Free Creatures of Appetite by Todd Travis Page A

exclaimed.
    “What is it?” Thorne asked.
    “They found the Jacobson girl’s body already,” Scroggins hung up the phone, “right outside of Garrison.”
    “That was fast,” Kane said.
    “Fastest recovery yet, this one is nuclear-hot,” Scroggins said.
    “Garrison is only five or six miles from Brainard,” Gilday said.
    “Then that’s where we go first,” Thorne said. “Johnson! We’re going to Garrison and stop riding the brake; we want to get there sometime tonight.”
    Kane noticed that the dynamic had shifted and there was no doubt as to who was in charge now. She found that interesting, to say the least.

Chapter Fourteen

    I n a cornfield a mile outside of Garrison, searchlights lit up the sky and a tarp covered the dumpsite to protect it from the heavy snowfall. Uniformed men and vehicles surround the site and cordoned off the area with police tape. A forensics team took photos and searched thoroughly for trace evidence as Scroggins and Gilday observed. Kane viewed the body for a long moment before rejoining Thorne, standing off by himself away the group.
    “Are you going to take a look?” Kane asked him.
    “Nope.”
    “Why not?’
    “I’m looking at other things.”
    “How could somebody do that to a child?” Kane asked, looking ill.
    “HOW is easy,” Thorne replied. “HOW is always easy. Why, why is what’s important.”
    “Then why, fucking why?”
    “Why do you think?”
    Kane thought on that, realizing that Thorne was again testing her.
    “He’s angry.”
    “Who isn’t angry? We’re all angry, Kane.”
    Kane caught the disdain in his voice and it cut her. She struggled to think but images of the dead child cluttered her mind. Gilday joined them.
    “Throat cut, perp was standing behind her when he did it. Flesh cut off from the back, buttocks and legs, similar to the Iceman. Arm and foot missing.”
    “But she wasn’t killed here,” Thorne stated.
    “No,” Gilday admitted. “No spray. She was killed somewhere else and left here.”
    “Time of death?”
    “Rough estimate till they get her on the table, but they’re saying hour or two, tops. Not long at all. We got lucky, one of the town cops out looking for her spotted the body. Quickest recovery time yet and there’s a lot of trace left at this one that they were able to get to before the weather did.”
    “Panties?”
    “Panties tied around her head, covering her eyes,” Kane answered for Gilday.
    “Hello, Mr. FunnyPants,” Thorne walked around and looked at the dark empty Nebraska fields and farmland surrounding him. “Why here, why did the body end up here?”
    “You all right?’ Gilday asked Kane.
    “No. I’m pretty fucking far from all right,” she answered.
    “He doesn’t drive, he didn’t walk. Why here? Can’t tell what kind of tracks he left because the falling snow,” Thorne continued. “Does it ever stop snowing in this shithole?”
    Scroggins joined them. “Jesus Christ, every time I have to look at one of these it burns my ass. You puke again, Jeff?”
    “No, shut up.”
    “He always pukes whenever we have to look at bodies,” Scroggins said. “Are you holding it in?”
    “No, shut up, dickhead.”
    “What? It’s not like I blame you,” Scroggins replied.
    “Wake up, kids,” Thorne interrupted. “What’s that over there?”
    They all looked in the direction Thorne pointed to, off in the darkness. By the shadows cast from the spotlights, an extremely large building could be seen just on the edge of town, about a half a mile away.
    “Grain silo,” Scroggins said.
    “A what?” Thorne asked.
    “A grain silo,” Kane said.
    Thorne started walking toward the grain silo. Everyone reluctantly followed him.
    “Okay. What the hell is a grain silo?” Thorne asked, wading through the snow. Everyone hurried to catch up to him.
    “A grain silo is where they store grain. Grain is harvested all fall, stored here most of the winter until it’s sold. Sometimes it’s called a grain