that will send us back to Jacob’s farm again."

CHAPTER SIX

Kelsey and John emerged from their motel rooms at the same time. Around seven, Kelsey received a call informing her that the autopsy was complete and they could come in to discuss it. She called John in his room to tell him.

"Morning," John said.

"Good morning," Kelsey replied.

"Yeah, pretty good," John said. He walked over to Kelsey and rubbed her upper arm.

Kelsey smiled as she felt the tingle run through her body. It had been too late, and they were both tired when they returned to the motel to think about doing anything other than sleeping. They had been on a few dates back in Winchburgh but had yet to define their relationship.

Kelsey ached to kiss him, but it felt unprofessional in the circumstances. She settled for gazing into his eyes as he rubbed her arm.

"You ready?" John asked.

"Yeah," Kelsey smiled.

They got into John’s truck, and he drove them to the medical examiner’s office. It was nice out. The sun was rising through the sky, and there were only tiny wisps of cloud above. Kelsey was used to the winter snow, but returning to the state's summer weather was nice.

Kelsey sighed as she stared out the window. "I’m worried about Erica."

"Have you heard from her?" John asked.

"No, not yet. I called her last night from the station to let her know I wouldn’t be home," Kelsey said. "I know it’s only been one night, but the last time I was away for a while, she thought someone was in the apartment, and Sheriff Anderson had to break down the door."

Kelsey was sure it was a mix of reality and hallucination. They had been watching her and Erica and knew where they were. Kelsey had seen someone following her before leaving town. Yet, she didn't believe that someone had been in the apartment to get Erica. She couldn’t tell Erica that, or she would lose her trust, but it didn't make sense that someone had entered the apartment when Erica was there and did not confront or try to take her. There was no sign of forced entry or anyone in the apartment.

Yet, the message Kelsey received was very real, and it was a double-edged sword. They would soon call upon her for a favor but had to leave Erica alone until then. Whether or not they would come after her and her sister depended on Kelsey’s ultimate decision.

"I know I keep saying this, but she has been through a lot," John consoled. "Sheriff Anderson is around, and if we have to stay here longer, she can go and stay with him. We are only an hour away if something should happen."

"Yeah, I know," Kelsey said. "I don't want to be away from her for too long. I understand that this makes things harder for us, but I—"

"Don't even," John said. "I like you, Kelsey. I’m under no illusion that we don't both come with our baggage. I have a daughter. You have your sister. In my opinion, we accept the whole package. We take things slowly, and we make it work."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Kelsey said.

"Of course, if it doesn't work, one of us has to leave town, and I did live in Winchburgh first."

Kelsey chuckled.

"Wait, what’s funny?" John asked.

Kelsey laughed again and shook her head.

"Alright, this is it," John said. He swung into the parking lot and stopped the vehicle close to the door.

When they got out, John waited by the vehicle for Kelsey to come around.

"I'm glad we are doing this," John said. "Us, I mean, not the investigation, though it’s a good thing we are leading the investigation, too."

"Yeah, I agree. On both counts."

John smiled, then turned and headed toward the medical examiner’s office. Kelsey followed behind, watching him the entire way. He was her protector, and he would always be whether their relationship worked out or not. Yet, she still struggled to tell him about the threat she had received. He could be too protective and want to go in all guns blazing.

The only problems were that Kelsey needed to figure out who to target, where they were, how many of them they would face, and how powerful the organization was. She was also painfully aware that the guns they would blaze when they went in were woefully inadequate. She could count on Sheriff Andersen and the team in Winchburgh and could lean on the FBI for help, but if they became aware of that, they might act swiftly, and Erica could be taken.

Again!

"Deputy Gallant," John said to the young man at the front desk. "Dr. Chan is expecting us."

"You can go on through," the man said. "I'll call her and let her know."

The door to the left of the reception desk buzzed, and John pushed through it. Kelsey followed. The medical examiner, Amelia Chan, met them on the other side of the door.

She introduced herself and led them into her office.

"Bad omens," Amelia said.

"Bad omens?" Kelsey repeated.

"You can feel it in the air," Amelia said. "The bad harvest last year, and now this! And all the stuff in between."

"What stuff has there been in between?" Kelsey asked.

"Nothing like this, but there have been other problems," Amelia explained. "Tractors breaking down, stone stuck in combine blades, a sickness that ran through the Robson farm, cattle birth rates have fallen, and goodness knows what else."

"How much of that is expected?" John asked.

"I know what you must think of me," Amelia said. "I’m a woman of science, but I know when the universe is telling us something. Yes, a lot of the bad luck is stuff that happens from year to year on some farm, but you can feel it in the air."

"What can you feel in the air?" John asked.

"It’s like a curse has fallen over the area," Amelia replied.

John looked at Kelsey and then back at the medical examiner. "Why would a curse fall over the area? Did something happen here before this all started?"

Amelia shook her head. "Not that I know of, but that doesn’t mean something didn't happen. I think there will be more."

"More deaths?" Kelsey asked.

"Yes," Amelia replied. "Until we atone for what we have done." Amelia pursed her lips and opened the folder on her desk. "Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. So, you wanted to know about the victims."

"We do," Kelsey said slowly.

"Alright, let’s see what we have here. I did the autopsies on both victims, and the results are pretty straightforward. Both victims were stabbed to death, and from the blood in the area, it’s certain that the victims were stabbed in the fields where they were found." She liked up at Kelsey and John. "Perhaps the killer had to spill the blood into the earth."

"How about you give us the facts and leave the theories to us," John suggested.

"Yes, yes, of course," Amelia replied. "Multiple stab wounds in the stomach and chest of both victims, rope burns on the wrist, much worse than the ankles, so they might have been bound at the wrists before they were killed. Nails through the palms of both victims, along with rope around the arms and legs to attach them to the crosses. It is a very strong religious motif, in my opinion, but I'll leave that side of it to you. Now, while the deaths looked identical, there was a difference between them. Olivia Reeves died from stab wounds, one of which lacerated her heart. However, I believe Michael Torres was still alive when he was raised on the cross. He died from loss of blood."

"Jacob Lawson thought he heard someone in the field that morning," Kelsey pointed out. Maybe he disturbed the killer before he could finish the job."

"He would most likely have been unconscious the entire time," Amelia pointed out.

"Anything else?" John asked. "Was there any other DNA evidence found on either victim? Do you know what was used to stab the victims?"

"We didn’t find any other DNA, I’m afraid. As for the murder weapon, it was probably a hunting knife. They are extremely easy to get around here. I'd bet that most people have one in the home."

"Alright," Kelsey said. "We have two dead and nothing to tell us who might have done it. Dr. Chen? Do you know much about the feud with the farmers?"

"I try to stay out of that sort of thing, but I heard rumors. Nothing more than there was a disagreement between some of them. You know what caused it, don't you?"

"Please don't say a curse," John replied.

Amelia held up her hands. "I'll leave that up to you."

***

The barn was dimly lit. The sun was up, but there were few windows in the large building. A small opening up at the hay loft was the only window in view that let the golden sunlight in, and most of that was blocked by the upper floor, bathing him and the table in only a smattering of illumination. It was enough to see by.

The large doors at the far end of the barn were closed, but the sunlight created a golden rectangle around them. The barn was over a hundred years old and had been unused for years. It was the perfect place to prepare.

"It has to be done. It has to be done. It has to be done. It has to be done," the man muttered, hunched over the table. He picked up nails, one by one, checking each one but casting none out. He could use any of them, but he wanted to take the straightest of the ones he had found in the barn. They were orange with rust, as old as the barn themselves, but they were strong, a testament to time, and that was important.

He selected four of them, two more than needed, and rubbed them first with the rag. Flakes of orange and brown rust came off.

He stopped for a minute, breathing heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring. The anger came for him again. There was a lot to be angry about in his life, but his meager existence paled compared to the world. He could not save the world, but he could save his part of it. He would not let it happen again. The anger within at the previous year fueled his desire to ensure nothing like that ever happened again.

"I've been chosen for this. I must do what needs to be done."

The man gained control over his anger and returned to the nails. He dipped them in soapy water and ran a small brush over them, then dipped them in oil and played them on a clean piece of brown fabric. When four nails were on the fabric, he wrapped it up and put it aside.

The man’s head shot up, and he turned his ear toward the hayloft. He could not be sure if he heard anything. Still, he got up from the small table and walked past the wood he would use for the next crucifix. He went to the wooden ladder and climbed silently up into the hayloft. He crept toward the window.

Slowly. If someone is out there, they can't see me, or this will all be over—either for them or for me.

He sidled up to the opening and leaned slightly to his left to see out. The fields around were overgrown with long grasses and bushes. Some stalks of corn or wheat peeked through in parts where the seeds had continued propagating. The wind moved the grasses back and forth.

The man cast his eyes slowly over the fields. There were no other buildings for miles. He was alone, and no one had ever ventured out to the old farmhouses. As he looked down at the fields, he knew he was still alone. The noise was not someone walking the fields but an animal, perhaps, or the wind moving through the grass differently.

He fished the map from his pocket and opened it as he stood above the fields. The old and worn map showed the division of farms in the area. It had a dozen circles, each denoting a farm, and two of the circles were filled with ‘Xs.’

They showed where the first two had been installed. He was still determining where the third would go but would have to decide soon.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"So, what do you make of all that?" John asked as they drove back to Frank Holloway's farm from the medical examiner’s office.

"I think she is a very interesting person," Kelsey replied.

John let out a laugh through his nose.

"Now, can I disprove there is a curse in the area?" Kelsey asked. "No, I can't disprove that. Still, I don't believe it, even if she clearly believes it. Does that mean others in the area also believe there is a curse? I don't know, but we heard what Jacob Lawson said about Frank Holloway. He wanted someone to blame for the failing crops—he needed to understand it. Is it better to think that it’s all just bad luck, or is it better to imagine a curse? That takes the blame away from individuals. Frank Holloway blames Jacob Lawson, but maybe Jacob blames the curse."

"What does that mean for the case, though?" John asked.

Kelsey let out a breath through her nose. "It means more complications. So far, we have the facts and the surrounding feelings and beliefs. The fact is that knife wounds killed both victims. The first died instantly, and the second bled out on the cross. We know that whoever killed them is pretty handy—they made the cross—and they are strong—they managed to kill the victims, bind them, and raise them on a cross. That could be a lot of people around here with so many farm workers, but we must be looking for a man."

"That narrows it down to a little over half the area’s population," John noted.

"Yeah," Kelsey complained. "We can also suspect that the killer was known to at least one of the victims: Michael Torres. We still don't have any phone data, but it looked like Michael left early on the morning he was killed. Again, that doesn't narrow it down all that much, and we can’t be sure the victim or victims knew the killer. That leaves us with the motive."

"And that is?" John asked hopefully.

"And those are," Kelsey corrected. "We know people are angry. We have farmers blaming each other, jobs lost, more jobs on the line, and everyone else connected to the agricultural industry in the area. There are a lot of reasons to be disgruntled. Would that drive someone to kill? We’ve seen it in our line of work that small things can drive people to kill."

"Or nothing at all," John interjected. "We might still have a good old-fashioned serial killer on our hands that is not connected to the farms at all. I've seen enough as well to know that killers like this favor seclusion. Maybe he comes out here to kill because he can do it secretly in the fields and escape without being seen. Maybe there is no reason to it."

"Maybe," Kelsey agreed. "Yet, there is still reason to the madness. We can look at the presentation of the victims as mimicking scarecrows or crucifixions. Either of those gives us a reason, whether the killer has a motive to kill or not. There is a reason they put the victims on crosses, and if we discover that, we get closer to catching them."

"So, we have some religious fanatic or someone who likes to cosplay their victims as scarecrows?" John asked.

"Somewhat, and maybe," Kelsey replied. "They are arranged like scarecrows, especially being in the middle of fields, but they are not dressed up in any way. Does that mean they are not meant to be scarecrows? Or do they not want the additional dressing? Do they see it as beneath them to dress up the victims with old clothes and straw? If it were religious, they could put the crosses up anywhere. Yet, they specifically chose the fields."

"Which brings us back to the farms being the connection," John said. "And speaking of that, we are here."

They pulled to a stop before the Holloway farmhouse.

"Let’s see what he or his wife have to say for themselves today," John said.

He and Kelsey got out of the vehicle and approached the door. They knocked, and Marcy Holloway answered a moment later. She smiled as if there was no one else in the world she would rather have at her door.

"Good morning," Marcy said. "What can we do for you today?"

"We’d like to speak to your husband," John said.

"No, not today," Marcy said. "He’s awfully busy."

"He’s not too busy to speak to us," John said. "Is he in the house?"

"Yes, but you should really come back some other time," Marcy said.

"Do we need a warrant to search the house?" John asked.

"Are you in any danger?" Kelsey added.

"Danger? Goodness, no," Marcy replied. "Just so busy around here today. How about you come back tomorrow?"

"Mrs. Holloway," Kelsey warned. She stared the woman down. Something was happening in the house, and they were not leaving without finding out what that was.

"Yes, okay, fine," Marcy said impatiently. Then she turned and shouted into the house, "Frank, we have guests!"

Kelsey didn't wait for an invitation in—she could hear from the tone of voice that the call into the house was a warning. She pushed past Marcy and headed for the rear of the house and whatever she would find there.

"Marcy, I told you no visitors today!" Frank blustered when Kelsey reached the kitchen.

He stood up from the table at the arrival and scrambled to gather up the papers on the table.

"What are you doing here!" he shouted at Kelsey as he gathered everything. "You can’t come in here without a warrant."

"What are you doing, Mr. Holloway?" Kelsey asked.

"That’s none of your business," Frank replied. "I don't have to tell you anything, and you've no right to barge in here to try and catch me off-guard."

"Catch you doing what?" Kelsey pushed, watching him gather the papers. She couldn’t see what was on them, but she knew they were important in some way. She could feel John behind her.

"I haven’t done anything wrong," Frank claimed.

"Do you know how hard it is to run a farm?" Marcy asked from behind.

"Marcy, shut your mouth!" Frank demanded as he put the papers in a file. I told you not to let anyone in, and now we have the police in our kitchen, and you go running your mouth about things you know nothing about."

"You’re completely right," Marcy said meekly. "I get so ahead of myself at times."

"What is this?" Kelsey asked.

"It’s not any of my business," Marcy said. "Frank takes care of these matters."

"What matters are those. Mr. Holloway?" John asked.

Frank’s nostrils flared as he looked between his wife and the two law enforcement, and it was hard to tell who he was most angry at.

"I don't have to do or say anything," Frank claimed. "What are you going to do? Arrest me?"

"Well, there’s an idea," Kelsey said.

She could feel John tense as she did. Something was about to happen, and they could feel it.

Frank swallowed. Then he ran for the back door.

"Out of my way!" he shouted at a farm hand. He grabbed the young man and threw him back toward John and Kelsey.

John grabbed the man and pushed him aside as he pursued Frank. The farmer was older but surprisingly fast. He barreled toward the cornfield with the papers in hand. Kelsey ran at an angle, entering the cornfield a few rows to the right, hoping to head Frank off.

The corn leaves scratched at her face as she ran through the field, and she had to bring her hands up to protect herself. She didn't think about her gun. Frank had taken off suddenly, and she knew he would not have a gun on him. He might have rifles and shotguns in his home, but it was unlikely he would have a handgun on his person.

The reason for his attempted escape was the documents on the table. Kelsey’s mind flashed back to what Jacob Lawson had told them. Frank’s farm had fared well through the crop failures, and it was a good bet that the documents were connected to that.

Kelsey shuffled quickly to the left and into the next row, hardly breaking her stride.

Is whatever is contained in the documents worth killing over?

She glanced to the left and saw a figure running parallel to her. The corn was too dense to see who it was, but she knew it was Frank and not John from how he ran. Kelsey pushed herder, her lungs burning as she sprinted. She shuffled to the left again, matching Frank’s speed, and ran in the row beside him.

One final burst of speed took her ahead, and she waited for the next opening. Kelsey saw it up ahead. She lunged to the left and slammed her body into Frank Holloway.

He let out an ‘oof!’ and slammed into the corn to his left, breaking through a few thick stalks as Kelsey took him down. She collapsed on top of him as the sheets of paper flew up into the air and then rained down like large, flat snowflakes.

"Stay down!" John ordered as he arrived.

Kelsey pushed herself, ready to draw her weapon if needed. John panted, glaring down at Frank.

Frank looked like half the man he was in the farmhouse. He was the boss back there but wasn’t out in the cornfield.

He looked back up at John. "I want to speak to my lawyer."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lisa Garret was working late. She studied the charts on her screen, determining whether the overall efficiency of the simulations she ran could be improved. After tweaking the parameters, she hit the button and waited for the results to return. The information didn't pertain to any one farm, but the more simulations she ran, the better equipped the company would be to go into a farm and improve performance.

Especially when it looked like another challenging year ahead.

The company she worked for went into small local farms and large farms farther away, and they instructed the farmers on how to get the best from what they had. They didn't sell anything other than their consulting expertise. Unless new equipment or something missing was needed to run the farm normally.

In most cases, it was as simple as adjusting employee schedules, rearranging the order of operations, or eliminating bottlenecks. Sometimes, it came down to the type of crops grown or how efficient the harvesting equipment was. In extreme cases, the entire farm had to be designed, and that never happened. Those were the farms that didn't make it. It often cost too much, but it ultimately cost the farm.

The results had not yet come back when there was a knock at the door.

Lisa looked up from the computer screen. She thought it might be someone in the office, but they had all gone home for the day.

The man held up one hand and smiled. "I’m sorry to bother you," he said. "I was referred to you by a friend, and I should have called, but I was in the area and thought it would be good to talk face-to-face. I can go away and come back tomorrow if you like."

"No, that’s fine," Lisa said. She often had farmers turn up at the office without making an appointment. "Are you looking for consulting services?"

"Um, yeah, kind of," he replied. "I just wanted to talk and see where we can go from there."

"I understand money is tight," Lisa told him. "How about we chat a little, and if you like what you hear, you can formally employ me and the company. Money is tight for us too, with many farmers not wanting to increase expenditure at all after the previous year, but I can assure you that with a little investment, we can ensure the best harvest possible." Lisa stood up from her desk and indicated that they should walk while they talked. "We can't guarantee anything, but we can guarantee that if there is a yield this year, it will be your best yield possible at the smallest cost. Typically, those farms that deal with us make back the consulting fee over a five-year period and only save money after that. Does that sound like something you'd be interested in?"

"Perhaps," the man said. "Do you know what caused the poor harvest last year? You consult on how to make farms better. If you had been consulted, could that have been avoided?"

"Avoided?" Lisa asked. She pursed her lips. "I’m not sure. We deal with efficiency, but things often happen that are out of our control. When I say our control, I mean all of us. I know there was some disease, and there wasn’t as much rain, and many other factors. What we do is take what you have and improve it. If there is no harvest, we can't create a harvest, if that makes sense."

"Yes, it does," the man said. "I don't want that to happen again. I really want to help everyone because if I don't, then we all fail together."

"That is one way of looking at it," Lisa confirmed.

"I’m the only one who has what it takes to make amends for last year," the man told her.

"There haven’t been many who have employed our services this year," Lisa admitted. "When the farms suffer, we suffer too. Farmers don't consult us when things are going well, but that is often the best time to do so."

"This place is empty," the man said.

"Yes, I’m working late, and—" Lisa sensed something in the air. "Sorry, I didn't get your name."

"No, you didn’t," the man said.

Lisa laughed nervously, unsure if it was a joke. "Maybe you should come back in the morning, and we can talk properly. I'm sure I can help you with whatever your needs are."

"I know you can help," the man said.

He stared intently at her, and Lisa knew the man had not come for help with his farm. She didn't know if he even had one.

"You should go," Lisa said.

The man shook his head.

Lisa turned and ran for her office. If she could make it there, she could close and lock the door and have enough time to call the police. She looked behind as she ran, feeling him breathing down her neck, but no one was there. Lisa almost stumbled at the surprise of not finding him behind her, and as she turned toward her office again, she ran starlight into him.

Lisa screa—

A hand clamped over her mouth before she got a sound out. She felt his warm, unsettling breath in her ear.

"It has to be you," he said. "You want to help, and you'll help, which is why it has to be you."

***

Kelsey and John entered the police station to find Detective Brennan waiting for them. They had hoped to talk with Frank Holloway the previous evening, but it had taken some time for his lawyer to arrive, and they had spoken at length. It had been decided they would talk to him in the morning, his lawyer turning to be a part of the proceedings, and that was what they were there to do.

"Good morning," Detective Brennan said. "We have the phone data back from Michael Torres’s phone."

"What did you find?" Kelsey asked.

"Not a lot, unfortunately," the detective replied. "Michael’s phone is no longer receiving data, leading us to believe that it has been turned off and disposed of somewhere. But, we do have an unknown number that called Michael Torres the night before he was killed. The number is not registered to anyone, and the phone has since been disconnected, so we don't have anything from that either."

"It pairs with the theory that he knew the person who killed him," Kelsey said. "Someone called Michael Torres the night before and arranged to meet him the next morning. Michael Leaves early, and when he meets whoever the caller is, they kill him. Okay, please focus on Michael Torres for now. We are sure the two murders are connected, but someone lured Michael out, and he knew that person. Find out if anyone had a reason to hurt Michael."

"Anyone else," John corrected.

"That’s right," Kelsey said. "We are about to talk with Frank Holloway. He blamed Michael for transporting soil from the Lawson farm to his. He claimed that is what caused the poor harvest. Find out if Frank Holloway spoke to any of the other farmers and if they have a reason to blame Michael."

"I’m on it," Detective Brennan said.

"So, what are we looking at now?" Sheriff Cobb asked as he sauntered over from the doorway of his office. "We have a farmer killing people and making them into scarecrows because they didn’t grow enough corn and wheat?"

"Would you care to offer your opinion on the killings?" John asked.

"It’s obvious to me," the sheriff said. "We have a lunatic running around. Probably some drifter with a history of mental illness. You should be talking to mental hospitals and re-check that no one has escaped in the area. Maybe the chain of communication was broken somewhere along the way. It doesn't take a genius to see that this is the work of a psychopath."

"Now, we can agree on that," Kelsey said. "I do believe we are dealing with a psychopath. I enjoy working with various people as others see things I can’t. Follow that through, Sheriff Cobb. You might be onto something. We’ll follow this path and you can follow yours. The more ground we cover, the better. I appreciate the help."

"Well, yes, of course. I know the people around here."

"Let us know what you find," Kelsey said as she walked away.

"Well, that’s a whole lot better than what I was about to say," John said.

"We might be here for a while," Kelsey reminded. "And I thought I was supposed to be the impulsive one."

"You’ve changed big time since coming to North Dakota," John noted.

"Hopefully, for the better."

John smiled. "I like you much better now. I thought you were pretty among when you first rolled into town, but we did butt heads a little."

"I can be like that sometimes."

"So, what do you think we find in here?" John asked, nodding toward the interrogation room door.

"He’s been up to something," Kelsey admitted. "I don't know if he’s been skimming money from the farm or if something else is going on, but if Jacob Lawson is to be believed, there’s money coming from somewhere."

"I went over the financials last night, comparing it to other farms in the area, and nothing stands out, but he does seem to have weathered the storm better than most," John said. "Do you think that is connected to the murders? Maybe he killed the two victims to cover up what he did."

"We’ll find out in that room," Kelsey said.

John rapped on the door and opened it. Frank Holloway sat at the desk in the denim overalls he had been arrested in. He sat as if he were still at his kitchen table and was annoyed that someone had entered his house. His lawyer wore a nice suit, but it wasn’t the type that the prominent lawyers from the city wore. He was from out of town, but it was all Frank could afford.

"Mr. Holloway, we are investigating a double homicide," Kelsey said as she entered the room and went to the table.

"My client has nothing to do with that," the lawyer said.

"No?" Kelsey asked as she sat down. "Then why is it that when we went to his farm as part of our investigation, Mr. Holloway tried to run from us."

"Why is my client a part of your investigation?" the lawyer asked.

Kelsey smiled. "Is this your tactic? Do you hope to go around in circles until we run out of steam? Mr. Holloway was part of our general investigation, but he’s the only person we have spoken to so far who has run from us when questioned."

"I don't think I've seen a bigger admission of guilt," John said.

"There’s no guilt here," the lawyer said. "My client is not guilty of anything; neither has he admitted any guilt?"

"No, you're completely right," Kelsey said. "He ran from us because he likes to get out and sample the fresh air." Kelsey placed her hands down on the table. "How about we cut the crap, and Mr. Holloway answers some of our questions?"

"You're investigating two murders," the lawyer said. "My client has already given you an alibi for the second murder, and we can provide you with an alibi for the first."

"You see, the alibi he gave us is not watertight, so it means nothing right now," John said. "We would love to hear his alibi for the second murder, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have killed Michael Torres, a man he had a disagreement with and blamed for the failing crops."

"My client was with his wife the entire night and morning on the day when Olivia Reeves was found dead," the lawyer continued. "Mrs. Holloway will testify to that."

"Do you know what?" Kelsey asked. "We aren’t really getting anywhere here, are we? Mrs. Holloway is his alibi. Okay, then we will talk to her." Kelsey stood up from the table. "We can ask her what is really going on with the farm. I’m sure she will be happy to answer our questions. So you also represent Mrs. Holloway?"

"I don’t," the lawyer said.

"Good," Kelsey said as she headed for the door. "Deputy Gallant, let’s bring Mrs. Holloway in. I think we have enough to hold and question her while we do a forensic audit on the Holloway farm finances."

"Money is a big motivator," John agreed. "It drives people to do things they normally wouldn’t do."

Kelsey was already out, and John was half out the door when Frank called after them. "Alright, alright. You don't need to involve her in this. She doesn't know anything and always says too much."

"Mr. Holloway, you don't have—" the lawyer started.

"She’s not involved in this," Frank said. "You can leave her out of this, okay?"

Kelsey stopped and followed John back into the room.

"Just tell us what is going on, and if your wife is not involved, then we will leave her alone," John said.

He and Kelsey stood at the table, both staring at Frank.

"We’ve all had it hard," Frank said. "And it’s the way the system is set up."

Kelsey sat down, and John followed.

Kelsey suggested, "Why don't you take us through it, and we can proceed from there?"

"I was acting alone, okay. Marcy didn't know anything about it. When you came poking around, I got spooked, and I ran, and I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. I apologize for that. But I didn't kill anyone. I'd never do that. I might have argued with Michael Torres, but he was a hard worker, and I respected him. I’m sad he’s gone."

"What did you do?" John asked.

"I might have claimed a little more insurance money that I was due," Frank said. He held up his hands, and his eyes widened. "I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing that if it were not absolutely necessary, but the farm would have folded without the cash flow."

"How did you do that?" Kelsey asked.

The lawyer whispered in Frank’s ear.

"Oh, will you shut your mouth," Frank demanded. "I’ve admitted to it now. What is there left to do?" He looked back at Kelsey. "I inflated the yield that was lost last year. I overestimated the size of my fields, and I claimed for crops that were not planted. I know what I did was wrong, but a lot of people depend on me. As much as we fight, we are all in it together. We all know that if one of us fails, there’s more for everyone else, but we don't work like that. I think Jacob knew what I was doing, but he never told anyone. He could have tossed me to the wolves, but we have deep roots as farmers."

"Do you have an alibi for the first murder?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't think it will satisfy you," Frank said. "I was with Marcy. I could have snuck out of bed during the night, and she wouldn’t have noticed, but I didn't. I had planned to meet Mrs. Reeves later that day. I've correspondence to prove it. Why would I arrange to meet her and then kill her before that? I wanted her to prove what I already knew, but now she can’t. I had no reason to kill her."

"We’ll have to check all of that out," Kelsey said. "I appreciate the honesty, and I hope you're being honest about everything."

"I don't blame you if you don't believe me," Frank said. "I’m a liar and a cheat. I don't deserve anything."

"Tell me one thing," Kelsey said. "What were the projections for this year? How are the crops looking?"

Frank sighed. "There’s still a lot of the growing season to go, so that might change, but things are not looking good. If we are hit two years in a row, many of us won't survive this. It’s all a gamble and a scam anyway. We pay into an insurance fund, and they make it as difficult as possible when it comes time to claim. I’ve seen good men lose their farms because the insurance companies delay or refuse to pay out. They’re supposed to be our safety net but run on greed. You should be investigating them."

"That’s an investigation for someone else," Kelsey said. "All we want to do is to find out why two people are dead and stop any more deaths."

"I hope you do find them," Frank said.

Kelsey looked at the lawyer, who looked like the most annoyed man in the world. His client had spoken far too freely for his liking. Kelsey nodded at him before standing up.

"We’ll hold you for now, Mr. Holloway, until we find out what’s going on," Kelsey said.

"I’ll stay as long as you need to and answer any questions," Frank said.

The lawyer leaned in to whisper again, and Frank batted him away.

"Stop trying to kiss my ear!" Frank shouted. "If you have something to say, then say it."

Kelsey and John left the room, leaving the two men to air their grievances.

Sheriff Cobb was waiting for them outside the room, and he managed to look smug without smiling.

"While you have one of our farmers in there, another person is dead," the sheriff said. "There’s another scarecrow waiting for you."

CHAPTER NINE

When John and Kelsey arrived at another farm, everything started to look the same. The farmhouse was a little different; the barn was a different shade of red, and there was no corn growing, but everything blurred together. It was all wooden buildings and neat rows of crops. There was a tractor. Farmhands were milling about.

Kelsey recognized two of them from the Lawson farm: Bobby Dillon and Tyler Moss. They were both standing by the farmhouse. Then Kelsey spotted something very different. Tyler Moss could not stand still, and the front of his coveralls were bloodied. Bobby Dillon was doing his best to console the other farmhand.

John looked at Kelsey before they got out of the vehicle—he had spotted the same. He raised an eyebrow.

"I can only guess that he found the body," Kelsey said.

Detective Brennan was also there. When she spotted the deputy sheriff and FBI agent, she headed straight for them. As she walked, she turned to see where Kelsey was looking.

"He found the body early this morning," Detective Brennan said. "Same thing. The woman was nailed to a cross and placed in the middle of a soybean field. Only this time, she was still alive when she was found. And she spoke to Tyler Moss before she died."

"She spoke to him?" Kelsey asked.

"Not much, but we think the victim tried to identify her killer before she died."

"Who is she?" Kelsey asked.

"Lisa Garret," Detective Brennan replied. "She was an agricultural consultant who worked with some of the farmers around here. I spoke to Ronald Benson, the farmer here, who informed me she was well respected around these parts. That she had helped a couple of his friends out."

Kelsey turned around and put her hands on her hips, looking away from all the visual noise.

"What are you thinking?" John asked.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Kelsey replied. "Three bodies all placed in fields, suggesting a connection to the farm, with last year's bad harvest being the obvious link. Yet, all three victims are people who could help: a scientist, a hardworking farm hand, and now, an agricultural consultant. If the killings are random, it seems like too much of a coincidence. If the victims are targeted, why target those who could help?"

"Maybe the killer blamed them for the poor yields," John suggested.

"We can check into it, but Detective Brennan already said that the farmer here was praising her, and the visiting scientist had nothing to do with last year. Even if Frank Holloway thought Michael Torres had spread disease, he was still a hardworking farm hand. With Frank being locked up last night, we can rule him out of this murder, and I believe the other two by default unless we have a group working together. No, I don't see it. It feels like someone working alone. We just need to figure out to what end." Kelsey turned to the detective. "Everything was the same as before?"

"It is, but Tyler Moss tried to move the body, as you can see by his clothes," the detective confirmed. "When Tyler Moss found the victim and discovered she was still alive, he tried to get her down from the cross, but she was nailed to it. She died in his arms."

"Alright, let’s talk with Tyler first and then examine the body," Kelsey said.

The detective nodded. They approached Tyler, and he looked at them with a grimace as they got close. Tyler wrung his dirty hands together as if trying to remove the blood from them.

"Mr. Moss, Special Agent Hawk would like to speak with you," Detective Brennan said. She gestured for Bobby to go with her and gave them space to talk.

"You found the body?" Kelsey asked.

"I tried to save her," Tyler said. "Maybe if I hadn’t…"

"Hadn’t what?" Kelsey probed.

"I tried to get her down from the cross, but I didn’t realize she had been nailed to it. I didn’t have any tools with me, or I might have saved her. If I had—"

"No, you couldn’t have," Kelsey said. "There was nothing you could have done."

Tyler rubbed his forehead and looked down at the ground, unable to meet their eyes. "She’s dead because of me."

Kelsey could hear the sadness in his voice. He blamed himself for her death, and there was nothing she could say that would remedy that.

"We were told she was still alive when you got to her," Kelsey said.

"Barely," Tyler whispered.

"What did she say to you?" Kelsey asked.

"I thought she was talking about my eyes," Tyler said. "She was looking at me, and she kept muttering something about green eyes. I have green eyes, so I thought… I think she was trying to tell me who… did that to her. She told me she heard the cows. I thought she was delirious, but she kept repeating it over and over. ‘The cows. I can hear them. I hear them.’ I told her not to talk, but she… she did stop taking."

"I’m sorry," John said. "Nothing will make this better, but this information could help us catch whoever did this."

"It feels like bad luck follows me around. First Michael, and now this. I love this work, but I don't know anymore."

"We can have someone sit down and talk with you if you need that," Kelsey said. "For now, just stay here, and we will have someone come along soon to talk you through what comes next. We’ll need to take your clothing in case anything else was transferred. We will make that happen as quickly as we can."

"I need to get away from here," Tyler stated. "I can't stay in these clothes. I need to wash her blood off. I can't stay like this."

"Just take it easy," John said. "Let’s go inside, and we’ll find you some clothes to change into."

"I want to leave," Tyler stated. "I need to get out of here."

"You’ll be fine," John soothed, trying to take Tyler by the shoulders without touching his coveralls. "Come with me, Tyler."

Kelsey went to Detective Brennan, who was still talking with Bobby Dillon. "I need you to organize the collection of Tyler’s clothing and—" Kelsey stopped when she saw the color of Bobby Dillon’s eyes: green. Kelsey gestured for an officer to come over. "It was Bobby, right?" Kelsey asked.

Bobby nodded.

"We need to gather as much information as possible about the farm, what happened this morning, and everything else," Kelsey said.

"This is the third death, isn’t it?" Bobby asked.

"Officer, can you stay with Bobby for now? Take his statement and get everything he remembers from this morning. Can you stay with him until I get back?" Kelsey asked.

"Of course," the officer said. She led Bobby toward the farmhouse.

"Do you think he did it?" Detective Brennan asked.

"I don't know," Kelsey replied. "Tyler mentioned green eyes. He also mentioned cows. Can you find me any cattle or cow farms in the area and any dairy farms, and find out if Bobby Dillon worked at any of them recently? This is more than we have had to work on so far. I’ll check the body and return to the farmhouse."

"Alright," the detective said. She pointed toward the field. "Head that way."

Kelsey did as instructed. She walked through the soybean field, seeing the small forensic team fifty yards ahead between two rows of soybeans. The now familiar scarecrow or crucifixion was visible amongst them.

"Anything that helps?" Kelsey asked when she got there.

"Nothing so far," the forensic scientist said. "Looks like she was stabbed like the others, nails hammered through her hands, ropes used on her arms and legs. Nothing different compared to the first two murders. We won't know much more until we take the body back to the medical examiner’s office."

"Alright. Keep me updated on anything you find," Kelsey said.

"We will," the forensic scientist said.

Kelsey returned to the farmhouse and tracked down John.

"How is he doing?" Kelsey asked.

"He’s shaken, and I think he does blame himself for her death," John replied. "They are taking the clothes right now, and Robert Benson provided some clothes. He’s being given the day off. I spoke to him about the farm, and this was one of the farms that suffered from a bad crop last year. He is pretty angry about that, but he does have a solid alibi. He and his wife have a new baby, and they were both up half the night."

"Alright," Kelsey said. "We don't have anything yet from the body. It’s almost a carbon copy of the first two murders, except she was alive when she was found. I don't know what that means. The first victim was dead when she was nailed to the cross. The second died of blood loss on the cross. Now, we have a victim who was still alive when found. Is the killer getting sloppy?"

"We have to hope he is," John agreed.

"Hey, I just spoke with the officer taking Bobby Dillon’s statement," Detective Brenna said after rounding the corner. "Usually, he bikes or walks to this farm when he works here, and he walked this morning. Only this time, he wasn’t alone. His girlfriend was flying out to visit some family, so he had breakfast with her and walked her to the bus. It doesn’t seem like he would have had time to kill someone after that. Still, she is on a plane right now, so we won't get confirmation of that for a few hours."

"Okay, update me on that when you get something," Kelsey said. She turned to John. "Ronal Benson told us that Lisa Garret consulted with some other farmers in the area. Let’s find out who she worked with and what the results were."

CHAPTER TEN

Kelsey and John went to Lisa Garrett’s workplace while Detective Brennan went to inform Lisa’s parents of the tragedy. She worked for a company named Agsol, which helped farms to increase productivity. The main offices were a forty-minute drive from the Benson farm.

The building was nothing flashy: a brick building with a small sign above the door showing the company name. John parked the vehicle but didn't get out just yet.

"I’ve been thinking about the nails," he said to Kelsey. "In each victim, the nails used to hang the victim to the cross are old and rusty. He could have used new nails, but he chose to use old and rusty ones. Maybe he didn't want us to track down where the nails came from and couldn't risk buying them, but nails are a dime-a-dozen on farms. He could have used any nails, but he used the rusty ones. Why?"

"I’ve been thinking about that, too," Kelsey admitted. "I agree that he chose to use rusty nails, but I don't see their significance yet. They don't generally mean anything in the world or specific to this area of the world. All they are is old. All I can think of is there is some power in them being old."

"What power?" John asked.

"I don't know that either," Kelsey admitted. "Maybe there is some ritual in the killing. It could be that he wants them to look like scarecrows, and the nails in scarecrows become old and rusty over time." Kelsey shook her head. "Still, if he wanted them to resemble scarecrows, he could have done much more. He might want to make it look old if it's a crucifixion. Or, maybe he is doing something else by killing and displaying the victims, and the nails need to be old. Maybe it means nothing."

"Do you think it means nothing?" John asked.

"No, not yet," Kelsey said. "Only until I know it means nothing."

"But you're sure they are not being displayed as scarecrows."

"I am," Kelsey said. "Anyone who has worked remotely near a farm knows what a scarecrow looks like. There would be more than there was at each crime scene."

"So, they are crucifixions?" John asked.

"They look like it," Kelsey said. "We might find out more about this here. At least one person blamed Michael Torres on one side of the foolish farmer feud. Olivia Reeves was trying to prove that someone from the other side was to blame. All we know so far is that Lisa Garret was helping. If it turns out that she was a hindrance, then maybe the three were crucified because someone was angry at them for the damage they caused."

"And if not?" John asked.

"Then we are dealing with something else entirely."

John nodded. They finally got out of the car and headed for the office building. Thin poplar trees surrounded it on three sides, creating a natural boundary. The fourth side featured a parking lot that was a third full. They went straight to the main double doors and entered.

"Good morning," the young woman at the front desk said brightly. "How are you both today?"

Kelsey and John didn't return the good morning; it didn't feel like a particularly good morning with there being another death, and it would soon not be a good morning when the company found out one of their employees had been murdered. Instead, they showed their badges.

"We’d like to speak to whoever is in charge," Kelsey said.

"Oh, yes, of course," the receptionist said. "That would be Mark Hollis. I can call up right now."

Kelsey nodded.

The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed four digits. "Mr. Hollis, the police are here to see you… No, they didn't say… Yes, I'll send them straight up." She put the phone down and looked up at Kelsey and John. "You can go up; he is expecting you. Third floor, last office down the hallway at the end of the hallway."

"Thank you," Kelsey said.

They headed for the elevator and took it to the third floor. When the doors opened, they spotted Mark Hollis at the other end of the hallway, staying in his office's open doorway. He was portly, filling most of the doorway he stood in. A thin mustache grew on his upper lip, and his fingers were thick like sausages.

He waited for them to come to him, holding out his large hand when they arrived at his office.

"Mark Hollis," he told them.

"Special Agent Kelsey Hawk," Kelsey replied.

"Deputy Gallant," John added.

"What is this all about?" Mark asked. He was inquisitive and not defensive.

"Can we go into your office?" Kelsey asked.

Mark looked slightly wary of the request, but he invited them in. He closed the door behind them and rounded his small desk to fall into the oversized office chair, which sunk and creaked under his weight.

"What is this about?" he asked seriously.

"I’m sorry to inform you that Lisa Garrett was found dead this morning," Kelsey said.

"What?" Mark’s eyes widened, and he sat forward in his chair as if to cling to the desk. "I don't understand."

"Someone killed her," John added.

Mark shook his head, his brows furrows as he sought understanding. "She was just here," he muttered.

"Just here?" John asked. "When?"

Mark paused to compose himself and looked at Kelsey and John again. "Yesterday, last night. She was still working here when I left last night. Running projections that might help with future projects. I said goodbye to her."

"What time was that?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't understand," Mark continued. "I thought she was still here."

"Focus, Mr. Hollis," John ordered.

"No, yes, sorry," Mark said. "I left here around seven last night, and she was working in her office. I said goodbye to her on my way out. Then, when I arrived early this morning, maybe around five, her car was still there. I assumed she had worked through the night, which wasn’t unusual for Lisa, but I haven’t seen her this morning."

John looked at Kelsey and then back at Mark. "Do you have CCTV anywhere in or around the building?"

"Yes, a camera at the front door," Mark replied. "I'll get you the footage. Give me a second." Mark picked up the phone and dialed four numbers. "Oscar, I need the footage from the front camera from last night. Bring it up to my office immediately."

"What happened to her?" Mark asked.

"We’re investigating that," John said.

"Is it connected to the other murderers?" Mark asked.

"Do you know who she was working with recently?" Kelsey asked.

Mark paused again before answering. "I might know a couple of names off the top of my head, but I can get you a full list of everyone she was working with right now."

"We need to go further back," Kelsey told him. I want to know everyone she worked with over the past three years and whether she worked with any dairy or cattle farms."

Mark nodded, and he wrote everything down. "It will take some time to get all the files, but we will give you everything we have. Lisa was good at her job, and her clients were always more than satisfied. I never heard anyone say anything bad about Lisa. And everyone here loved having her around. I can ask—"

Mark stopped when the security guard reached his office. "Come in," Mark ordered. "You have the footage?"

"I’ll play it on your laptop," the security guard said. He hesitated momentarily until Mark turned the laptop and gestured for him to use it. Oscar plugged the USB stick into the port and tapped the icon when the automatic option appeared. He double-clicked the file, and the footage appeared on the screen.

"This is everything from yesterday evening through to this morning," Oscar said.

He ran the footage, increasing the speed to get through it quicker. He stopped and pulled it back when people came and went from the bundling. They watched Mr. Hollis leave precisely when he said, then more people, until it became a person here and there, and the sky darkened.

They couldn't account for everyone who worked in the company, but it didn't look like anyone who entered the building who did not leave it after. It could have been that someone else remained in the building with Lisa Garrett.

"There," Kelsey said.

The security guard stopped the footage a second later—they had all seen the flash. He brought it back, and they watched as a barely visible car passed in the background. Around fifteen minutes later, the car passed again, going back the way it had come.

"That has to be him," John said.

"Him?" Mark Hollis asked.

"Are there other ways in and out of the building?" Kelsey asked.

"Many," the security guard replied. "They are all locked."

"Make sure no one goes near them," Kelsey said.

"I’ll call for a team to come down and see if we can get any prints from the doors. He must have come in through the back and taken her out the same way."

"Who?" Mark asked.

John left the room, followed by the security guard as he returned downstairs to secure what might be a part of the crime scene.

"Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Lisa?" Kelsey asked.

"No one would," Mark said. She was well-loved around here and received only positive feedback from our clients. Let me…" Mark picked up the phone and dialed another four-digit number. Stephanie, can you come in here for a moment?"

Mark replaced the phone, and they waited. Less than a minute later, a young woman knocked on the open office door and entered.

"Stephanie, this is Special Agent Kelsey Hawk," Mark said. "Something terrible has happened."

"What?" Stephanie asked, already preparing for the worst.

"Lisa Garret was killed," Kelsey said, unable to soften the blow. "Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt her?"

"Dead?" Stephanie covered her mouth with her hand. "She can't be."

"Did she have any enemies?" Kelsey pushed.

Stephanie shook her head, her hand still over her mouth. She made her way to the chair beside Kelsey and slumped down into it. "Everyone loved her."

"Anyone unsatisfied with the services she provided?" Kelsey asked.

"No, no one," Stephanie said. "She was often asked for through referrals, and—"

"What?" Kelsey asked.

"I’m sure it was nothing, but she did mention…" She looked at Mark.

"Say whatever you need to say," Mark assured.

"She was having problems with AgriTech," Stephanie replied. "They are a big deal around here, but Lisa was not on good terms with them, and she mentioned a while back that their CEO was getting involved in her business. He contacted her several times at the office, and she got so angry with him. He was trying to push her around."

"She didn’t mention this to me," Mark said.

"She wanted to deal with it herself," Stephanie said. "I’m sure she would have come to you if it had gone on any longer, but it…" Stephanie placed her head in her hands as she started to cry.

When John returned to the office, he said, "The team is on their way. Do you want to go down there and check the doors?"

"Leave that to the team," Kelsey said. "We have somewhere else to be."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Kelsey and John went straight from Agsol to AgriTech Solutions headquarters. The farm equipment and crop solution supplier was outside town but not far from the consulting firm. It was part of the wider commercial farming area, and the two law enforcement officers reached the business fifteen minutes after leaving the previous one without calling ahead.

The building looked much the same as the one they had just come from. It was a nondescript brick building with windows evenly spread across the front and a small sign with the business's name above the door. There is a parking lot out front, but no trees surrounding the building.

When they entered, they found a young woman operating the front desk, who was as cheerful as the previous one.

"Good afternoon," the woman said. "How might we service your needs today?"

Once again, Kelsey and John showed their identification.

"We were told we could find your CEO here," Kelsey said.

The receptionist looked at them weirdly as if they had just asked for a meeting with the President of the country.

"You’re here to speak with our CEO?" the receptionist asked.

"That’s correct," Kelsey said with a smile.

"I… I don't know if that will be possible," the receptionist replied.

"And why would that be?" John asked.

"Well, he doesn’t meet with people here, and certainly not people who walk in off the street. Do you have an appointment?"

"I’m an FBI agent," Kelsey said. "I'm sure he will see me."

"No, I don't think so," the receptionist replied. I can check his schedule and see if we can accommodate you, but he won't have time for you today."

"Okay," Kelsey said after taking a breath. "Here’s what we are going to do. You will call the CEO in his office, which is upstairs, right?"

The receptionist nodded.

"And you'll inform him that the FBI is here to speak with him," Kelsey continued. "Then, we will go up and speak to him."

The receptionist frowned, unsure how to continue. She looked afraid to reach for the phone but eventually relented. She nodded slowly and dialed the number.

"Um, hello, Mr. Blackwell. I'm extremely sorry to bother you, but an FBI agent down here would like to speak with you… Yes, I did tell her that, but she made me call your office directly… Yes, I'll let her know. Thank you, Mr. Blackwell, and I apologize again for the disturbance,"

The receptionist smiled and put the phone down. She sighed in relief and looked up at Kelsey and John. "He asked me to schedule you an appointment for next week."

Kelsey laughed and shook her head. "Next week?" She looked at the receptionist’s nametag. "Melinda, I understand you're doing your job, but anyone obstructing our investigation will be detained. So, how about you tell us exactly where Mr. Blackwell’s office is, and we will take care of the rest. You can inform him that we barged past, but not until we have spoken to him. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Melinda looked like she might cry. She nodded at Kelsey. "The first floor. His office is to the right when you step out of the elevator and down the hall. His name is on the door. CEO: Victor Blackwell. Will you please tell him that I tried to stop you?"

"You've nothing to worry about," John said.

He and Kelsey took off, heading straight for the elevator. Kelsey looked back to ensure Miranda was not making a call upstairs.

When they exited the elevator, they took a quick right and headed down the hallway. The door was closed when they got to it. Kelsey didn't hesitate. She knocked, only out of habit, and then opened the door. Victor Blackwell was inside talking over his desk with another suited man.

"What the heck is this!" Victor shouted. "Get out!"

Kelsey held out her identification. "Special Agent Kelsey Hawk. We need to ask you a few questions, Mr. Blackwell."

"I’m going to kill her," Victor muttered. "I told you to make an appointment."

"You’re going to kill who?" John asked.

"Maybe I should leave," the other man said.

"No, stay where you are," Victor ordered.

"Mr. Blackwell, do we need to take you down to the station?" Kelsey asked.

"For what?" Victor spat. "If you want to talk with me, contact my lawyer. Now, get the heck out of my office, and don't come back."

"I think you should leave," John told the other man.

Victor pointed at him. "Don't move."

The suited man did not know what to do and almost vibrated as he decided between remaining where he was and leaving the office.

"Let’s make this easy," Kelsey said. "We only have a few questions."

"Yes, let’s make it easy, and you can leave here now before I sue both of you," Victor said. He rose from behind the desk and walked straight for Kelsey.

She could have taken a step back to de-escalate the situation, but she could see the bravado in his eyes. He would not talk to them, especially not with a colleague or client in his office. He had put up a front from the moment they walked in and would continue to do so until he got what he wanted. So, Kelsey stood her ground.

Victor reached her and pushed her by the shoulder, trying to remove her from his office physically. Kelsey let him push her back a little before pushing back.

"I really wish you hadn’t done that," Kelsey said. "Did you see that?" she asked John.

"I did, and we have a witness," John said, staring at the suited man.

"Mr. Blackwell, I have to detain you for assaulting an FBI agent. You have the right to remain silent, but anything—"

"Oh, come on!" Victor shouted. "Is this how cops do things?" You can't just barge in here and demand my time when you want it; I’m a busy—"

He stopped when John grabbed his arm. Kelsey continued to read him his rights.

Victor wrenched his arm from John and took a step back. Kelsey stepped in to help before the situation escalated too much. She took one arm while John took the other, and Victor struggled the entire time, fighting back against them. They finally managed to turn him and pin him to the desk, where John finally got the cuffs on him.

"Alright! Alright!" Victor shouted. "I’ll answer your damn questions. Get these things off of me."

"It’s a little too late for that," Kelsey said. "We asked you to cooperate, and you wouldn’t, so now, we will talk down at the station."

"You’re vermin," Victor shouted as he was led from his office. "Just wait until my lawyer hears about this. You won't know what hit you."

***

"I just got a call from Victor Blackwell’s lawyer, and he is not happy," Sheriff Cobb said.

Kelsey and John stared at the sheriff from their desks, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Is this what works where you come from?" the sheriff pushed. "You storm into an office and drag the CEO out in handcuffs?"

Kelsey and John continued to stare at the sheriff.

"There’s talk of him suing for assault," Sheriff Cobb said. "Do you know how many of my men and women have been sued for assault before you got here? None. That’s how many. Now, you have farmers in my holding cells, and you're arresting CEOs because they don't answer your questions immediately."

"How many serial killers did you have previous to this?" Kelsey asked. "How many dead bodies did you have pinned to crucifixes in the middle of fields before these three?"

The sheriff looked uncomfortable and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "We rely on good old-fashioned police work here, which has always done us just fine."

"And what good old-fashioned police work do you recommend for tracking a serial killer who is picking people at random?" Kelsey pushed. "If you've any advice on handling this operation, I'm all ears."

"You just love to hear yourself talk, don't you?" the sheriff replied. "This is my jurisdiction, and you don’t get to come in here and make a mess of things and then leave again. You're here to do a job, so how about you do it."

John couldn't help himself, and he stood up. Sheriff Cobb took an involuntary step back.

"We will do our jobs," John said. When we catch the killer and return home, we don't expect you to thank us for our work, but the area will be much safer because we are here."

Sheriff Cobb shook his head. "I've calls to make."

The sheriff left, and John sat back down, looking at Kelsey with his eyebrow raised.

"I don't know if he is belligerent or just scared," Kelsey told John. "He’s in way over his head with this case, and he knows it. He can't solve this one, and I think he’s worried we won't solve it either. I don't like the guy, but he’s local and feels responsible for what is happening. Still, it’s hard to cut him some slack when he acts like that."

"Really hard," John agreed. "Do you think we will get to talk to Victor Blackwell any time soon?"

"We will eventually," Kelsey said. "Maybe the lawyer will try and file some injunctions or try to force his release, but I can lean on some FBI colleagues to make sure that doesn't happens. It’s a war of attrition, and we are usually at a disadvantage, but he’ll want to be out of here as soon as possible, and the quickest way to achieve that is for him to talk with us."

"Why can't people just cooperate?" John asked. "It would be a lot easier for us and them."

"Maybe he has something to hide," Kelsey suggested. "Or maybe he wants everything done on his terms and didn't like us barging into his office."

"At least we have a mountain of paperwork to go through and try to make sense of," John said. "Detective Brennan sent us a list of all the dairy and cattle farms in the area, and there are a lot. We also have the client list of Lisa Garret over the past three years, so I’ll start by cross-referencing the two to see how many farms are on both lists."

"Any other names that stick out?" Kelsey asked.

"She consulted with Jacob Lawson two years ago, but it wasn’t a large job. Seven thousand dollars and three days on the farm. I can check in with him and see what she recommended. Maybe he blames her work for the bad harvest."

"Good," Kelsey said. "Hey, I was caught up in the rudeness, but did you catch the color of Victor Blackwell’s eyes?"

"I did," John sighed. "Brown."

Kelsey nodded. She returned to her files and investigated why Lisa Garret might have had trouble with AgriTech. She then took a drink of the coffee she had obtained from the employee kitchen and could taste the bitterness. She immediately assumed that Sheriff Cobb made the coffee.

"There’s some notes here," John said after a while. "Lisa Garret wrote about AgriTech being a big company but pretending to be a small one. What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Kelsey said.

"There’s also a note about fear-mongering to make sales," John added.

"I’ll see what I can find on this side," Kelsey told him.

Kelsey took another sip of bitter coffee and delved into the company history, business dealings, subsidiaries, and everything else in the public domain.

"I have something," Kelsey said after pouring over the files for an hour. "This might be what she was talking about."

"What is it?"

Kelsey rubbed her eyes as they became uncomfortable staring at the screen for so long. "If I'm reading this right, AgriTech is a large company that covers much of North Dakota and beyond, but they also operate several smaller subsidiaries that sell exactly the same thing, but they look like smaller, family-owned businesses."

"Not illegal, but dodgy at best," John said.

"One of their subsidiaries, ND-Ag, was the small company that sold the new pesticides and fertilizer to the Lawson farm."

"That is interesting," John said. "Frank Holloway blamed those chemicals for the poor yields. Jacob thought he was buying from a local company but was buying from AgriTech, possibly unknown to him."

"Do we still have Frank in holding?" Kelsey asked.

"We do. We know he didn't kill the third victim, but it could be multiple people working together unless you still don't think that."

"It’s all precise," Kelsey said. If it were multiple people, they would either do it together, which means Frank was missing from the murder this morning, or they are all working independently, which means there would be some variance. I don't think that’s the case. I still believe it is one person working alone. Did you find anything else from Lisa Garret’s files? Anyone who might wish her harm?"

"No. Her record is stellar. Everyone she works with praises her. I can look into it more, but I haven’t found anything that stands out. It doesn't look like she had any enemies except Victor Blackwell."

"Alright." Kelsey sighed, and then she thought of something that was either humorous or tragic. "I’ll be back in a second."

She got up from her desk and made her way to the holding cells. She looked through the bars to find Frank Holloway sitting on the hard bench. He looked like a shell of his former self.

"Frank, you blamed Jacob for the poor harvest. He bought from a small local company, but you bought your chemicals elsewhere. Where?"

"AgriTech," Frank said. "Always have, always will. They have always done the job."

Kelsey chuckled and shook her head. "It would seem the two of you have been buying the exact same chemicals sold by the same company but under different names."

"What?" Frank asked, confused.

"Take some time to think about that," Kelsey said. "You and Jacob are not so different."

Kelsey left him to think about it. She did not believe he was the one behind any of the murderers, but he was still involved in insurance fraud, and they had to decide what to do about that.

She was on her way back to her desk when she bumped into Sheriff Cobb.

"Well, it looks like your lucky day," the sheriff said. "Mr. Blackwell is ready to talk with you."

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Don't mess it up this time," Sheriff Cobb instructed Kelsey. "He’s brought a lawyer in from the city, and we don't need any more threats of the department being sued."

"I’ll try my best to be nice to him," Kelsey said sarcastically.

"If not, your superiors will hear all about it," the sheriff warned.

"Don't worry," Kelsey said, "they’ve heard it all already."

Sheriff Cobb frowned at Kelsey as she walked away. Kelsey went back to the office and found John collecting some files. He stood up and looked at her when she got to him, and the look was unmistakable: let’s do this.

Kelsey grabbed some of her files, and they went to the interrogation room.

"Sheriff Cobb told me that a big lawyer from the city was here," John said. "He looked pretty worried about that."

"Did he tell you not to mess up the interview, or was that just for me?" Kelsey asked.

John smiled. "I think that was just for you. He obviously doesn’t know you're best equipped to deal with big-city lawyers. I’m just along for the ride."

"No one I'd rather have at my side."

Kelsey’s phone vibrated, and she checked it before they went into the interview room.

It’s almost time. You've behaved yourself so far. We will contact you when you're back in Winchburgh.

Her jaw tightened. With John standing directly before her, she tried not to act too quickly or slowly, but she tilted the phone a little to ensure he would not see it. Slowly, she put the phone back in her pocket and finally looked at John, trying to control her breathing.

John smiled at her as if there were no cares in the world, and she felt calm. With John’s support, she felt safe and secure even when she was not. It made her feel even worse that she had not told him.

The two stared at each other outside the interview room until the spell was broken by the knowledge that they had a case to work on. John knocked this time and opened the door.

The lawyer sitting beside Victor Blackwell looked better presented and was much more expensive than the lawyer Frank Holloway had hired. He conferred quietly with his client, not leaning in and whispering in his ear.

Kelsey and John approached the desk and sat down opposite Victor and his lawyer. Both actively ignored them as if they had not noticed them enter. Kelsey knew that Victor was a man who was used to being in control—he was doing so by not saying a thing to them.

He was also disgruntled at being brought into the station and vented his frustration by not addressing Kelsey or John as they sat.

If you hope to provoke a reaction from me, you'll be waiting a very long time. You're the one who wants to leave, and I can wait all day for you to speak.

Finally, the lawyer spoke. "My client is willing to cooperate with your investigation but will not talk about his company. If we are satisfied with the interview's outcome, we will not pursue charges against the department."

"Which department is that?" Kelsey asked. "The Sheriff’s Office here or the FBI?"

The lawyer rolled his eyes. "You manhandled my client and bent him over a desk in front of a very important business partner. We are not only talking about mental and emotional stress but also loss of earnings."

"I manhandled him?" Kelsey asked, looking directly at Victor.

"You know what you did," the lawyer said.

"Listen, I’m not getting into this with either of you. I’m sure you've already spoken to the business associate, and he is so scared of and reliant on Mr. Blackwell that he will say whatever you tell him to say. And it comes down to your word against ours, so feel free to do what you must if the interview is not to your satisfaction. However, we are in the midst of a triple homicide investigation, and there will be more murders if we don't find out who is behind them. So, if we are satisfied with the outcome of the interview, we will let your client leave the building. If not, we can hold him for forty-eight hours while we investigate further."

"Special Agent Hawk, and are you insinuating that I coerced an eyewitness to lie on behalf of my client?" the lawyer asked.

"Are you stating on the record that the eyewitness is telling the complete truth and are willing to state the same in court at the threat of perjuring themselves?" Kelsey replied.

"Okay, we can shut this interview down right now," the lawyer said.

"Is that how you wish to proceed, Mr. Blackwell?" Kelsey asked.

"My client doesn’t need to say anything," the lawyer said.

"No, but he wants to," Kelsey replied. "He certainly had a lot to say back in his office. If you'd like to talk through this some more, we can leave you alone and get a warrant to search his office and obtain financial records, but I'd rather ask him about his connection with a murdered woman."

The lawyer rolled his eyes again. "Don't act like you can strong-arm my client into answering any questions, and don't try to scare him into it by intimating that he had anything to do with any murders. From the moment you walked into Mr. Blackwell’s office, you've attacked him verbally and physically, and I won't stand for it."

"What will you stand for?" Kelsey replied. "We were informed that your client was ready to be interviewed, so there must be some questions your client is willing to answer."

"He would be willing to answer them if you weren’t so brash and accusatory," the lawyer said.

"Perfect," Kelsey stated. "I promise to be on my best behavior and extend Mr. Blackwell the courtesy and respect he deserves, and all I hope for in return is honesty. I’m glad we got to the crux of the matter and can proceed."

The lawyer glanced at his client and back at Kelsey.

"So, we can proceed with some questions for Mr. Blackwell?" Kelsey asked.

The lawyer acted like he was trying to find a way to delay the questioning further, but he was all out.

"He will answer questions pertaining to the investigation, but we will shut it down as soon as you start from that or insult him," the lawyer said.

"Wonderful," Kelsey replied. "Mr. Blackwell, do you know Lisa Garret?"

Victor looked bored to be there. "I do."

"What is your relationship with Miss Garret?" Kelsey pushed.

"I don't have one," was the reply.

"But you knew her," John said. "I believe that is what the question was getting at."

"It was not the question, though, was it?" Victor asked.

"You're entirely right, Mr. Blackwell," Kelsey said. "I'll strive to be more clear in my questions. How did you know Miss Garret?"

"She called me a few times and sent several emails," Victor replied.

"Mr. Blackwell, you don't want to be here, and we don't want to be here, but we will be here indefinitely if you continue to answer questions like this. Can you please try and say what you want to say. What did you really think of Miss Garret."

"I didn't like her one bit," Victor said. She was like an annoying little mosquito that buzzed around you all day, every day. She thought she was on some crusade to expose my company when everything we do is completely legal and one hundred percent by the book."

"Does that include pretending that your subsidiaries are family-owned businesses so you can sell products to local farmers who might not buy from you?" John asked.

"We are not discussing Mr. Blackwell’s business," the lawyer said.

"That is what Miss Garret confronted you on, though, wasn’t it?" Kelsey probed.

"We don't claim any of our subsidiaries are family-owned," Victor said. "If that is the conclusion people want to draw, that is on them."

"What were the conclusions that Miss Garret drew?" Kelsey asked. "She gets quite a reaction from you."

"No more than anyone else, I presume," Victor dismissed.

"See, that’s where you're wrong," Kelsey said. "Everyone else who worked with her loved her. She helped a lot of farmers in the area and received overwhelmingly positive feedback. In our investigation so far, we have only found one person who is disgruntled with her, and that is you, Mr. Blackwell."

Kelsey didn't know if there was more to the relationship, but she decided to take a risk and push in the hope of getting something they didn't know yet.

"It wasn’t only the business practices, was it?" Kelsey said. "We’ve been through her notes and correspondence with her colleagues. It would have threatened your reputation, wouldn’t it?"

Victor breathed, and his nostrils flared. "If she told anyone, then it was defamation, and we will sue. I don't care if she’s dead. I spoke to her on the phone, and I was more than willing to provide our internal reports, but she wanted to attack us because we are a big company. All of our chemicals are safe."

"Then why was she so interested in proving they were not?" Kelsey asked, still trying to figure out where they were going.

"You'd have to ask her that, but you can't because she is dead. Our fertilizers are completely safe, and if she said otherwise to anyone, we will sue the company she worked for into bankruptcy."

"Is that the same fertilizer that you sold to local farms?" John asked. "The farms with the failed harvests last year?"

"Keep going," the lawyer warned. We can gladly add you and anyone else to the lawsuit if necessary."

"So, she investigated your business, and now she is dead," Kelsey said.

"If you want to ask the question and make the accusation, we can shut the interview down now," the lawyer said.

"Listen, am I glad she is dead?" Victor asked. "I couldn’t care less. She was a pest and nothing more. I didn't care about her when she was alive, and I don't care she is dead. I've far more important things to do than sit here and defend myself."

"Yet, you haven’t," Kelsey said. "You’ve mentioned that you don't care she is dead, but you haven’t said you didn’t do it."

"Alright—" the lawyer said, ready to shut it down.

"Where were you last night, Mr. Blackwell?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't need to tell you anything," Victor replied.

"We are done here," the lawyer said. "We are walking out of here."

"No," Kelsey said. "Give me an alibi, and you can leave the building. Until then, Mr. Blackwell stays right where he is."

The lawyer finally whispered in Victor’s ear, and Victor whispered back.

"I need some time with my client," the lawyer said.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Roger Fenton walked through the farmer’s market. He had been coming to the area more and more, working on something new that could help bolster the soil for years to come. He smiled at the stall workers and stopped here and there to talk with some of them. He was a good man who was doing good work.

Your work will live on, but you must be the next to die.

The man followed close behind, waving to some stall owners. He made sure to smile as he walked, blending in with the others at the farmer’s market, all the while keeping Roger Fenton in view.

The man looked down at his wether hands, rubbing them together to feel the roughness.

He felt someone touch him on the shoulder, and he turned to see who had accosted him. One of his recent worries was the man and woman who had come to town to aid in the investigation. He would have to watch out for them if he were to continue his work. He readied himself to run as he turned around, but it was only Megan, the woman who sold apples.

"Are you okay?" Megan asked.

"Yeah," the man said with a smile. "I was lost in my own world there for a moment. How are you, Megan?"

"Oh, you know," she said. "Everyone needs apples, right? We don't have as much choice as some previous years, but we make do."

"Yeah, we do."

"How are you doing lately?" Megan asked. "I heard you were having a tough time."

"Aren’t we all?" the man replied. He was conscious that Roger Fenton was getting away, and he needed to speak to him. With the FBI agent and Deputy Sheriff in town, he needed to speed up his work or all would be lost. "But I’m doing good. Listen, I can't stay and talk because there is somewhere I need to be, but we should catch up sometime."

"Yeah, that would be good." Megan quickly turned and grabbed an apple from her stand. She tossed it to him. "On the house."

"You're too kind," the man said.

He smiled, bit into the apple, and turned to pursue Roger Fenton again. The apple was delicious. It had come from one of the farms in the area and was infinitely better than anything that could be bought in-store. He searched fervently ahead without looking as if he were looking for anyone.

Thankfully, Roger Fenton had stopped at a honey stand up ahead and was buying some. The man steadied his breathing, consuming the rest of the apple as he slowly made his way closer to Roger.

The earth must be purified for what is to come.

He kept his eyes on Roger Fenton as he wound his way in and out of the crowd. He knew how to blend in, and most people knew him, so a smile here and there didn't seem suspicious. He replied succinctly to any greetings, moving past people as quickly as he could. He needed to speak to Roger Fenton but could not be seen talking to him.

None of you will know what I've done for you, but the good harvest will return.

The man finally spotted his opportunity. As the crowds thinned out, Roger Fenton moved off the pedestrianized street toward the bathrooms. The man followed him there and waited outside.

It was a risk. Some might see him interact with Roger, but if he was careful, it would look innocuous, and he was confident no one would see anything.

When Roger emerged from the bathrooms, the man walked, keeping pace with Roger but not walking immediately beside him.

"I know what you're doing for the community," the man said. "I appreciate all you do for us."

"I’m sorry, do I know you?" Roger asked.

The man laughed, trying to come across as personable as possible. "No, I don't believe so, but I've followed your work for the past year. If you can do what you claim you can do, then it will help all of the farmers around here, won't it?"

Roger was unsure, but his work was not a secret. "Yes, I believe it will. Are you a local farmer?"

"I wanted to talk to you privately," the man said. "I don't know who I can trust."

"What are you talking about?" Roger asked.

"I don’t want your work to fail," the man said. "I've a colleague I spoke to recently, and she informed me that a national company, AgriTech, is poisoning the soil through their fertilizers. Apparently, they don't want to recall the product and will slowly phase it out, but some damage has already been done."

"Are you serious?" Roger asked.

"Completely. I was told that there was a big coverup and no one would ever find out about it. I wanted to talk with you more because I thought you should know." He was successfully taking Roger from the crowds like a wolf cornering a weak lamb. "If you fail because of variables you know nothing about, then they could put the blame on you, and they come out looking like the good guys."

"It’s that serious?" Roger asked.

"It is," the man confirmed. Would you be willing to give me thirty minutes to go over what I know?"

Roger nodded. "Yeah, I want to hear about this. I’ve been working for years on this. When do you want to talk?"

"It has to be now," the man said. "If they catch wind of this, they could shut it all down. I don't want to risk being silenced or for them to come after you."

"Okay, where do you want to talk?" Roger asked.

"MY truck is right around the corner," the man said. "There’s a lot to go through, but I have it all at my place. We can go now, and I’ll drop you back here in an hour or so. Does that sound alright?"

Or I will have to take you by force.

Roger looked into the man’s green eyes and still wasn’t sure, but he had to take the risk.

"Okay, let’s go," Roger said.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"What do you make of that?" John asked when they were outside the interview room.

"He obviously pays his lawyer well, and I do not doubt that he will bring a case against us if he thinks we are pushing too hard. I knew he had something to hide, and I think we have found out what that is."

"The fertilizer," John said.

Kelsey nodded. "I don't know if we will find out the truth with him being so lawyered up, but Lisa Garrett thought she was into something. Was that enough to get her killed?"

John raises his eyebrows.

"It is, but would Victor Blackwell do it?" Kelsey asked. "I don't get the impression that he would dirty his hands and kill someone, and I don't know if he’s the type to pay someone to kill. If he did kill Lisa Garret, he also had a reason to kill Olivia Reeves and Michael Torres."

"Olivia was in town to examine the soil," John said. "Maybe Michael Torres uncovered something that led back to Victor."

"He would have told someone," Kelsey thought out loud. "If he was silencing people, do you think he would kill them and have them placed in fields to be found? This is a guy with a powerful lawyer who can protect him. He’s the type of guy who wants to make things go away quietly. Even if we can connect all three victims to him, I don't get the impression that he was behind the murders."

"Let’s see if they can conjure an alibi for us and go from there," John said.

"I'd love for him to go down for something, but I don't know if that happens," Kelsey replied.

"So, did you manage to get out of there without making the situation any worse?" Sheriff Cobb asked. He sounded more annoyed than usual.

"No." Kelsey was unable to hold her tongue. "He’s talking about suing your department now for putting us in a room with him. John took a swing at him before I could stop him."

"What?" Sheriff Cobb gasped.

"The bruise is barely noticeable," John claimed.

"Bruise?" Sheriff Cobb said, shaking his head.

"A bad joke," John replied.

Sheriff Cobb shook his head some more. "This is all on you. The FBI will deal with this. I knew it was a bad idea to have you here. Now, you have my officers talking about fairy magic and ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Kelsey furrowed her brow.

"That’s what you have them looking into," the sheriff said. "Are you breaking out a Ouija board next and contacting the victims for help next?" The sheriff turned more serious. "I want you to do the job and leave my town."

John clenched his fist. "It’s such a delight to work with you, Sheriff."

Sheriff Cobb glanced down at John’s fist and then tried to look him in the eyes. "Just stop making trouble."

John nodded, holding the sheriff’s gaze until he turned and walked away, not wanting to risk the same fate he thought had been doled out to Victor Blackwell.

"I don't know whether to antagonize him more or play nice," John said.

"Maybe we pushed it a little too far," Kelsey said. "He brings it on himself."

"What was that about magic and ghosts?" John asked.

"Let’s go find out."

They walked into the main office area, and as soon as they did, Detective Brennan looked up from her desk with eyes that told Kelsey the officer had something for them. She immediately went over.

"You have something for us?" Kelsey asked.

"I do, but I’m beaching worried about my job," the detective said. "I looked into the rusty nails like you said, but Sheriff Cobb wasn’t happy about it."

"Don't worry about him," Kelsey said. "Everything we look into helps the investigation whether he likes it or not. If he threatens your job, come straight to me."

The detective nodded.

"So, what did you find out about rusty nails?" Kelsey asked.

"A few things," Detective Brennan replied. "The first connection is to hoodoo and folk magic. Rusty nails are used in something called ‘witch bottles,’ which are protective charms. Then there is stuff in European folklore about rusty nails being hammered into trees or the ground to heal sickness or banish evil. They can also be an offering to spirits and deities. I can keep going if you like, but there’s a lot to look though."

"No, I think that’s enough for now," Kelsey said. "If we can't pinpoint one specific thing, then it could be anything. It might not be important."

"Officer Carlson spoke to Jacob Lawson earlier, and he only had good things to say about Lisa Garret. He remembered working with her and claimed that his crop yield improved twenty percent on her advisement. He doesn’t blame her at all for the crop failure. He might be lying about it, but Officer Carlson didn’t get the impression that was the case."

"Good," Kelsey said. "Get him to work the AgriTech angle. See if you can find out what farms were supplied by them and if they bought the same fertilizer. AgriTech has multiple subsidiaries, so look into every small company that supplies farms in the area. I don't know if this connects to the murders, but it might connect to the crop failure, and if it does, then Victor Blackwell doesn’t deserve to get away with what he’s done."

"I’ll work with him on that," Detective Brennan said.

"How about the other entries at Agsol?" John asked. "Were they able to find anything down there?"

"Yes," Detective Brennan replied. "One of the doors was forced, likely with a crowbar. They’ve taken multiple prints from the door, but we don't know yet if any are the killer’s. It will take some time to contact all the employees and get there prints so we can rule them out. Maybe the killer had his prints taken at some point, and we get a match."

"Let’s not get our hopes up," Kelsey replied.

"We finally managed to get in contact with Bobby Dillon’s girlfriend, and she confirmed that he was with her that morning. They had breakfast together, and he walked her to the bus. His alibi is solid."

"Okay, that’s also good," Kelsey said. "Sometimes, it’s not about who we think did it, but who we can rule out."

"Are we definitely ruling out Frank Holloway and Victor Blackwell?" John asked.

"I don't believe they did it, but they are both guilty of other crimes. We keep them both for now, but I've a feeling Victor’s lawyer will have him out of here soon," Kelsey said.

"We did get a hit on a dairy farm," Detective Brennan said. "It came up on Lisa Garret’s list of clients. Dairy Org Collective. Lisa Garret has worked with multiple dairy and livestock farms in the past, or her company has, but the owner of the dairy collective has a history with local law enforcement. He’s a self-described farming anarchist. Multiple arrests for illegal protesting, breach of the peace, and one count of being drunk and disorderly. In his youth, he was rumored to have committed arson, but it was never proven."

"Okay, we will head over there now and see what we can find," Kelsey said. "Keep working through Lisa’s client list and the local fair farms, and let us know if you find anything else."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The previous evening, there had not been time to drive to the dairy farm cooperative, so Kelsey and John returned to the hotel from the police station to do some work. They ate together but went to sleep in their separate rooms at the end of the night.

They were back in John’s truck and on their way to the farm,

"So?" John asked as he drove. "What do you make of the rusty nails? Do you think we are really dealing with fairies or witches or goblins?"

Kelsey smiled. "I hope not because I've heard they are tricky to capture. Some people even claim they are not real."

"Yeah, that would make it tricky," John admitted. "We’ve pretty much only arrested killers who are real."

John pushed on the accelerator as they hit the highway.

"I've been thinking about it, though," Kelsey admitted.

"And you've some amazing theory locked and loaded now?" John asked.

"Maybe," Kelsey admitted. "I think the rusty nails are important. I don't think they help us catch the killer because they could have come from anywhere, but I think it is part of a ritual or sacrifice."

"To what end?" John asked.

"I think the killer might be trying to help create a bountiful harvest this year, and they are sacrificing the victims to a deity or the land or something supernatural."

"I thought I wanted to hear this, but now I'm unsure. I don't like stuff like this," John admitted. "Killing someone out of anger or in passion, I get, even if it is morally horrible. But the stuff like this? It makes my skin crawl. Do you think someone is sacrificing people for a better harvest this year?"

"I don't know for sure, but it fits better than we thought previously," Kelsey said. "You were right about the nails. The killer could have used new nails, which would have worked just fine, but he chose rusty nails and had a reason to do that. That reason could be protection, payment, or something else mixed up with mythology and folklore."

"It still points toward a crucifixion," John noted.

"Yeah, it does, but not when you consider the people who have been killed."

"Because they fall on both sides of the farmer dispute?" John asked.

"No, not that," Kelsey said. "They are all good. They are all valuable to the farmers around here. If someone were angry at the bad harvests, they wouldn’t kill three people who could help. We’ve found one person who had a dispute with Lisa Garret. Everyone else loved her. Michael Torres might have argued with Frank Holloway, but we haven’t found anyone else who didn't like him. Maybe some people had a reason to be angry at Olivia Reeves, but she was only doing her job and hadn’t tested the soil yet."

"No one person was angry enough at all three to kill them," John said.

"Exactly," Kelsey agreed. "In fact, if you were to do a poll in the area, I bet most people would like and respect all three. When I combine that with the rusty nails and the crucifixes in the fields, I get the impression that whoever is behind the kills is choosing sacrifices that truly are sacrifices. Killing them hurts the area, but a sacrifice has to be worthy if you believe in that sort of thing."

John sighed. "Where does that leave us? Should we be checking in with people who could help the arms in the area? Does that include the farmers? It must if a farmhand was chosen."

"Anyone could be next," Kelsey said. "Only the killer knows who is next. Still, the one thing we know about the killer is that he knows the lay of the land. He understands who is important around here. He could be a farmer or a farm worker. He must be connected with a farm in some way."

"Like Benjamin Hawthorne, the self-proclaimed anarchist?" John asked.

"Perhaps," Kelsey said. "He farms organically, and his methods are seen as unorthodox, so maybe he believes in sacrifices, too. I’ll see if I can get a read on him when we talk to him. How far out are we?"

"About ten minutes," John said.

"I called Erica before going to bed last night," Kelsey said.

"How is she holding up?" John asked.

"She seems fine, but I asked her if she would go to Sherif Anderson’s place to stay for a while."

"Will she?" John asked. He indicated to come off the highway.

"I think so, but she got paranoid that something was wrong. I only wanted her to go there so she wouldn’t become paranoid that something was wrong. I don't know if it would have been better to say nothing."

"You're managing it the best you can," John said. "It’s much better for her to be a little paranoid that you're protecting her because she needs protecting than for what happened last time to happen again."

"I still haven’t painted the doorframe," Kelsey said.

"I can come around and do it for you if you want?"

"What? Because I'm a little woman who can't do anything for herself?"

John laughed. "Or maybe I want as many excuses as possible to spend more time with you."

"Well, maybe I can get on board with that." Kelsey sighed theatrically. "I guess you could paint my doorframe when you come over next."

John smiled as he turned off the secondary road and headed toward the farm. Five minutes later, they had to stop when they came to a metal gate blocking the way. Multiple signs were attached to it.

We Are A Collective.

The only law that applies here is the law of the land.

Turn back unless you come in peace.

Private Property.

It Takes A Community…

Kelsey and John read the signs and looked at each other.

"The only law is the law of the land," John said. "I don't like the sound of that. It feels like they don't believe the law applies to them, and they have their own rules like we’re traveling back to the Old West."

"I get the impression that they won't like having law enforcement on their farm," Kelsey added.

John got out of the truck and found the gate was not locked. He opened the latch and pushed it open. He returned to the vehicle, and they drove through, stopping to close the gate before they carried on.

When they arrived at the main farm, it looked more like a compound. Large concrete bollards prevented vehicles from approaching the main house, a tall brick building with what looked like lookout towers at the two front corners. Behind the main building, a large greenhouse and a large barn poked out.

The front of the building was adorned with flowerbeds, and children and women moved between them. They were looking at the black truck that had just arrived without looking directly at it. A moment later, two men exited the house. They walked with military precision.

"We need to be careful," John said. "If they believe the law doesn't apply here, they might try and throw us out. Do you get the feeling that this is a cult and Benjamin Hawthorne is the leader?"

"Yeah, I get that impression," Kelsey said.

John stopped the truck and got out first, followed by Kelsey.

"Can we help you?" one of the men called, a tight smile on his lips.

"We were told this was a dairy farm," John called back. "We thought we might buy some milk."

"Not for a long time," the man said, slowly approaching John and Kelsey. "We grow mainly vegetables. What are you? Police? You look like ex-military."

"You nailed it," John said. "You’re ex-military, too?"

"I am," the man said, not venturing anything else. The man beside him remained silent.

"What are you here for this time?" the man asked. "You don't have any jurisdiction here."

Kelsey watched them. She didn't think they were armed, but they couldn't take any chances.

"We wanted to speak to Benjamin Hawthorne," John said. "Have you seen him around?"

"Don't remember seeing him today," the man said. "I think he went into town. Do you have a search warrant?"

"Do we need one?" John asked.

Kelsey took in the immediate area during the stilted conversation. The women and children continued doing what they were doing while listening and watching the interaction. Some workers were around the side of the house, and there was subtle movement from one of the upstairs windows. Kelsey was sure Benjamin Hawthorne was watching them.

"We have nothing to hide here," the man said with a smile. "Still, I can't have you wandering around. We trial a lot of growing methods here, and we don't want the wrong eyes falling on our secrets. I’m sure you understand."

"You don't need to worry bout that," John said with a laugh. "I kill anything I try to grow."

"I’m sorry we couldn’t help you with your search, but feel free to return again."

"I need to use your bathroom," Kelsey said. She walked straight toward the building.

The two men stepped forward, and John stepped forward simultaneously, ready to wade in.

"You probably don't get a lot of FBI agents around these parts," Kelsey said as she walked toward the house. "I won't be a minute."

The two men stopped and looked at each other, unsure if she was telling the truth.

"You don't have jurisdiction here," the first man said. "You can't just walk into our farmhouse."

"It’s the law of the land, right?" Kelsey asked, not stopping. "What is the law here about going inside? Do you have to be a member of the commune? Is it a written law? If you show me the rules, I can adhere to them."

The two men didn't move, staring at Kelsey as she walked past them.

"You can't just—" the first man started.

"Where is it?" Kelsey asked. "Upstairs or down?"

The two men followed her, struggling to argue against her logic. John went with them.

"Good morning," Kelsey said to a woman holding a child.

She nodded and smiled at Kelsey as she passed.

"Ma’am, please stop," the first man said.

"If you've any grievances, I'm sure I can help," John said, placing a hand on each man’s chest. "She’s been desperate for the bathroom since we started out this morning. Long drive and all that."

It was all Kelsey needed to slip upstairs and discover if her hunch was correct. She took the stairs two at a time before the men decided to charge through John and come after her. She went starlight for the room, where she saw someone in the window. She pushed open the door and ducked to the side in case an attack came.

Someone sprinted from the room to the next one.

Kelsey ran parallel down the hallway, looking through the next open door to see him springing. There was only one more room at the end of the hall. She would have him cornered.

Kelsey drew her gun and pointed it into the room.

"Freeze—"

She didn’t have time to get anything else out. The man disappeared through a door that should not have been there. Kelsey followed and saw a staircase going down. She pointed the gun down the stairs and descended after it.

"Benjamin!" she shouted, sure she was chasing the farm owner.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and exited out the rear of the building. The man was sprinting across the grass toward a greenhouse.

"John!" Kelsey called. "He’s getting away."

Benjamin almost fell over himself when he changed direction, choosing not to enter the greenhouse. It might have been a dead end, or…

Kelsey glanced behind to see John running out the back door with his gun drawn.

"The greenhouse!" Kelsey shouted, pointing to where the man had almost gone. "Check it!"

Kelsey pursued the man across the grass toward the trees, gaining on him with every step. She didn't like that she had her gun drawn when there were children around, but she didn't know what to expect if she caught up with the man or if the two men from before would be trouble.

"Benjamin, stop!" Kelsey shouted before they got to the tree line. "Don’t make me do it, Benjamin!"

The man pushed even faster and then slowed to a stop, dropping to his knees and laughing.

"Benjamin Hawthorne! Kelsey called. "Are you Benjamin Hawthorne?"

"Who wants to know?" the man replied.

"Are we going to have a problem if I come over there and cuff you, Benjamin?" Kelsey asked.

"There’s no problem here," Benjamin replied. "We’re out here trying to live, and you can't stand that, can you?"

Kelsey walked over, the gun trained on him.

"Do you all see this!" Benjamin called. "Do you see how they treat us!"

"Hands behind your back," Kelsey ordered.

Benjamin did as he was told. Kelsey took out her cuffs and put the gun away. She, too, his left wrist, and he put up no fight. She cuffed him without using any force.

"Hey!" John called for the greenhouse door. "I think I know why he ran."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Another?" Sheriff Cobb scoffed as John and Kelsey entered the station with Benjamin Hawthorne in cuffs. His eyes lit up when he saw who they were escorting. "Oh, it’s him."

"You’ve had run-ins with him before?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah, he’s been here a few times. Him or his people."

"People," Kelsey said to Benjamin. "I didn't know you had people, Benjamin."

"I don't have anyone," Benjamin said. "We all live and work together. What’s wrong with that."

"There’s nothing wrong with that," John stated. "What is troubling is the size of the cannabis patch you have in your greenhouse. That’s not what we are interested in right now, so we will let Sheriff Cobb deal with that."

"Cannabis patch?" the sheriff asked as Kelsey led Benjamin past. "I thought he had cows on the farm."

"He did once, apparently," John said. "You might want to take a team down there and see what you can find."

"And check into the bathrooms," Kelsey said. "I never did find one."

"Bathrooms," Sheriff Cobb muttered as Kelsey, John, and the suspect disappeared through the door leading to the holding cells and interview room.

"Okay, here is where we are at," Kelsey said to Benjamin. "Sheriff Cobb will soon descend on your farm, but if your men are ex-military and good at what they do, I'm sure there is some sort of clean-up operation going on right now. I’m happy to release you as soon as you've answered our questions, so I'm offering to take you straight to the interview room instead of the holding cells if that works for you, Benjamin."

"Hey!" Victor Blackwell called from his holding cell. "Let me out of this prison, and there won’t be consequences. My lawyer will have me out of here by the end of the day, but I’d rather we worked together."

Kelsey had tried to work with him, but he hadn’t wanted to. She ignored his pleas.

"So, what will it be, Benjamin?" Kelsey asked.

"You’re the one who dragged me here, and now you want to play nice?" Benjamin laughed. "I've been more than agreeable."

"You ran from us, Benjamin," John said.

"Ran from you? I don't know where you got that idea from?" Benjamin asked. "If you had knocked on the door and asked to speak to me, I'd have been more than happy to converse."

"The two men who came to greet us didn't seem to think you were home," Kelsey noted.

"They must have forgotten I was home. No, shall we go and talk, or will we stand here all day?" Benjamin asked.

Kelsey took Benjamin by the arm and led him to the interview room. Benjamin resembled Victor Blackwell in some ways. Both men liked to be in control, but they approached it in very different ways. Victor liked to strong-arm and bully, while Benjamin was more charismatic.

John opened the door to the interview room, and Kelsey led Benjamin over to the table and sat him down.

"Do you really think I'm a threat?" Benjamin asked.

"I was about to take the cuffs off, but maybe we leave them on for now," Kelsey said. She stared at Benjamin with her head cocked before she took out the key and unlocked the handcuffs.

Benjamin made a show of rubbing his wrists and smiled the entire time. "That’s much better. Now, what would you like to talk about?"

"Lisa Garret," Kelsey said.

"Lovely woman," Benjamin replied. "She helped us out with the dairy farm when we first got it off the ground. We made a killing with raw milk." Benjamin placed his hand to the side of his mouth as if telling a secret. "Not supposed to sell that, are you? Very attractive woman, too. We had a moment when she came to visit but had to be elsewhere, so we didn’t get to explore that."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Kelsey asked. She looked into his eyes. They were not green.

"Two years ago?" Benjamin guessed. "How is she doing."

Kelsey wondered if he was feigning ignorance or genuinely didn't know. "She’s dead."

"Oh," Benjamin said. "I didn't mean to talk about her that way. If I had known that, I wouldn’t have mentioned anything except for her professionalism. Is that why I'm here? Do you think I killed her?"

"Who said she was killed?" John asked.

Benjamin laughed again as if he had been told the funniest joke he had ever heard. "Come on. Do you bring people in to talk about other people who have died from natural causes? You have me in here asking me questions about Lisa, and you just told me she is dead. It’s not hard to put two and two together. If you're asking me if I killed her, the answer is no. Is that why the AgriTech CEO is in a holding cell?"

"What do you know about him?" Kelsey asked.

"I know not to buy from him," Benjamin replied. "He would sell his grandmother if it made him a profit. He deals with toxic chemicals that kill the earth, and most farming can be done with a little work ethic and not complicated machinery. He’s a modern-day snake oil salesman."

"What do you know about the chemical he sells?" John asked. "What makes you think they are toxic?"

"All chemicals are toxic," Benjamin replied. "You don’t need any chemicals. All you need is the right organic material to use as fertilizer and the right plants and trees to add nutrients back into the soil."

"Why do you think he killed Lisa Garret?" Kelsey asked.

"If he’s locked up in a cell, then you've something on him," Benjamin answered. "I don't know what he is capable of, but I know he’s pure evil. Wait, is this connected to the sacrifices?"

Kelsey stopped dead for a second before recovering and asking. "What sacrifices?"

"It wouldn’t have been Victor Blackwell, then," Benjamin noted. "If there’s one thing he thrives on, it’s selling people stuff they don't need for problems that don’t exist. He’s probably laughing right now at all the extra products the farmers are buying in a panic."

"Hey, what do you know about sacrifices?" Kelsey demanded.

"Only as much as the next person." Benjamin grinned. "Maybe I know more than the average person, but you must have thought about it."

"I did," Kelsey admitted. "What do you know about it?"

"It doesn't take a genius," Benjamin admitted. "We do the same thing on our farm." He held up his hands and gave a big smile. "We don't sacrifice people. We take some of our previous crop and give that back to the land, sometimes a burnt offering. I know people like yourself, and I’m talking about the natural skepticism that comes with being in law enforcement; I don't believe in that sort of thing, but I can give you years of evidence. Come down to the fa—maybe we can schedule some time next week, and you can see for yourselves the power of belief."

"Where were you yesterday morning and the evening before?" Kelsey asked Benjamin, needing to get back to the facts before she explored what she had already theorized.

"I don't know if you want to know," Benjamin said.

"Oh, we want to know," John replied.

"Well, let’s just say that I was engaged in a private meeting with some of the more virile men and women on the farm. We met all night, and our meeting went on for some time. I've many witnesses to my whereabouts on the farm if that is what you're asking."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. Benjamin was someone who could rub many people the wrong way but was charismatic to many. Kelsey grimaced, thinking that maybe ‘rubbed’ wasn’t the right choice of word where Hawthorne’s activities were concerned

"Okay, so you're sure these are sacrifices?" Kelsey asked.

"I’m not sure of anything," Benjamin said. "The only true knowledge I have is that I have no true knowledge. They look a lot like sacrifices, but that doesn't mean they are. And I can foresee your next question. No, I don't know who did it. Anyone with a basic knowledge of folklore would know about sacrifices, and ninety-nine percent of the populous is angry enough about last year to do whatever is needed this year to ensure the community's survival. I’ll give them that. They might not do things as they should be done when it comes to growing, but they get the community spirit right. Well, most of the time. They like to fight amongst themselves, too. It keeps things interesting."

"Is there anything you can tell us about what is happening?" Kelsey asked. "Anything out of the ordinary about the sacrifices?"

"Out of the ordinary?" Benjamin asked. "Seems to me that sacrificing people in the middle of fields is out of the ordinary enough."

"Anything that stands out? You're much more knowledgeable than us," Kelsey said, appealing to his ego.

"Either he is insane, or he thinks things are in really bad shape," Benjamin said. "If he knows about sacrifices, he would start small unless it’s too late for that."

"Start small?" Kelsey asked. "What would that be? Animals?"

"Maybe," Benjamin said. "We don't sacrifice animals, but we don't need to. We have a good relationship with the land, but you can go back in time to see evidence of animal sacrifices to bring bountiful harvests or rain. They’ve skipped that and gone straight to human sacrifices. That’s a last resort."

"Yeah, it’s a last resort," John stated. "I don’t know if I'd rather we were dealing with someone insane or someone killing as a last resort. To go from nothing to this is insane in itself."

"Alright," Kelsey said. They could go around and around for hours talking about sacrifices and mythology. "We will check into your alibi, Benjamin. Until then, make yourself comfortable in one of our holding cells."

Kelsey and John left the room to find an officer to take Benjamin to a holding cell. Detective Brennan was waiting for them outside the room.

"Can you place Benjamin Hawthorne in one of the holding cells," Kelsey said.

"We had a report of a missing person," Detective Brennan replied. "I normally wouldn’t bother you with something like this, but you talked about people who could help being targeted."

"Who’s missing?" Kelsey asked.

"Roger Fenton," Detective Brennan said. "He’s a soil scientist and was last seen at the farmer’s market. His truck is still there, but there is no sign of him."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"All we know about him is that he came down from Canada recently and is a soil scientist," Kelsey said. "I really hope he’s off drunk somewhere and we pick him up later today, or he wanders home, but he fits the bill. Everything tells me that he is our next victim."

"So, what do we do?" John asked as he drove to the farmer’s market. "This is new territory. There’s a chance he is still alive and being held somewhere."

"No body has been found. No sacrifices reported," Kelsey said. "If the killer took Roger, he needs to see the plan through. He will kill him and put him on a cross. We just need to figure out where."

"There are thirty farms in the area, and that is the immediate area," John said. "The killer could be anywhere."

"Let me think," Kelsey said. She took out her phone and called Jacob Lawson.

The phone rang twice before Jacob answered. "Hello?"

"Mr. Lawson, this is Special Agent Hawk. Your crops failed last year. How are they fairing this year?" Kelsey asked.

"They… it’s not looking so good. If we can get some more rain and if this new fertilizer works as well as the tests show, then we might be fine, but… it’s not looking good."

"I’m sorry to hear that," Kelsey said. "Do you know much about the other farms where bodies were discovered? How are they doing this year?"

"I don't know for sure, but Roger and I've spoken a few times, and it’s touch and go over there, too," Jacob replied.

"Alright, thank you," Kelsey said. "That’s all I need to know right now, but I'll have someone contact you to discuss some other things."

"Alright," Jacob said. "None of us want this. None of us."

"I know," Kelsey said before hanging up.

That’s not strictly true. One of you wants this. We only have to figure out who.

Kelsey dialed the station next. Officer Jenson answered, and Kelsey felt thankful it wasn’t the Sheriff. Kelsey didn’t know the officer well, but she felt like one of the better officers at the station.

"Officer Jenson, I have a lot for you to coordinate," Kelsey said.

"What do you need?"  Officer Jenson asked.

"I want you to call around all the farms in the area. Find out which farms are having a tough time this year. I’ve already confirmed that the Lawson and Benson farms are struggling but call them anyway to double-check. Make sure that you inform them that transparency is critical. If my theory is correct, the killer targets farms that are struggling this year to prevent the same thing from happening as last year. When you've a list of farms, we need to get officers down to them if we can. The killer might have his next victim, and if he does, he will sacrifice him on one of those farms."

"Sheriff Cobb won’t like that,"  Officer Jenson said. "What if I have to send everyone to a farm? Is there not another option?"

"I had thought about that, but we can't risk tipping off the killer. We still don't know if the killer is one of the farmers, and if we tell the farmers to protect their land, they suddenly get itchy trigger fingers, and we don't need any being shot mistakenly. We need one officer per farm to keep an eye on them if our numbers allow it. I'll talk with Sherif Cobb."

"Okay, I’ll see what we can do,"  Officer Jenson said. "We might have to call in people from the next county, but I'm sure they will be willing to help."

"The other thing I need you to do is cross-reference all the failing farms from last year along with the ones from this year with products used from AgriTech and their subsidiaries. We need to know if their fertilizer is to blame for the yields last year."

"We made a start in that and will continue working through the data. Anything else?" the officer asked.

"Yeah, um, can you ask any of the farmers you call if there have been animal sacrifices on their farm."

"Animal sacrifices?"  Officer Jenson asked.

"I know it sounds strange, but ask them about any sacrifices of any sort," Kelsey said. "Maybe last year when the crops were failing. The killer might have started small and moved on since then."

"Yeah, okay," Officer Jenson said.

"Thank you," Kelsey replied.

When they arrived at the farmer’s market, Detective Brennan was waiting for them.

"Are you thinking this is our guy?" she asked when Kelsey got out of the truck.

"I really hope not," Kelsey said. "What do you have so far?"

"I just got back from talking with his sister," the detective said.

"What did she have to say?" Kelsey asked.

"They have been in town for a week," Detective Brennan relayed. "They moved down here from Manitoba for an extended trip to talk with some farmers. He’s an agricultural scientist working on a soil rejuvenation project, and it’s gained some traction up in Canada, and he wanted to run some tests down here. I don't understand how it works, but his sister claims that it will change how soil is tilled after each harvest season and how nutrients and fertilizers are added. It sounds like they wouldn’t change much, but it can make a big difference. She mentioned something about nitrogen and phosphorous, but I don't know if that was important."

"Do you know the farms they have visited since being down here?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah, I've a list. I can email it to you."

"Thanks," Kelsey said.

"How about the disappearance?" Kelsey asked. "What do we know about that?"

"He was seen by a couple of people here," Detective Brennan said. "Not many people know him, but they recognized him from the picture I showed them. He stopped at a few stalls to buy local produce. Some apples, honey, and a carved piece of birch. All three stall owners said that he was friendly and in a good mood."

"Where is his truck parked?" Kelsey asked.

Detective Brennan pointed. "Just around that corner. It was locked, but we forced our way in. Nothing out of the ordinary there. He would have parked there and walked through the market. We believe he walked the entire length of the market from the stalls he visited and was last seen down where the bathrooms are."

"Was he seen talking to anyone during his time at the market?" Kelsey asked.

"No one except for the stall owners where he purchased items."

"Okay, so he gets out of his truck, spends some time at the market, and sometime after that, he disappears. There’s no sign of a struggle that we can see so far, and there wouldn’t be at the market. If this is our killer, he would have lured him away from the market and taken him somewhere else. Maybe he convinced him in some way or got him far enough away from the crowds to drug or physically restrain him. Do we know who else was at the market?"

"Yeah, about half the town," Detective Brennan said. "And that’s the people who were seen. If the killer was here, he might have remained incognito. Or, he might have waited for Roger Fenton, where it was quiet, and picked him up there. We don't even know if Roger Fenton was taken by the killer."

"Anything else from the sister?" Kelsey asked. "Did Roger Fenton meet with anyone who wasn’t a farmer, or were there any other places he went."

"She mentioned a coffee place around the corner from the farmer’s market, but we spoke to them, and they didn't see him today. He might have been heading that way after the farmer’s market, but we cannot know."

"Maybe whoever took him knew. With everyone at the farmer’s market, the rest of the town would be quieter," Kelsey said. "Any luck with CCTV?"

"We need to find some first," the detective replied. There is not much crime in town, so there's no real reason to spend money on cameras and alarms. I'll keep you updated if we find anything."

"He won't be caught on camera," Kelsey said. "He’s abducted three, maybe four people, and then killed them in fields. I don't think we get him on camera now."

Detective Brennan left to continue canvassing the area with her officers. With a missing person, personnel would be stretched, and they might not be able to cover every potential new crime scene.

Kelsey took her phone from her pocket and dialed Sheriff Cobb’s personal number this time. It rang and rang for a while before it was finally answered.

"Do you have good news for me, or are you calling to talk through another theory?" the sheriff asked.

"I need you to work with us," Kelsey said. "This missing person is connected to the murders, I can feel it."

"We don't deal in feelings here," Sheriff Cobb said.

"All I'm asking is for you to help distribute personnel to the nearby farms. If the killer took Roger Fenton, then he plans to kill him. He will do that at one of the failing farms. If we stop the killer, we save a life and put an end to this. You were right about this being your jurisdiction. If you authorize this and we stop someone being nailed to a cross on a farm, then you become the hero."

There was silence on the other end of the line before, "I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Kelsey replied. It was the best she would get.

"Are we good?" John asked.

"As good as we can be," Kelsey said. "Sheriff Cobb will authorize sending men out to the farms. He might not like how we work, but we have brought in three people so far as suspects, and they were all hiding something. One had committed insurance fraud; one was manipulating the market to sell fertilizer that might be doing more harm than good, and a third had an illegal cannabis grow-op. He might not like us being around, but we’re uncovering crime right under his nose."

"That will cause him to dislike us even more," John noted.

Kelsey’s phone rang. It was Sheriff Cobb.

"Maybe he can hear us talking," Kelsey suggested.

"I’ll help with the canvassing," John said. "The killer was here at the market or somewhere close by when Roger Fenton was here."

Kelsey nodded and answered the phone, hoping it was not bad news.

"Sheriff?" she said.

"Victor Blackwell has provided an alibi," Sheriff Cobb said. "I, um, didn’t want to release him until I spoke to you."

Kelsey could hear how torturous it was to have to call her before making the decision.

"Is it airtight?" Kelsey asked.

"Looks like it," the sheriff replied. "He was with the wife of his operations manager. I believe he was the guy in his office when you arrested him. Victor has been engaged in an affair with the man’s wife for some time, and he knows nothing about it. We called her, and she confirmed it. She was embarrassed and mortified, but he spent the night with her, so he couldn’t have killed Lisa Garret."

"They are incredibly alike," Kelsey said. "Victor Blackwell and Benjamin Hawthorne."

"They are?" the sheriff asked.

"It doesn't matter," Kelsey said. "If you're happy releasing him, go for it. We still need to look into his fertilizer, but we don't need to hold him any longer. What about Frank Holloway? Have you decided what you want to do with him?"

"I want to let him go," Sheriff Cobb said. "I know the people around here, and—"

"You don't have to explain it to me," Kelsey said. "I trust your opinion on it. And Benjamin?"

"We’ll keep him until his alibi checks out," the sheriff said.

"Good," Kelsey said. "Thanks for checking in with me."

"This doesn't mean we are friends, you know," the sheriff claimed. "I’m doing my job how I know to do it. This is how we do things out here."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kelsey said.

She stuck her phone back in her pocket after the sheriff hung up.

Well, it’s a start. He might not like how I do things, but what’s new?

Kelsey went to work, joining John and Detective Brennan in canvassing the area.

A little over thirty-six hours later, Roger Fenton was found nailed to a crucifix.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"We’ve spoken to every farm in the area," John said as he walked through the tall grass with Kelsey. "Just under half the farms around here are supplied in some way by AgriTech, and around two-thirds of them used their new fertilizer. Half of them were failing, but a third of all the failing farms didn’t use AgriTech at all. It sounds like a complicated math puzzle."

"It does, but it tells us that the farmers don't stand to gain much by going after AgriTech," Kelsey said. "Perhaps they can prove the fertilizer was partly to blame for the failing crops, but Victor Blackwell will argue that they can't be a hundred percent to blame, and with the amount of money the company has, they can delay it in court for years."

"If the farmers come together," John suggested.

"They could, and it would even the playing field, but after last year and the possibility of failing again this year, not many will want to risk money in a losing fight."

"So AgriTech gets away with it?" John asked.

Kelsey shook her head. "I don't know. We don't know if they are to blame, even if we know that their business practices are suspect. Even if we knew they were the reason for the crop failures, proving it is a different matter entirely."

"I want to help them," John said. "We’ve been here for almost a week, and everyone is so nice around here, but you can feel it just underneath the surface. The farmers and everyone who works for them provide food to the entire country. And the thanks they get is a big company profiting from them and a serial killer who thinks he is helping by sacrificing people in fields."

"We can help with the latter, but I don't know about the former," Kelsey said.

Detective Brennan was waiting for them by the crucifix.

"It’s definitely him?" Kelsey asked.

"Yeah," the detective replied. "It’s Roger Fenton. Why all the way out here?"

Kelsey looked around. They were in the middle of nowhere, smack dab in the middle of a large field, but there were no crops planted. Long grass grew all around, untouched by human hands. If the sacrifice was meant to give back to the earth, a deity, or some spirit, it wasn’t offered for any one farm.

"The three previous farms were all failing, and now, this," John said.

"He knew we were onto him," Kelsey said. "We organized for the farms to be protected, and he knew that. He couldn’t risk his usual mode of operation."

Kelsey moved closer to the body on the cross. The forensic team was working around it, collecting samples from the ground before moving into the body. There was always a hope that the killer had left something behind, a clue. He hadn’t done so at the previous crime scenes, and it was unlikely he had left a clue at this one.

"How long has he been dead?" Kelsey asked.

"It’s hard to estimate accurately until we get him to the medical examiner’s office, but not long. He was killed sometime this morning."

"Who found him?" Kelsey asked Detective Brennan.

"A local guy out walking his dog." She pointed to the small hill in the distance. "There’s a small walking path up there. He takes it most mornings. Says he spotted what he thought was a scarecrow, and it wasn’t until he got home and spoke to his wife that she told him to call the police. She had heard about the murders and began to worry her husband had found another victim out in the middle of nowhere."

"Alright," Kelsey said. "We can assume he kept Roger Fenton somewhere before bringing him here. He would have planned a farm for him, but he couldn't risk following it through because he knew we were watching. Maybe he waited, hoping for an opening, but he couldn’t keep Roger stowed away somewhere without there being risks. The killer is connected to the farms, so he must work. He wouldn’t want to leave Roger Fenton with the risk of his victim escaping. If Roger was lured away, he saw the killer’s face. So, the killer waited, and when he didn't have the chance to dispose of the body in the intended way, he brought it out here. It wouldn’t be the same for him, but it’s better than nothing."

"Would he be close to here?" John asked.

"I think so," Kelsey agreed. "He lured Roger Fenton somewhere or took him by force. He must have somewhere to keep the victims and his materials. When he ran out of options, he would have brought the body here. There’s a walking path up on the hill, but not much else around here in terms of access. I don't know if he would risk driving Roger as far as possible before crucifying him. John, how far could you hike with materials and a bound victim?"

"Depends on how compliant the victim is," John said. "If the victim was on his feet and mobile, a few miles easy."

"He’s traveling at night," Kelsey said. "He wants to get out of the area before sunrise. He also wants to give himself time to prepare the spot. He might have dug the hole and put the wood out here first, but he wouldn’t risk leaving it long, especially in sunlight, or it might be spotted and investigated. I want a search of any abandoned buildings or homes in the area. I don't care how insignificant; I think he has somewhere around here where he works. A place to build the crosses and keep the victims."

"I’ll get on it," Detective Brennan said.

"If he’s smart, he will have deserted the place by now," Kelsey said. "Let’s hope he’s not smart."

***

Dr. Elena Rodriguez shifted her weight to her left foot as she opened the small valve to let water drip onto the grass and fern mixture planted in the small patch of soil embedded in the white table. The valve let the water through, but it was the computer hooked up to the water source that controlled how much water was let through at a time. A single drip every few minutes, and the experiment would continue over the next six weeks.

There had been no breakthrough yet, but it was coming. The progress was slow, but that was to be expected when dealing with vegetation. Scenarios and models could be run on the lab computer, but the true test was the growth, and nature didn't do things in a hurry.

Elena watched the first drop of water fall from the end of the spout and stretched her arms up in the air. It had been a long day in a sequence of long days, and there would only be more long days. Creating drought-resistant crops had been her life’s work; her greatest wish was to be around to see the impact she would have on the world.

She smiled to herself. Many would retire knowing they had benefited the world, but if she solved this problem, she would only move into the next. She could not rest until she had solved all the problems in the world.

The smile dropped from her face when she heard a clinking sound from the other room. Her mind immediately went to the series of murders in the South. These were troubling times. Elena was thankful that she lived far from the trouble. She could not imagine what the community was going through.

Still, she was on edge. She was miles from danger, but news of the murders had spread, and it felt a little too close for comfort.

"Hello?" Elena called as she walked to the next room. Although she had three degrees and a doctorate, she still thought the best course of action was to alert an intruder to her presence.

A scurry came from behind, then a hiss. Elan spun around to see a black cat fly past and toward the hallway. She placed a hand on her chest and let out a sigh of relief. The lab cat had been brought in to deal with any pests naturally. Having soil and vegetation attracted insects and other things: mice. Harvey had proven himself more than adept at catching any mice that found their way into the lab.

Elena bent down and picked up the plastic beaker that had been knocked over. She paced it back on the counter and turned around.

Elena screamed.

A hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her. She was one of the most intelligent people in the state, but she couldn't move. Her mind became blank, and her limbs weakened as the man pushed her back until she hit the wall. He placed a finger to his lips.

"I know there is no one here, but I'd rather you didn't do that again," he said.

Elena’s eyes were wide. She didn't say a word as he took his hand from her mouth.

"This is impressive," the man said, looking around. He didn't look full away, keeping Elena in his periphery.

Elena was still frozen on the spot, but her eyes moved around, searching for a weapon to use against him. All she could see were plastic beakers and tongs.

"You're doing great work here," the man said, turning back to her. "Let me ask you one thing. If you were to leave the lab and never return, would your work continue?"

Elena spend and closed her mouth like a fish, no sound made.

"I asked you a question," the man said calmly. "This is important, so please try and answer me."

She looked into his green eyes, trying to find some humanity there.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I've done all the groundwork. All that remains is to do the testing, but it takes patience."

"I know all about that," the man said. "I also know I'm not the only person in the world who has patience. I might be the only one with the resolve to do what is needed, but I'm not the only one with patience. If you don't come back here, someone else will step up. You're creating drought-resistant crops?"

Elena nodded. Her entire body shook. "What do you want with me?"

"You'll be my final sacrifice," he said. "I never wanted to come this far but was forced into it. If they had not come to town, I'd have finished my work before now. If you want to blame someone, you can blame her."

"Please, please don't kill me," Elena begged.

"I'm sorry," the man said. "Truly, I am. I wish I didn't have to do this, but it is my life’s work. I might not have realized it until recently, but it is all clear now. I'll—"

Elena barged past him and ran. She screamed at the top of her lungs, even though she knew no one else was in the lab. She reached the hallway and saw the cat toying with a mouse against the wall. She sprinted down the hallway toward the door. A hand fell on her shoulder and yanked her back.

The man pinned her to the wall and pushed his hand over her mouth again. "Don't do that again," he warned.

He removed his hand slowly.

"Please," Elena begged. "Please! I’ll do anything. I have money."

"I don't want money," the man scoffed. "I need to ensure the harvest. That is all I want."

Elena felt a sliver of hope. "That’s all I want, too! My work will do that for generations to come. I'll save farms from ruin."

"No." The man shook his head sadly. "I know the work you're doing, and it is admirable. It really is. That is why you must be the one to die. If I sacrifice you, it will appease the earth and cleanse the curse from our region. Don’t you see that?"

The man smiled, and his eyes danced about wildly.

"Please," Elena whimpered.

"You'll be the ultimate sacrifice, Dr. Rodriguez. You'll bring bountiful harvests for years to come. You're the key to everything. And your work will survive. Someone will carry it on. Don't you see, Dr. Rodriguez! You'll save us, and you'll save them all. It has always meant to be this way. That is why she came to town and drove me up here. It is all happening exactly as it should. We will do this together, Dr. Rodriguez."

"Please!" Elena burst into sobs as his grip tightened on her.

"Enough!" the man spat. "You'll return with me, and we will fix everything together."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Kelsey and John stood outside the large barn. It looked like it had not been used in over a decade, and the smaller buildings around it were all in ruin. There had once been a working farm where they stood, but all that remained now was its memory.

"It could be the place," Kelsey said. "Close enough to take Roger Fenton out to the field. What is it? A mile?"

"Yeah, about that," John said. "No vehicle, but there are tire marks." John crouched down and studied them. They were hard to make out. The earth was dry, so the tires did not leave much of an imprint, but someone had driven to the barn at some point."

Kelsey drew her gun. "I don't expect he’s in there, but let’s not take any chances."

John nodded and drew his gun also.

There was a large set of double doors on the front, but they didn't look functional. Much of the wood was warped and splintered, and one door hung at a slight angle against the other. The better option was the small door on the side of the building.

As Kelsey approached the building, she frowned. The problem was not that one door was at a slight angle but the rest of the building. The barn might have stood for decades, but it was making a slow, sideways descent to the ground.

"Let’s be careful," Sloane said. "The barn looks solid, but it could come down at any time. The first creak we hear, we get out of there."

John nodded. They made their way slowly toward the side door. John gestured with his hand, and Kelsey stepped forward to open the door. John stood on the other side of the door and waited. As soon as Kelsey pulled it open a little, John pointed his gun in. She pulled it fully open, and John stepped into the barn, singing the other way to check for anyone.

Kelsey stepped to the side and painted her gun in the opposite direction to John, covering as much area as possible. They moved into the barn together, swinging their guns to cover the entire interior.

A wall split the barn in half, but the wall only ran half the width of the barn. A table was situated against the wall. On the other side of the wall, a hayloft cut the barn in half horizontally. They could see into most of the barn but not up into the hayloft.

John gestured again: you stay here; I’m going up.

Kelsey nodded and covered him. She pointed her gun up toward the hayloft as he headed for the ladder. She moved back and forth to check down both sides of the wall. There were not many places to hide. If someone were in there, they were up the ladder.

Kelsey made sure to focus on the hayloft, aiming her gun up there as John reached the top. John took a moment before peeking his head over the top of the ladder and back down. He popped his head up again, his gun still in his hand. Then, he stepped up another couple of rungs.

"There’s nothing up here," he said. John holstered his weapon and climbed up into the hayloft.

Kelsey took a final look around and also holstered her weapon. Now that her gun was away, she could focus on her surroundings. Everything seemed to shrink in, and she knew this was where the killer had been. She looked around, seeing patterns in the dirt where someone had moved around and someone else had been dragged.

Wood was stacked by the far side of the barn, and she went over to it, a tremor ran through her heart when she saw the wood with nails sticking out. It was the same wood that had been used to build the crucifixes, and the nails sticking out were rusted orange.

"This is the place," Kelsey called. "This is where he hides out. It’s where he brought Roger Fenton."

John slung himself back over the edge of the hayloft and started back down the ladder.

Kelsey went to the desk on the other side of the partitioning wall. Rusted nails lay under the table, which was scratched up but had been used recently. Even though it was worn, it looked clean. Scratched into the table was a pentagon with a cross in the middle.

"Did he do that?" John asked. "What does it mean?"

"It could mean anything," Kelsey replied. She took out her phone and took a picture of it. "A pentagon," she muttered. "Five sides. Five points. The cross in the middle. Do you mean to sacrifice five people?"

Kelsey’s phone rang in her hand: Detective Brennan.

"Good timing," Kelsey said. "I need you to send a forensic team down to our location. I'll send you a ping as soon as we are done with the call. There is a road that runs by it. We can't stake out the barn. There might be DNA evidence, but we can have an officer stationed down the road in either direction. I don't know if he comes back to the barn, but if he does, we let him through and trap him."

"We’re getting close," the detective said. I might also have something for you."

"Go ahead," Kelsey said.

"We’ve been cross-referencing almost everything to find the common thread, and I’ve personally spoken to a dozen farmers. There’s a name that has started popping up."

"Who?" Kelsey asked.

"Dr. Maxwell Greene."

"Green?" Kelsey repeated.

"Greene," Detective Brennan said. "He worked closely with Jacob Lawson when he was having trouble on the farm, and he took soil samples to monitor levels. He’s also taken samples from the two other farms where bodies were found. You mentioned that we were looking for someone who knew the farms were having trouble. He would know which ones were doing badly and might have a second year of failed harvests."

"Send me his address, and we will pay him a visit when we are done here," Kelsey said.

"There was one other thing that made me think he might be connected," Detective Brennan said. "He used to work for AgriTech, but he was fired about three months ago. Apparently, he didn't go quietly and made all manner of threats on his way out."

"Okay, that does sound promising. I'll—" Kelsey stopped and stared at the patch of ground under the table and by the chair. "Hold on a second, Detective Brennan." She took the phone from her ear and got close to the ground.

"What do you see?" John asked.

"He tracked some dirt in here," Kelsey said. "That was what Frank Holloway was worried about, do you remember? The killer spent some time at this table. What if they tracked dirt here from a farm?"

John nodded in understanding.

Kelsey put the phone back to her ear. "Detective Brennan. Find someone who knows about the soil around here. Strange coincidence, a visit to Dr. Greene’s office is next on our list. There are some soil samples under the table in the barn. I want to know where the soil came from."

***

"Tyler Moss told us that Lisa Garret spoke about green eyes before she died," Kelsey said. "What if she was trying to identify her killer? Dr. Greene?"

"They both worked in similar fields," John said. "There’s a good chance they knew each other."

They stood outside the long building, a small portion of which Dr. Greene rented. After being fired by AgriTech, he started his own oil testing company but didn’t have many clients.

"If he left on bad terms with Victor Blackwell, his old boss would have the power to thwart any new ventures," Kelsey said.

"Which could lead to an anger at more than just the bad harvest," John agreed. "Is that enough to drive him to make sacrifices? He might be angry, but he’s not as invested as a farmer would be."

"There’s a lot of trauma around here after last year. Maybe he felt that and losing his job was the last straw," Kelsey said.

They entered the building together, and it felt a world away from AgriTech and the lab Lisa Garret had worked for. An older woman sat behind a table that was a makeshift reception desk. There was a small pot plant, a lamp that was not on, a phone, and a notebook. The woman looked up, surprised that someone had walked in.

"Yes?" she asked.

"We’re looking for Dr. Greene?" Kelsey said She took out her identification and showed it to the receptionist.

"Oh, are you looking for soil testing?" she asked.

"No, we only want to speak with him," Kelsey replied. "Is he in?"

The receptionist looked toward the door that led through from the front area.

"We won't take up any more of your time," John said. "We’ll go through now and talk with him."

"He doesn’t like to be disturbed," the receptionist said.

"Don't worry, we won't be long," John soothed.

The receptionist opened the book and then closed it. She picked up the phone but thought better of it and put it down again. Finally, she nodded at John and watched him go through the door.

"Don't move!"

Kelsey’s hand hovered by her side as she thought about reaching for her gun. She might have if she had not seen the source of the shout when they entered the large room. A man worked in the middle of the room; his hands blackened with dirt as he dug through a large tray of the earth with his bare hands.

"Dr. Greene?" Kelsey asked.

"I told you not to move!" Maxwell Greene shouted petulantly. "You bring that horrible, horrible aura in here with you."

"We only want to speak with you, Dr. Greene," Kelsey said. Her hand still hovered close to her gun even though the doctor was clearly not armed. There was a tension in the air that could be cut with a knife.

John sided along the wall, moving around to better tackle the doctor should he try something.

"Please!" Maxwell shouted rudely. He slapped the soil, sending clumps of earth flying up. "I asked you not to move!" He stared directly at the soil as he ranted. "You come in here to my lab, contaminating samples and going on about goodness knows what, and you won't give me the respect I deserve. Stop moving around in here!"

Kelsey looked at John and raised her hand to instruct him to stop moving. They didn't need to escalate the situation more than the doctor had escalated it on their entry.

"Dr. Greene, you're right," Kesley said. "We should have called ahead, but we are here now, and all we want is to ask you a few questions."

"Did he send you?" Maxwell demanded.

"Did who send us?" Kelsey asked as politely as possible.

"Don't give me that!" Maxwell shouted. "We all know he sent you. What do you want? To take my work again? To stifle it this time? I won't stop. I’m not going to stop."

"We are not here to take any work," Kelsey said. "Listen, I'm going to reach into my pocket. I’m an FBI agent. Let me take my badge out."

Kelsey reached toward her pocket to take her badge from her pocket. She kept her eyes on Dr. Greene, who glanced up at her and then grunted as he tipped the tray of soil upside down, spilling it all over the floor. He lunged to the side and ran his arm over the counter, tossing everything from it. Glass smashed and metal clattered. He ran to the other side of the room to break more things.

John darted after him, needing to subdue Dr. Greene before he hurt himself. Maxwell lunged at the counter, swinging his arms wildly. John grabbed him around the waist and pinned him to the counter. He moved his head left and right to avoid the swinging arms.

Kelsey rushed to join him. She grabbed one of Dr. Greene’s wrists and pulled it down by his side. John grabbed his other wrist and pulled it behind the doctor’s back. Maxwell lost all his energy and suddenly became docile.

"Linda!" he shouted, not as loudly as before. "Cancel my appointments. There’s somewhere I need to be."

CHAPTER TWENTY

"How has he been?" Kelsey asked John.

"Since we brought him in, he hasn’t said a word," John said. "Maybe there was a mix-up back at his lab, and we brought in the wrong guy."

Kelsey smiled. "It wasn’t much of a lab, was it? It looked like it was a kitchen at one point. I don't even know what he was doing in there. It looked like he was just playing in the dirt."

"Yeah, I don't know," John said. "I get the impression he’s fallen on hard times since being fired, and he has some beef with AgriTech. He thought we were sent by them, didn't he?"

"That’s the impression I got," Kelsey said. "At least he’s calmed down. That’ll make it easier to get some information from him."

"Do you have an initial feeling from him?" John asked.

"He certainly acted crazy when we entered his lab. That fits. The person who killed our four victims is not thinking straight. They are desperate, too. They need to fix the harvest. That fits with Dr. Greene. Yet, he was too crazy. When he started flipping things in his lab and breaking stuff, I immediately thought he was too irrational to have made the sacrifices."

"He’s calm now," John said. "Maybe it was all an act."

"If we get a chance to speak to him properly, we might see that in him," Kelsey said. "It didn't feel like an act in the lab, but that doesn't mean it wasn’t."

"Let’s see what he has to say." John opened the door, and before Kelsey could step in, Dr. Green shouted at them.

"You have to let me out of here!" Maxwell screamed. "You can't keep me locked up like this. He stole everything! Everything! Let me go!"

Kelsey wouldn’t have approached the table so easily if Maxwell was not handcuffed to it. The doctor shot up from his chair, a vein bulging in the side of his head as he struggled to get free. He shook the cuffs and tried to pull the chain free. If the metal table was not bolted to the ground, it would have been lifted.

John stood beside Kelsey, and the two of them watched Dr. Greene. In his current state, they could not do anything with him.

Dr. Green shook the chain, the handcuffs digging into his wrists. He glared at Kelsey. "He can't have it! Don’t you dare touch anything in my lab?" His hands were still dirty from the soil he had been touching.

Kelsey knew they were close to calling a medic in to subdue him, and if that happened, they would have to wait to speak with him.

"Victor Blackwell," Kelsey said, stepping closer to the table. She leaned forward and placed her hands on the table to bring her face close to Dr. Greene’s. He had brown eyes, not that it mattered. "He stole your work, didn’t he?"

Dr. Green strained against the handcuffs, pulling upward as he panted. Some saliva dripped from his bottom lip.

"He stole your work, and then he got rid of you," Kelsey said. "Is that what happened? Did he try to claim it was his and then let you go to stop you from talking? Is that what happened, Dr. Greene?"

Maxwell stared at Kelsey, and his eyes softened. He breathed quickly and audibly and then fell down into the chair. He tried to bring his hands to his face,  but the handcuffs stopped him. "He took it all from me."

Kelsey followed suit and sat down with him. "How about we start there? We don't know much about what happened, Dr. Greene. What did Victor Blackwell do to you?"

Maxwell shook his head. "I gave my life to that place. I gave them everything, and they took everything and then cast me out."

"What was that work?" Kelsey asked.

"The soil treatment," he whispered as if it were a big secret. "I discovered it, and he knew it would make a lot of money, but it was mine. I developed it, and he claimed it was the company's intellectual property, so he stole it from me. He shut me out of my own lab and put me to work behind a computer. I slaved for years to create the treatment, and he didn't even thank me. When I went to him with it, he only thought about how he could take it from me. I’m replicating it in my lab. I'll create it again, but better this time, and I'll get it to market before they can."

"So, they mean to sell it?" Kelsey asked.

"He’s rolling it out next year." Dr. Greene suddenly slammed his fist on the table, startling Kelsey and John. He rubbed his fist with his other hand. "He knows I’m close to the secret formula, and he will do anything he can to stop me." Dr. Greene shook his handcuffs again, struggling against them as if they might come away if he pulled on them hard enough. "This is why I'm here, isn’t it? He can't stop me, so he has me arrested."

"You’ve not been arrested," John said. "Not yet."

"You said you were FBI," Dr. Greene stammered at Kelsey. "You can investigate him and get my work back. He doesn't know anything about the science behind it. Go and retrieve the formulas and all my tests, and I'll talk you through it. You can ask him anything about it, and he won't know the answer to any of your questions. You can call in some backup and storm his office." Maxwell stared at Kelsey with wide, hopeful eyes.

Kelsey took a breath. "Let’s take a step back, okay? We didn't come down to your lab to arrest you, and we are not working with Victor Blackwell or anyone else at AgriTech. We don't have time to look into them right now, but if you answer our questions, I can pass on your concerns to someone else."

"Someone else," Maxwell spat. "I know exactly what that means. You won’t pass it on to anyone, will you? You want to get rid of me as soon as possible, you don't care about me or the work I'm doing! I’m trying to save everyone, and you can't even see that!"

"This is not working," John said.

"No, it’s not," Kelsey agreed. "Dr. Greene, can you give us your whereabouts over the past week?"

"The past week?" he scoffed. "Are you serious? Don't you know where I've been all week? I’ve been doing what needs to be done to save the harvest." He leaned forward a little and stared Kelsey straight in the eyes. "I’ve been getting my hands dirty."

Kelsey stared back at him, then glanced down at the doctor’s hands. They were blackened from the earth in his lab. "How have you been getting your hands dirty?"

Maxwell leaned back again and shook his hands, rattling the chain. He shook his hands a second time as if it should be obvious.

"Dr. Greene," Kelsey said slowly. "We need you to tell us what you've been doing over the past week. How have you got your hands dirty?"

"Look at them," Maxwell said.

"Where have you been over the past week?" Kelsey asked.

"In my lab!" he shouted. "Every minute of every day, trying to fix the soil. I’m so close!"

"You've been in your lab all of this past week?" Kelsey asked.

"I work and eat and sleep and finish the process." Dr. Greene tapped his fingers together. "I work, and work, and work."

"Dr. Greene," Kelsey said a little louder. "I need you to answer my question. Are you telling us you haven’t left your lab in a week? You haven’t stepped out at all to do anything else?"

"No!" he shouted, frustrated. "How many times do I have to say these things? I need to finish the work."

"Can anyone corroborate that?" Kelsey asked.

"Corroborate it?" he asked. "Why would I need that? My receptionist must have been around some of the time. When am I free to go? I must finish my work, and my lab is a mess!"

"Okay, we are done for now," Kesey said.

John nodded in agreement. They would get nothing from him.

Dr. Green looked up at them with something like hope in his eyes.

"Dr. Greene, I know you don't want to hear this, but we have to keep you here for now. Someone will soon return to escort you to a holding cell."

"Perhaps two officers," John suggested.

"What?" Dr. Greene gasped. "What for? I've work to do." His voice rose again. "Didn't you hear me," he shouted after them as they headed for the door. "I've work to do."

Kelsey and John exited the room, closing the door behind them. The interview had been frustrating, and Kelsey couldn't help but pity Dr. Greene.

"Does that give us anything?" John asked.

"A whole lot of nothing so far," Kelsey admitted. "He's clearly unhinged, but he still seems too unpredictable to have taken and killed four people. I’m sure he could hurt someone if they got in the way of his work, but I can't see him planning anything. And I don't believe it is all an act. He needs help, and we are not equipped to give that. We’ll keep him here for now and see if he will talk to us again when he is in a better frame of mind."

"I’ll talk to the receptionist at his lab and see if she can confirm when he was there and when he was not," John said.

"Yeah, that sounds good." Kelsey looked past John to Sheriff Cobb standing by the door.

John raised his eyebrows at Kelsey and went off to follow up with the receptionist. Kelsey walked starlight to the sheriff, standing before him.

"That was a lot of shouting," the sheriff said.

"If you want to help, do so," Kelsey said. If not, please let me do my job."

"I didn't say anything," Sheriff Cobb said.

"Find a free officer and take Dr. Greene to a holding cell," Kelsey ordered.

The sheriff looked at Kelsey and opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and nodded.

Kelsey watched him go and then rubbed her forehead and the bridge of her nose. She fell back against the wall and took a deep breath. None of this was her fault, but she could not help but feel she had failed. She had ordered the farms to be watched, knowing the killer was about to strike again, but it was not enough.

She could feel the killer out there, ready to claim his fifth victim. If the symbol in the barn was what she thought it was, there would be one more victim. The killer knew they were close, so it would likely come sooner rather than later. He might have already chosen his latest victim. She might already be dead.

Kelsey could not stand around feeling sorry for herself. If anyone was to find the killer, it was her. She knew what he was thinking, and she knew he was ready to strike. She only had to put it all together. They were looking for someone connected to the farms, someone invested in the community and the livelihood of the farmers. They knew which farms were suffering. There was a good chance they had green eyes and were linked to a dairy or cattle farm. That should have narrowed everything down, but it felt like they couldn't put it all together.

Kelsey pushed herself from the wall and went back into the main offices.

"Listen up, everyone," Kelsey said. "Our killer is still out there, and they are ready to kill again. We need to work around the clock until we bring him in. I want you all on the phones, calling the most important people in the area. Who can help these farms the most? Who can give the most input? Who can the farmers rely on? We work under the assumption that the killer is going after someone who gives positive contributions. They need a purposeful sacrifice. Get on the phone, and don't stop calling people. I want to know if anyone else is missing, and I want people warned. They are not to go anywhere alone until we tell them otherwise. I don't want to scaremonger, but someone will be killed if we don't do something about it."

The officers got to work and started calling around.

Detective Brennan got up from her desk and approached. "Special Agent, they are testing the soil as we speak, but it might take some time to pinpoint where it came from. They can't just match it to an area or a farm."

"Do they have anything so far?" Kelsey asked.

"High levels of nitrogen and low levels of phosphorous. The soil has a reddish tint to it, but that could come from anywhere. They might know more in the next few hours."

"Keep calling them and see if they find anything else," Kelsey said.

"I spoke to the farmers about any animal sacrifices over the past few years, but no one remembers anything. Jacob Lawson said there were a few squirrels found in his cornfield, but it was most likely bobcats."

"Alright, I’ll check back in with him and see if he remembers anything." Kelsey looked through the door to see Sheriff Cobb and another officer leading Maxwell Greene from the interview room.

Something drew her to him. She pushed through the door, and the three stopped when Kelsey stared at them.

"Dr. Greene, I have some soil with high nitrogen and low phosphorous. What’s your initial thoughts?"

"Ah, it’s probably from a cornfield. It could be from other crops, but that’s the most likely."

"A cornfield?" Kelsey asked. "You consulted for Jacob Lawson, didn't you? Checked his soil. What impression did you get from him when you were there?"

"He was an angry man," Maxwell said. "But a good man. Willing to do things right."

"Okay, thanks," Kelsey said in a daydream as she thought about it. "Thanks, Dr. Greene."

After the brief conversation, she went to find John.

"I’m going to the Lawson farm to talk to Jacob. There might have been animal sacrifices there, and I want to talk to him about it."

"You have that look in your eye," John said. "Did you find something?"

"Not yet, but it feels like I’m being drawn back there. If animals were sacrificed and then a person, that’s the farm the killer is most connected to. What if the killer tried to help the farm last year and then stepped it up this year?"

"So, we go back to the Lawson farm and see what we can find?" John asked.

"I know we can find something there," Kelsey replied. "I just know it."

"I know better than to discount your hunches," John said. "Let’s go."

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

John and Kelsey drove toward the Lawson farm.

"Do you think Jacob Lawson did it?" John asked.

"I don't know," Kelsey said. "It still doesn't fit with everything we know. He has an alibi for the Michael Torres murder, and at no point during any interviews with him did I think he was lying to us."

"You’re not a human lie detector," John reminded her. "People can and will lie to you, and you won't know it."

"I know," Kelsey replied. "Still, if given long enough with them, I can usually figure out their intentions. We’ve spoken to Jacob Lawson a few times, and I know he is angry and wants to help his farm, but would he go that far? Would he try and do the same for other farms in the area? I know they are a community around here, but surely you help your own farm first."

"So, if it is not Jacob Lawson, then who is it?" John asked.

"Someone connected to the farm," Kelsey said. "Someone with green eyes who has access to a dairy farm. Probably someone who has lived in the area for a long time and knows about sacrifices. I want to find out if the animal sacrifices were animal sacrifices or if they died some other way. We haven’t gotten any other hits from calling around, but they might have gone unnoticed if they were small animals."

"He might only have one victim left," John said as he turned onto the small road that led straight to the main farmhouse. "We got lucky with the last victim. He was forced to adapt his mode of operations, and we found his barn. He’s onto us now, and I don’t think he will make the same mistake this time. Maybe he’ll just leave things as they are and he won’t kill again."

"Maybe," Kelsey admitted, "But I don't think so. He has to see this through. I think—I hope—he has one more victim in mind. We have a jumble of clues, but they don't all match up. I know that if we keep looking at this, we can make it fit."

Kelsey’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she took it out to read the message. Her heart almost jumped up into her throat when she read it.

Expect a shipment in the next month. You'll look after our merchandise for two weeks.

Kelsey immediately looked out of the window as if they were being followed. No one was on the road except for them, and she tried to remain calm. She and John had not labeled their relationship, but it was a relationship, that much was certain. They were starting that relationship with a secret.

If she told John, if she told almost anyone, they would go after them. They would poke the bear, and Kelsey could not do anything to put Erica at risk. She would determine her options when they told her what the favor was and then act based on that. The worry was that it would not only be in favor.

"What is it?" John asked. "Have they found something?"

"What? No, nothing. It was from my doctor," Kelsey lied.

"Hopefully, nothing serious?" John asked with a large smile.

"No, just a reminder for my yearly physical." Kelsey turned to look out of the window as she grimaced.

She didn't know what to expect when they called in the favor. Did they want her to help them get someone released from prison? Fabricate evidence? Give them inside information? She might have been an FBI agent but was not on the best terms with some of her old bosses. She lived in a small town in North Dakota. She could not do much, and she did not have much sway.

They must have something in mind, and they know I'll do anything to protect my sister. That is a dangerous combination.

They pulled up at the farmhouse. It was the same farm and farmhouse, but the mood was different. Last time they’d arrived after the second body had been found, and the farmhands were loitering by the building while they waited for it to be removed. Jacob Lawson was frustrated by the halt to the work and devastated by the loss of his farmhand.

Kelsey could still remember his mood that morning. It was genuine. She was sure of that. She had spoken to him a few times. It was hard to stand up to scrutiny during multiple interviews and not slip up, not give her anything. Everyone they had interviewed had a reason to do it, but none of them felt capable of doing it. Still, Kelsey had been wrong in the past and was prepared to be wrong again.

"Back to the start," John said.

They exited the vehicle and saw Bobby Dillon staring at them off to the right. Kelsey waved to him, and he looked disgruntled. He shook his head and returned to filling sacks with grain. Kelsey had hoped he would come over, but they had to go to him.

"Hey, Bobby," Kelsey said. "Is Jacob Lawson around."

"Yeah, he’s around back," Bobby said quickly.

Kelsey hesitated. "Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing’s the matter," Bobby replied with evident frustration. "Always too much to do and never enough time. And I have to work in constant fear for my life. How many more of us will be killed before this ends? Will it end?"

Kelsey didn't have a satisfactory answer for him. "I’m as frustrated as you are, Bobby."

"No, you're not," Bobby said. "You get to leave whether you do anything or not. This is my home. This is a lot of people’s homes. What are we supposed to do? Up sticks and move somewhere else? I don't want to move somewhere else."

"No, you shouldn’t have to do that," Kelsey said. She still couldn't assure him that everything would be fine. "We’re doing all we can."

"I know, I know," Bobby said. He rubbed his head, smearing his forehead with dirt. "We all want this to be over." He sighed and then repeated. "Mr. Lawson is around the back."

"Thank you," Kelsey said. She felt sorry for the young man and for everyone working the farms, except for one person: the killer. One person was causing all the disruption, mistakenly thinking they were helping.

Kelsey and John rounded the house to find Jacob Lawson at the rear, tinkering with an engine. The engine had been lifted from a vehicle, but the vehicle was not there. The engine hung from a homemade winch.

"Mr. Lawson," John said.

John looked up from his work and grabbed the rag he had been using to wipe his hands. "I really hope you've some good news for us," he said.

"Not yet," Kelsey replied, becoming increasingly disheartened each time she had to tell someone they had not caught the killer yet.

"Then what can I do you for?" Jacob asked with the same weariness that seemed to plague everyone they spoke to recently.

"This might sound odd, but can we take another look at your cornfield," Kelsey said. "Specifically, the earth there?"

Jacob frowned for a second before he found acceptance. He stood up. "Desperate times call for desperate measures." He stretched his back and took off toward the cornfield.

Kelsey and John followed.

"What do you think is out there that you haven’t already found?" Jacob asked.

Kelsey had become increasingly worried that someone was lying to her. Whoever sacrificed the victims was connected to the farms, and she had become sure they were most connected to the Lawson farm. She didn't know if she could trust anyone, including Jacob Lawson. She might have interacted with the killer and not known it. She needed information, but if she gave the killer confirmation, then he could stay one step ahead.

He walks among us. He’s here somewhere, and he is ready to kill another.

"We found some earth," Kelsey said, deciding it was worth the risk to tell Lawson. "We believe the killer might have tracked it from a farm with a cornfield."

"That could be a dozen farms around here," Jacob said.

"We know," Kelsey replied. "I don't know if it gives me anything, but we have to look at everything. Mr. Lawson, have you ever kept cows here on your farm? For dairy or as livestock?"

"No, we’ve never had any livestock," Jacob confirmed. "We did have a couple of chickens for a year or two, layers just for ourselves."

"How about any farms close to yours?" Kelsey continued. "Do you ever hear cows from here?"

"I can't say I have," Jacob confirmed.

It bothered Kelsey. Lisa Garret had heard cows before she had been brought to the Lawson farm to be sacrificed. It was a good lead, but it had led nowhere.

Jacob stopped, bent down, and picked up a handful of earth. He held it out toward Kelsey. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Kelsey held out her hand, and Jason tipped the earth into hers. She ran the fingers of her other hand through it, bringing her head closer. "It looks similar," she said to John.

"As Mr. Lawson said, it could have come from a number of farms around here," John said.

"Mr. Lawson," Kelsey continued, "you spoke to one of our officers and told her that there had been some small animals found dead on your farm. Squirrels?"

"Yeah, I think it was squirrels," Jacob replied. "It was about a year ago. I don't really know much about it."

"Do you remember what they looked like?" Kelsey asked. "Do you think they were killed by other animals? Or could it have been a human?"

"Like I said, I don’t know much about it," Jacob said. "It was Bobby who found them. He mustn’t have thought much about it at the time. He maybe mentioned it in passing, but that was about it."

"Alright," Kelsey said, nodding. "How about any of your workers? Does anyone stick out as being more invested in the farm than anyone else?"

Jacob sighed, and his eyebrows dropped a little. "That would have been Michael Torres," he said. "He wasn’t inserted in the farm in a way that got him paid more if we did better, but he seemed to care more than anyone else."

That’s probably why he was killed. He was a worthy sacrifice for the farm.

"Anyone else who would be as invested as Michael Torres?" Kelsey asked.

Jacob thought about it for a second. "No one sticks out. Everyone who works on the farm is invested in their own way. If we don't do well, there is less work to go around. It’s not their farm, but they all want the farm to do well."

"Have you hired anyone new over the last year or let anyone go?" Kelsey asked.

"No," Jacob said. "The same rotation of farmhands we always use. There’s often a few seasonal workers around harvest, and we took on a couple of people for a few weeks last year, and I expect it will be the same this year."

"Any of those people stand out as being too invested in the farm for being seasonal workers?" John asked.

Jacob rubbed his face with the hand that had not held the earth. "Again, no one who sticks out."

"Alright," Kelsey said. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lawson. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please give us a call."

"I will," Jacob said.

"On our way out, we’ll speak again with Bobby, and then we'll leave you alone," Kelsey said.

Jacob nodded. He took a breath and looked toward the spot where Lisa Garret had been found. Kelsey and John left him there and walked back around to the front of the house.

"Does it feel like we are going around in circles?" John asked.

"Yeah, it does," Kelsey agreed. "But I think we are circling around the killer. He’s here somewhere; we just need to know where to look."

"Bobby!" John called as Bobby walked from the bag of seed that had just been tied.

Bobby turned and looked more frustrated. "I've work to do!"

"We need to speak to you again," John said.

"What is it?" Bobby huffed.

"You were the one who found the dead squirrels last year, weren’t you?" John asked.

"Yeah, I found them in the cornfield when we were planting," Bobby replied.

"Do you remember how they looked?" Kelsey asked.

"Dead," Bobby replied.

Kelsey smiled. "I know you've work to do, Bobby, but so do we. The quicker you answer our questions, the faster we can be out of your hair. Do you remember how they were killed?"

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. Likely coyotes or something. There were some birds pecking at them when I scooped them up with a shovel."

"They weren’t placed weirdly?" Kelsey asked. "Tied to a stake or anything."

"No, nothing like that," Bobby said.

"How about wounds?" Kelsey asked. "Do you remember if there were bites taken out of them? Maybe teeth marks on the necks? If coyotes killed them, it would have been for food, right?"

Bobby took some time to think about it. "I don't remember, to be honest. They weren’t eaten, I remember that. They had wounds at the neck, but I couldn’t tell you what killed them."

"How many were there?" Kelsey asked.

"I found three," Bobby said. "Scooped them up and tossed them in the garbage before they attracted more wildlife. That’s all I remember about it. Now, can I please get back to work?"

"Sure," Kelsey said.

Bobby nodded and walked away quickly.

"He’s in a rush to get away from us," John stated.

"He’s in a rush to get back to work," Kelsey corrected.

"He seems mighty invested in the farm," John said. "What if he’s lying about the squirrels because he’s the one who did it? They could have been attached to small crosses and stuck in the ground. If he lied about that, he could have lied about all of it."

"He could have," Kelsey said, thinking out loud. "He might have been forced to discover the body if he was working in that area."

"Wait, you're not talking about the squirrels anymore, are you?" John asked.

"If Bobby killed the squirrels and placed them in the field, he could have disposed of them after without anyone knowing. He was the one who discovered them, and from how he and Jacob spoke about it, he was alone when he discovered them. Why talk about finding them if you didn't have to?"

"So, who are you talking about?" John asked.

"Hey, Bobby!" Kelsey called as Bobby was about to enter the shed.

The young man turned and shook his head.

You look and sound much more invested than Jacob Lawson, even though it is his farm, but why?

"Bobby, why is there so much work for you today?" Kelsey asked.

"We’re short today," Bobby replied.

"Because Tyler didn't show up for work, right?" Kelsey continued.

"He called this morning to say he was sick," Bobby said.

Kelsey turned to John. "We need to get to Tyler’s house now. I think he has the last victim."

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

"Think about it," Kelsey said as John accelerated down the dirt road, leaving the farm in their dust. "He could have placed the squirrels last year and left them. Then, he does the same this year with Lisa Garret. Maybe he has to be in the same area as the body when he begins work, or maybe he wants to throw us off. He discovered the body, and we don't expect that the killer would put himself so close. I remember how shaken he looked when we spoke to him that morning, but if he is sacrificing them, he doesn’t do so lightly."

"He’s been right under our noses all this time?" John asked.

"If I'm right, yes," Kelsey replied. "He killed Lisa Garret, not because he wanted her dead or had any anger toward her. It would have been hard for him, and I believe he truly was shaken on the morning we found her. He must have known we were getting closer and wanted to throw us off."

"So, he lied about what Lisa Garret said before she died?" John asked.

"He must have," Kelsey replied. "If he’s the killer, he must have. Maybe she spoke to him before he killed her, but I don't believe what he said anymore. I think it was designed to throw us off more. He spoke about green eyes, and he has green eyes. It was a risky choice on the killer’s part, to drop in that clue about ‘green’, but it worked, because we dismissed him as a suspect. And the dairy farm?" I’ve been going crazy with that. Every time we look into another dairy farm, we come away with nothing. That’s exactly what he wanted. He sent us on a wild goose chase."

"What if we get to his house and we find him sick in bed?" John asked as he turned onto the highway and floored it.

Kelsey sighed. "Then we are back at square one." She rubbed her forehead. "It has to be. I can’t prove he did it, but if he has a fifth victim in mind, I know he has taken them already. We have to stop him before he kills again."

John nodded, saying nothing more. He pushed his truck faster and faster. They had received Tyler Moss’ address from Jacob. He lived on the outskirts of the town. Kelsey prayed they were not too late. They had found the barn he used, but he had not gone back there. They still had it staked out along with most of the farms. He would know where they were looking, and that meant had had to go where they were not looking.

Do you have her in your home, Tyler? Are you the killer?

Kelsey rubbed her fingers and thumbs as they drove the highway. If Tyler was the killer and had selected his last victim, he would kill them soon. Then, his work would be done.

Do you really believe in what you're doing? Do you believe this will help the harvest, or are you willing to try anything to help?

John and Kelsey looked at each other a couple of times as they drove, but neither said anything. They could both feel it. It was coming to an end. Kelsey did not dive into making assumptions without the needed evidence or her intuition telling her she was on the right track. Evidence got them convictions, and Kelsey’s intuition was second to none. They were both prepared for a fight when they got to Tyler Moss’ house.

John indicated and turned off the highway and into the town. The streets were quiet, but there were pedestrians about, so he slowed to just over the speed limit. Kelsey wanted to tell him to go faster but knew it put more people in danger. She was impatient now that she was unraveling the strands she had been pulling at for days. There was some relief to feel they were finally on the right track, but there was a black cloud hanging over them.

If they got there and they were just too late, Kelsey would always feel responsible. She already felt responsible that there had been two more deaths since they arrived for the first time at Jacob Lawson’s farm, but this was different. They had a real chance of stopping this fifth death. They only had to get to Tyler’s house quickly enough.

"There," John stated, pointing ahead. He stopped the truck a few houses away so they would not be seen until the last second.

John and Kelsey took out their guns and checked them before holstering them again.

"Let’s go," Kelsey ordered.

They exited the vehicle and ran to the house, scanning the area. As they got closer to the house, Kelsey scanned that, too.

It was a standalone, single-level abode with a large window on the front that presumably led into the living room. The front yard was well kept and threw was a small garden planted in the front, a mini farmland. Kelsey looked between the green sprouts sticking up to find a sacrifice of some sort, but she didn't see anything. She gazed through the front window as they ran up the garden path but saw no one.

When they arrived, John pounded on the door. Kelsey stepped to the side and looked through the front window, not caring about invading anyone’s privacy. The house looked and felt empty.

John knocked again, but there was no answer.

"We can't wait, can we?" he asked.

"No," Kelsey replied, giving him permission.

John stepped back and then lunged forward, kicking out his leg. His foot connected with the door, just below the lock. The wood surround creaked, and the door shifted. John took another step back and lunged forward a second time, connecting with his shoulder.

He burst through the door and, in one fluid motion, drew his gun and pointed it into the house. Kelsey was right behind him, holding her gun pointed past John. They moved as if someone was choreographing them.

"Tyler!" John shouted. "Tyler Moss!"

There was no answer.

"This is the police!" John shouted. "We are armed. Please make yourself known."

Again, no answer.

Kelsey and John split up, moving in different directions through the house. Everything was neat and tidy but looked lived in. There was no sign that Jacob had upped and left at any point, but there was also no sign that he was sick and at home.

Kelsey looked for any evidence that someone had been kept in the house. Everything pointed toward there being no crime and Tyler being innocent. Everything except her hunch and Tyler’s involvement pointed to why they hadn’t found the killer yet.

"Clear," John said when he saw Kelsey in the rear of the house. "I found the bedroom, and the bed is neatly made. If he is sick, he’s not recovering in bed."

"Get on the phone and find out what vehicle Tyler drives. I want an APB out for him and his vehicle," Kelsey said. "We need to figure out where he’s gone."

John nodded and pulled out his phone. Kelsey hollered her weapon and searched the hose again, looking for anything that might tell her where Tyler had gone. She found the bedroom John had spoken of. The bed was neatly made, and there were no tissues or medicine by it. The kitchen was clean, too.

When I’m sick, my place is a mess, and there are tissues everywhere.

She checked the garbage bins in each room and found nothing there. If he was sick, he wasn’t treating it at home.

Kelsey found John on the phone. "Have someone check in with the doctor in town. Maybe he’s gone there."

John nodded as he relayed the information.

Kelsey wandered through the house. She checked the bookshelf, looking for a book on sacrifices or anything similar, something to confirm her hunch had been right. She came up empty-handed at every turn. She remembered seeing a study when searching the house and returned there. She checked the map on the wall of the state, but nothing had been written on it.

She sat down at the desk and looked around the room. Then, she went through the drawers, not finding much in the first two, but the third turned up a folded sheet of paper that was so worn it almost fell apart when she unfolded it and placed it on the desktop.

"John!" she called. "John, you have to see this!"

John rushed into the room a moment later. "What did you find."

"Look," Kelsey said, nodding toward the map.

John bent over the desk. The map was old and showed farms in the area. Multiple farms were circled, and three of the circles had a large ‘X’ in them.

"Is that?" John asked.

"That’s the farms where we found the sacrifices," Kelsey said. "He could be tracking them for some reason, but this map is old and well-worn."

"We send someone out to each of the other farms," John said. "If he has his final victim, he will be heading to one of them."

"No, he won’t," Kelsey said. "He knew we were monitoring them, and that’s why he had to dispose of the fourth victim close to his barn. That’s why there is no fourth ‘X’ on here. We have to assume he knows we are still monitoring the farms. He didn't take the map with him. He’s not going to any of the farms on his map."

"So, where is he going?" John asked.

"I don't know yet," Kelsey said. "Somewhere close. He’ll want it to be close because he wants to sacrifice his victim to create a bountiful harvest. It will be in a field somewhere. Wait, he knows we are monitoring the farms that had poor harvests last year. There are still some farms that we are not watching."

"So, he’ll go to one of them," John added. "Except, it’s in broad daylight. There will be workers. He won't risk being seen, will he?"

"No, he won’t," Kelsey admitted. "He’ll get close. As close as possible without being seen. If he is with a victim, he will want to get it over with as quickly as possible. Everyone knows everyone in this town, and he’s possibly transporting a body. What farms are close to here?"

John unlocked his phone and looked at the map. He zoomed out and switched to satellite view to better see the farmland around. "There are a few farms close to here," John noted. "Three, by the looks of it. They are grouped closely. He could go to any of them."

Kelsey stared at the map. "Look, right there." She pointed to a dense green spot. "Those are trees right on the edge of the property line. If it were me, I'd head here. He can get close to the farm without being seen."

"Then that’s where we go," John said.

"I’ll call the station and get them to send officers to all three farms. We need to get everyone out looking for him," Kelsey said. "And, John? Once we get out of the main town, we go as fast as your truck will take us."

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

"He drives a black jeep," John said. "An older one. If we spot it on the road, I’ll do what I can to stop it or slow it down."

"Be careful," Kelsey said. "We don't know what he will do. Up until now, he’s been acting in the darkness. He believes in this quest, and he believes, rightly or wrongly, that killing these five people will help the harvest. I don't know if he will stop until he has killed the fifth victim."

"Then what?" John asked. "If we spot the vehicle, how do we stop him from killing her as soon as he spots us."

"We might have a chance if we can find them before he gets to his chosen spot," Kelsey said. "If we are not too late, he won't spill her blood in his vehicle if he can help it. He will want to sacrifice the victim properly and want to spill the blood on the earth. That is our best shot at stopping him. If we can find the black jeep and stay close until he stops, we might have a few seconds before he can get the victim out of the vehicle. If that’s the case, we take the shot."

When they reached the edge of town, John pressed hard on the accelerator, and the speedometer's dial slowly moved.

"Okay," John said. "What if he doesn’t see any other option than to kill her in his vehicle?"

"I don't want to think about that," Kelsey said. "We know he is unhinged. Yet, there is a method to his madness. He believes what he is doing is right but must know it is wrong. I don't believe he wants to kill his victim unnecessarily. If he’s trapped, he might try to use the victim as leverage. Killing will be his last option, but we still have to expect it."

Kelsey’s phone rang.

"Hey," she answered.

"I wanted to keep you updated," Detective Brennan said. "We called the doctor’s office, and Tyler Moss has not been there. He didn't call either."

"Okay, thank you," Kelsey said. When she hung up, she told John, "He didn't go to the doctor’s office."

"It has to be him, right?" John asked.

"I think so," Kelsey replied. She stared ahead, longing to see a black jeep, but just as everything had been throughout the investigation, it felt just out of reach.

"I know we have this same feeling with almost every case like this," Kelsey said, "but it feels like we can save this person this time. I know he has his next victim, and I know he is taking them to be sacrificed. I know if we are quick enough, we can stop him. If we get there and find another body, it will really hurt."

"It won't be our fault," John said.

"I know, but it’ll still feel like it." Kelsey looked to the side as the world rushed past. She was not sure they had ever given this fast. She trusted John to drive them. She also knew that she would push him to drive faster if it meant saving someone. She would risk her life and knew John would do the same to join her.

"We’re getting close," Kelsey said. "I have to be right about this."

She was sure they were on the right track and only had to be quick enough to stop him from taking another life, but there was still the uncertainty they were heading to the wrong place, and he would have all the time in the world to make his sacrifice.

Kelsey stared intently ahead, looking for anything, but there were no vehicles on the road ahead, and there was no sign of anyone or anything. John looked around, too. The feeling of failure slowly descended on them.

"Wait, there!" Kelsey shouted. She pointed towards the trees. It was hard to make out, but there was something black amongst the trees.

"Is it him?" John asked.

"I don't know," Kelsey admitted. "There’s something in there. It could be his jeep."

"What’s the play?" John asked.

"I don't think we have any other option," Kelsey said. "The black is stationary. I think he parked in there, and that means he plans to kill them down there. He’ll see us coming from the road. All we can do now is head for them as quick as we can and hope we can take the shot before he kills."

John nodded. He gripped tighter to the steering wheel, firmly pushing on the pedal. He waited until the last moment and braked suddenly, turning the wheel. The truck lurched, and Kelsey placed her hand on John’s shoulder to brace herself. John turned the truck almost ninety degrees, skidding into the grass field and churning up the earth. The wheels spun for a moment, and then they took off diagonally toward the trees.

Kelsey watched the trees for movement. She needed confirmation that the victim was still alive. She held onto the door handle and her seat as they were thrown up and down inside the truck. The ground was bumpy, but it didn't slow John down. He headed for the trees as if he leaned to plow straight through them.

The black object moved, and it became clear it was a jeep.

"He’s on the move," Kelsey said.

"I see," John replied. "I can't get through," he growled.

The trees were too close together to pass between them. John slammed on the brakes and swung the wheel to the right. The black vehicle in the trees headed away from them.

"We have to loop around," John moaned. "He’s getting away."

"He’s heading for the field." Kelsey was thrown to the side and almost hit her head on the dash. She was held in position for a second as the truck swung in a large arc before the trees, and then she was thrown back upright when John took off again.

He tensed and loosened his grip on the wheel as he was forced to drive at right angles to the black jeep. The longer he drove to the end of the tree line, the more time Tyler Moss had to get away.

"Did you see anyone?" John asked. "Are we too late, or is the victim in the jeep with him?"

"I couldn’t see," Kelsey admitted. "We have to hope she's still with him. Either way, we take him down."

"Yes!" John shouted when the end of the tree line came into sight. "Hold on."

Kelsey did as he was told. The truck lurched and moved in another wide arc, this one taking them around the trees and back the way they came. Clods of dirt sprayed up behind them as the wheels spun before gaining traction. They were both thrown back in their seats when the truck shot forward.

Kelsey pointed.

"I see it," John replied. The black jeep was not in view, but the tops of the corn moved as the vehicle plowed through the field.

John swung the wheel and drove the truck toward the field, diagonally toward Tyler Moss. It took a few seconds, and then the truck slammed into the corn stalks.

Thug, thug, thug, thug, thug!

If Tyler Moss was worried about the upcoming harvest, he wasn’t worried about destroying the field of corn to get away. When they were in the field, they couldn’t see the tops of the corn anymore and had to trust they were going the right way. They had to hope there were no workers in the field; there had been enough hurt without the pursuit causing another death or two.

"Stop!" Kelsey screamed. She had seen the line cut through the corn by the black jeep. They had crossed over it and were still paying catch up. She pointed to the right and behind. "That way!"

John slammed on the brakes, spun the wheel, and hit the accelerator. Corn stalks slammed into John’s door—it sounded like hailstones on a tin roof. The truck moved diagonally again, heading in the opposite direction. A few seconds later, he spotted the mown down stalks and skidded in a smaller arc to follow the path cut through the field.

Kelsey’s heart fluttered when she saw the back of the black jeep thirty yards ahead. John pressed down hard again, and the truck rumbled as it cut through the stalks on the side of the cut track. Kelsey could barely sit still as they gained on the jeep ahead of them.

Ten seconds later, they were right on it. John didn't slow. He hit the back of the jeep with a small thud. The jeep was jerked forward and kept going. A large barn was at the end of the cornfield, perhaps a hundred yards away. John tried again, slamming into the back of the keep.

"I need to pull up beside and fishtail it," John said. "But there’s a chance it could flip.

"Do it," Kelsey decided.

Before John had the chance, the jeep swerved to the left. John was on it immediately and answered a moment later, staying right on its tail. The jeep swerved to the right again, and as John followed, the jeep swerved violently to the right. John was about to follow suit when the jeep flipped onto its side and rolled.

John slowed a bit and followed as best he could. They lost sight of the jeep for a moment. He turned to the left, following the shattered corn and cleaved earth. They saw the jeep up ahead and flipped onto its back. John brought the truck closer and then skidded to a stop.

Kelsey was out of the truck first, her gun in her hands, and pointed toward the black jeep. She sprinted for it, looking for any signs of life. She prayed the victim was not dead. She hoped Tyler Moss was still alive, but it was not a necessity.

John was hot on her heels. Kesey got close and pointed her gun at the shattered driver’s window. John ran around to the other side with his gun drawn. Kelsey could not see inside, but John could from the other side.

"There’s no one here!" he shouted.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Kelsey ran around to the other side of the jeep, her gun still drawn. She pointed it toward where John was staring. There was no one in the passenger seat. She crouched down and looked into the vehicle—no one in the driver’s seat either. She knelt and angled her body to look into the back. It was also empty.

"No, no, no," Kelsey shouted as she stood up. "He’s taken them. He’s in the field somewhere. We have to find him." John and Kelsey looked around, trying to spot them.

"The barn is right there," John said.

"He won't have gone there," Kelsey replied quickly. "There would be people. He’s gone into the cornfield. Either he’s trying to escape, or he means to finish the sacrifice."

"Alright," John said. "I’ll go this way; you go that way."

John and Kelsey took off, heading in opposite directions. Kelsey held her gun before her, trying to run with as little noise as possible so she could hear where they went.

He won't be able to move fast if he has the victim with him. Will it matter what happens to him now? Will he die for his cause? Will he kill me or John to do what he needs?

Kelsey stopped to get her bearings. If she was going the wrong way, she was only giving him more time to kill.

She listened, turning in a circle. The breeze ruffled through the corn. There were no other sounds. She was not close enough to the farm to hear the workers or machinery. She hoped no one was in the cornfield. If Tyler stumbled upon them, he would surely kill them, too. More blood spilled would only help the sacrifice.

Who do you have, Tyler? Who means the most to you? Are you about to kill someone else who could help?

There was a movement to her right, and she spun to face it. She could not be sure, but it looked like someone moved across her field of view, going from left to right. She took off running, heading straight toward what she hoped was Tyler Moss.

Do you have a gun, Tyler?

Every step she took, she expected the crack of a gun. He had killed his victims with a knife, but that didn't mean he didn't have a gun on him.

She saw something again to her right, but not as far this time. She held the gun in one hand and pushed past the thick stalks with the other. Moving in a straight line between the rows of corn was easy, but changing direction was harder.

Kelsey felt something draw her back, and she suddenly stopped. She had gone too far. She turned and—

The stick came from nowhere. She was able to get her arm up but was not quick enough to stop the slow. It hit her forearm and carried on into the side of her head. As she went down, her only thought was not to let go of the gun. She thudded to the ground, the other side of her head hitting the earth. She pointed the gun in the direction she thought the attack had come from, but her vision blurred, and everything spiraled before her. She brought her free hand to her temple as the pain burned in it and squeezed her eyes tight. She gripped the gun, ready to shoot if someone tried to take it from her.

Kelsey opened her eyes and focused. He was moving as quickly as he could up ahead, and she made out a second pair of legs. They were moving with him.

You’re still alive!

The energy coursed through her, and Kelsey got to her feet, stumbling forward into a run. She pointed the gun toward the couple up ahead.

"Tyler! Stop, Tyler!" Kelsey shouted.

Tyler Moss didn't stop. He had one arm around the woman. He pushed her forward. Kelsey had a shot at his back, but it could pierce straight through and hit the hostage. She moved her aim up toward his head. She didn't want to kill him but was prepared to.

"Stop, Tyler! Stop, or I will shoot."

Tyler did as he was told, spinning around with the woman in his arms. He had a knife in his hand, held to her neck. The woman looked at Kelsey with wide eyes, begging for help. Kelsey stopped five yards from them, her gun pointed at Tyler’s head. He used the woman as a human shield.

"Tyler, it’s over," Kelsey said.

"It’s not over yet," Tyler said. He didn't stick his head out enough for Kelsey to take the shot.

"Let her go, Tyler," Kelsey ordered.

"I have to do this," Tyler replied.

"I know you believe that, but this is not the way, Tyler," Kelsey told him. "I know you think you're helping, but you're not."

"You've no idea," Tyler spat. "You don't know what this will achieve. You don't know anything."

"I know you're desperate, Tyler," Kelsey said, the gun still held out, waiting for the shot. "I know you've killed four people. I know you sacrificed animals last year, but that didn't work, did it? I know you're choosing people who make worthy sacrifices. Who is she, Tyler? She can help, but you're sacrificing her because you think that makes it a worthy sacrifice."

"She is worthy," Tyler replied. "You don't understand. No one understands."

"Maybe not fully," Kelsey replied. "I know you want to help, and I also believe you don't really want to kill anyone. You didn't want to kill them, did you, Tyler?"

"I had to," Tyler said.

"She is the last one, isn’t she?" Kelsey asked.

"Please," the woman begged.

In response, Tyler pushed the knife a little tighter. The woman gasped.

"Tyler!" Kelsey warned. "You want to help the farms, and I want to help you. There is a better way to do this."

"No," Tyler spat. "They tried everything. You must know that. They tried everything and nothing worked. I won't let them fail like last year. I’m the only one who can help them."

"You are," Kelsey admitted, sensing a different tactic. "I don't agree with what you're doing, but I agree that you're the only one who could do this. She’s important, isn’t she?"

Tears fell from the woman’s eyes.

"Very important," Tyler replied.

"The most important of them all, right?" Kelsey asked. "You had to choose the most important to finish this."

"Then you do understand," Tyler said. He sounded relieved.

"I do understand," Kelsey said. "But you're wrong. You’ll mess this up."

Tyler changed his grip on the knife but kept it on the woman’s neck.

"Mess it up? No, I won't mess it up. Her blood will spill on the ground, and she will make the ultimate sacrifice. You should have let me do it on the farms that needed it, but that will have to do."

"It’s not only the wrong place but the wrong person," Kelsey said. "Maybe the place doesn’t matter, but you searched for the right person and have chosen wrong."

Tyler scoffed. "What is this? Do you think you are the right person? Is that your plan? Have me swap her for you? What will happen? You toss down your gun, and I let her go to take you? Then your partner shoots me? I know he is out here with you. You won't stop me from sacrificing her."

"Not me," Kelsey said. "There is only one worthy sacrifice. You've scoured the area, Tyler. You went looking for those who could most help the farms. I don't care what she can do for the farms; there is someone who has already done much more. There is another who is far more worthy, and if you miss this opportunity, you could lose it all."

The knife moved down a little, and the understanding popped into Tyler’s eyes.

"It’s me," he said. "I'm the one willing to do anything to protect what we have. I'm the ultimate sacrifice. I should…"

"You have to let her go," Kelsey said. "I want to take you in alive, Tyler. They will give you a life sentence for what you've done with no chance of ever getting out, and you'll witness the farms fail before you die because you chose the wrong sacrifice. You'll always know that you failed everyone. You could be a hero, but you must step up and finish what you started. There is only one way to end this."

Jacob had fear in his eyes, but it left them like ice melting in the sunshine.

"This is fate," Tyler said. "I was annoyed at you for forcing me to sacrifice Roger Fenton in the wrong place, but it all led to this. I didn't see how this should end, but it is so clear now."

"Let her go," Kelsey ordered. "Don't let her blood taint this field and ruin everything."

"Yes," Tyler muttered. His eyes were flickering as he thought through what it all meant. He had not planned to be caught, but he was. He was trapped, and there was no way out for him. He would be jailed for life, maybe given the death penalty, but he had a chance to control his end.

Kelsey watched his eyes as they told the story of his thoughts. She saw it. She saw him make the decision. He accepted his fate; he was to be the final sacrifice.

Tyler removed the knife and pushed the woman away. In the same motion, he brought the knife quickly to his neck, ready to cut his own throat.

Kelsey exhaled and shot him.

EPILOGUE

"How are you feeling?" Kelsey asked Elena Rodriguez.

"I owe you my life," she said. "I can't ever repay you enough."

"Continue your work and help the farms in a way that matters, and that will be payment enough," Kelsey said.

"What about… is he…?" Elena asked.

"He’s in the hospital," Kelsey told her. "He’s expected to make a full recovery in time, and when he does, he will go to jail for what he did."

Elena shuddered. "I still can’t believe what he meant to do to me. He was willing to slit my stoat in the field because he thought it would help the crops grow."

"He was desperate," Kelsey said. "That doesn’t justify what he did in any way, but he was desperate. He was willing to do anything. We managed to get him in the end, but it was still far too late. I only hope for a good harvest this year. These people have been through enough."

Elena nodded. Her look told Kelsey she would never be the same again, but there was strength in her eyes, too. Elena Rodriguez was resilient, just like the crops she aimed to develop. She would help the farmers in the area far better than Tyler Moss ever would.

An officer approached to escort Elena from the building. She still had some recovery ahead. Most of her wounds were superficial, but there would be trauma.

"Good luck with your work," Kelsey said.

Elena took Kelsey’s hand. "Thank you."

Kelsey watched Elena leave the building with the officer and noticed Sheriff Cobb watching from the doorway of his office. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he walked over.

"I… we don't do things your way around here, but the killer is caught, and the people are safe," Sheriff Cobb said. He nodded.

Kelsey wanted to chuckle at the attempt to tell her she had done good work without actually saying it.

"We will be out of here soon," Kelsey said. "I’m glad things can go back to normal for you."

"As normal as they can get," the sheriff said before walking off.

Kelsey watched him go. She would miss him in some ways but was glad they were done working together.

"Did he thank you or not?" John asked as he approached.

"I think he did in his own way," Kelsey said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," John replied. "I just got off the phone with the hospital, and the surgery was a success. They dug the bullet out of his shoulder, and he is expected to make a full recovery in a couple of weeks. They said there was a slight cut on his neck but nothing that needed stitches. Again, that was some shot."

"It was instinct," Kelsey said. "I could have easily killed him."

"But you didn’t," John said. "He will face trial and atone for his sins."

They walked toward the door together.

"I only hope the farmers get a good harvest this year," Kelsey said. "They’ve been through enough."

"Whether they do or not, it will have nothing to do with what Tyler Moss did. You stopped him from doing something that would have had no effect on the outcome of the harvest this year. They will survive, and if Elena Rodriguez can do what she said, they will have better and better harvests through the dryer years. Tyler Moss was trying to fix the harvest this year. You saved Elena, and that will guarantee better harvests for years to come, not only here but across the state and then the country."

"Yeah," Kelsey said when she got to John’s truck. "I’m glad we get to go home now. I’ve been away from Erica for too long."

"Don't forget that I need to come around and paint that door surround for you," John said. "And any other things you need to be done. I’m blatantly going to find any excuse to come around and spend time with you. Erica, too. I know you come as a package, and I don't mind that at all."

"That would be nice," Kelsey said as she got into the truck. "It will be nice to spend more time with you, John."

"You won't be able to get rid of me," John said with a smile.

***

Kelsey sat in the large armchair by the window, curled up with a good book. She picked up her cup of tea and took a mouthful. Then, she glanced at Erica on the couch as Erica flipped through a magazine. Kelsey thrived in delving into exciting and life-threatening situations but was glad for some normality. She smiled and turned the page of her book.

The phone on the table by her tea vibrated. She picked it up and read the message.

Be Prepared for our shipment.

Kelsey’s heart fluttered. It was them, the people who took Erica when she was a child and kept her captive for almost twenty years. Kelsey stared at the message. She would do anything to protect her sister, even if that meant looking after some presumably illegal merchandise.

She was about to put the phone down when a second message came.

He will need food and water for the duration of his stay, and you're not to talk to him. Accept the merchandise when it comes, or we will target your sister again.

NOW AVAILABLE!

DEAD WRONG

(A Kelsey Hawk FBI Suspense Thriller—Book Ten)

“This is an excellent book… When you start reading, be sure you don’t have to wake up early!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Lake Sakakawea's tranquil waters are disturbed by corpses marked with mysterious runes, pulling FBI Agent Kelsey Hawk into a sinister game. Amidst rising tensions between a local tribe's sacred land and a ravenous oil company, can she reveal the truth behind the symbols, or will she be swallowed by the wave of deceit?

“This book moved very fast and every page was exciting. Plenty of dialogue, you absolutely love the characters, and you were rooting for the good guy throughout the whole story… I look forward to reading the next in the series.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

DEAD WRONG is book #10 in a new series by #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, whose bestseller NOT ME (a free download) has received over 1,500 five star ratings and reviews.

When she was just a child, Kelsey’s entire family was murdered, leaving her, the sole survivor, to grow up in the foster system. A rising star in the FBI, Kelsey set her ambitions on being assigned to a field office in the big city, away from the ghosts of her past. But when she’s reassigned to a small town in North Dakota, she can’t help but remember all the tragedy she fought so hard to leave behind.

Can she stop this killer in time?

A page-turning and harrowing crime thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured FBI agent, the KELSEY HAWK series is a riveting mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll, and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are now available!

“Kate did an amazing job on this book and I was hooked from the first chapter!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“I really enjoyed this book. The characters were authentic, and I see the bad guys as something we hear about daily on the news... Looking forward to book 2.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“This was a really good book. The main characters were real, flawed and human. The story went along quickly and wasn't mired in too many unnecessary details. I really enjoyed it.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Alexa Chase is headstrong, impatient, but most of all brave with a capital B. She never, repeat never, backs down until the bad guys are put where they belong. Clearly five stars!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Captivating and riveting serial murder with a twist of the macabre… Very well done.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

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“WOW what a great read! Talk about a diabolical killer! Really enjoyed this book. Looking forward to reading others by this author as well.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

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“Page turner for sure. Great characters and relationships. I got into the middle of this story and couldn’t put it down. Looking forward to more from Kate Bold.”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

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“Hard to put down. It has an excellent plot and has the right amount of suspense. I really enjoyed this book.”

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⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

“Extremely well written, and well worth buying and reading. I can't wait to read book two!”

—Reader review for The Killing Game

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

DEAD WRONG

(A Kelsey Hawk FBI Suspense Thriller—Book Ten)

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eleven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting);  the LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising nine books (and counting); the NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the NINA VEIL FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising ten books (and counting); OF the BARREN PINES PSYCHOLIGICAL SUSPENSE series, comprising seven books (and counting); of the ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); and of the MAGGIE FLIGHT SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting).

THE KILLING GAME (an Alexa Chase Suspense Thriller—Book #1), LET ME GO (an Ashley Hope Suspense Thriller—Book #1), and NOT ME (a Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book #1) are available as free downloads on Amazon!

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

BOOKS BY KATE BOLD

MAGGIE FLIGHT SUSPENSE THRILLER

FINAL KILL (Book #1)

FINAL CHANCE (Book #2)

FINAL MISTAKE (Book #3)

FINAL LIE (Book #4)

FINAL BREATH (Book #5)

FINAL WHISPER (Book #6)

FINAL HOUR (Book #7)

ADDISON SHINE SUSPENSE THRILLER

FIND ME (Book #1)

FIND HER (Book #2)

FIND HELP (Book #3)

FIND HOME (Book #4)

FIND HIM (Book #5)

FIND YOU (Book #6)

FIND HOPE (Book #7)

BARREN PINES

THE UNSEEN NEIGHBOR (Book #1)

THE UNSEEN WIFE (Book #2)

THE UNSEEN KILLER (Book #3)

THE UNSEEN WOMAN (Book #4)

THE UNSEEN PAST (Book #5)

NINA VEIL SUSPENSE THRILLER

AWAY FROM HERE (Book #1)

AWAY FROM HIM (Book #2)

AWAY FROM HOPE (Book #3)

AWAY FROM HOME (Book #4)

AWAY FROM HUMANITY (Book #5)

KELSEY HAWK MYSTERY

DEAD INSIDE (Book #1)

DEAD RECKONING (Book #2)

DEAD TO ME (Book #3)

DEAD SILENCE (Book #4)

DEAD TO DAWN (Book #5)

DEAD END (Book #6)

DEAD OF NIGHT (Book #7)

DEAD CALM (Book #8)

DEAD AND GONE (Book #9)

ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER

THE KILLING GAME (Book #1)

THE KILLING TIDE (Book #2)

THE KILLING HOUR (Book #3)

THE KILLING POINT (Book #4)

THE KILLING FOG (Book #5)

THE KILLING PLACE (Book #6)

ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER

LET ME GO (Book #1)

LET ME OUT (Book #2)

LET ME LIVE (Book #3)

LET ME BREATHE (Book #4)

LET ME FORGET (Book #5)

LET ME ESCAPE (Book #6)

CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOT ME (Book #1)

NOT NOW (Book #2)

NOT WELL (Book #3)

NOT HER (Book #4)

NOT NORMAL (Book #5)

NOT AGAIN (Book #6)

NOT SAFE (Book #7)

NOT TODAY (Book #8)

HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOWHERE SAFE (Book #1)

NOWHERE LEFT (Book #2)

NOWHERE TO RUN (Book #3)

NOWHERE LIKE THIS (Book #4)

NOWHERE GIRL (Book #5)

NOWHERE TO HIDE (Book #6)

NOWHERE CERTAIN (Book #7)

NOWHERE PURE (Book #8)

NOWHERE SOUND (Book #9)

NOWHERE SANE (Book #10)

NOWHERE TRUE (Book #11)

KAYLIE BROOKS PYSCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

LAST BREATH (Book #1)

LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

LAST WISH (Book #3)

LAST SHOT (Book #4)

LAST MISTAKE (Book #5)

EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IN HIS BLOOD (Book #1)

IN HIS SIGHTS (Book #2)

IN HIS REACH (Book #3)

IN HIS MIND (Book #4)

IN HIS WAY (Book #5)

IN HIS THOUGHTS (Book #6)

IN HIS DREAMS (Book #7)

DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

OUT OF REACH (Book #1)

OUT OF TOUCH (Book #2)

OUT OF TIME (Book #3)

OUT OF BOUNDS (Book #4)

OUT OF LUCK (Book #5)

LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SOMETHING KNOCKING (Book #1)

SOMETHING CALLING (Book #2)

SOMETHING WRONG (Book 3)

SOMETHING DARK (Book #4)

SOMETHING TO HIDE (Book #5)