Free Frozen (Detective Ellie MacIntosh) by Kate Watterson Page B

bright and good at her job, but let’s face it, there just aren’t many murder investigations up here. I hope you’ll cooperate with state law enforcement in every way if it becomes necessary.”
    “We will, but don’t discount MacIntosh. She’s done some homicide and she’s good at this, sir.”
    “That’s what I keep telling the relatives of these missing women. Margaret Wilson’s husband is especially persistent. I can’t blame him.”
    Point taken . Rick got to his feet. “I’ll get back to it.”
    Pearson leaned forward and for once his gaze was riveted. “Four is four too many. I don’t want any more victims, Jones.”
    “No, sir. Neither do I.”
    “Good. Catch this guy so we can go back to being a sleepy little county with only the occasional hunters shooting each other and a boating accident or two, okay?”
    Rick nodded and left, striding out of the office with a purpose, only to crash into Colleen just outside the doorway. The sheriff’s secretary, holding a sheaf of papers, staggered. He caught her by the upper arms, and smiled an apology. “Sorry. In a hurry.”
    “I guess so.” She had frizzy, unnaturally dark hair and large breasts, which she concealed under loose baggy tops. Today it was black with orange and white stripes, maybe in honor of Halloween, but it made her look like an overstuffed piece of candy corn. She peered up at him from under the fluffy fringe of her bangs. “You might want this.”
    “‘This’ being?” He took the file.
    “Updated information on any registered sex offenders in a hundred-mile radius.”
    “Should be pleasant reading.” He took the file and grimaced. “It always is.”
    She patted him on the shoulder. “You have fun now.”
    Rick went to his desk and sat down, glanced at his skimmed-over cup of coffee in distaste, and opened the file. Not too much had changed. A few had moved away—they didn’t seem to stay in one place long—and a few new ones had moved to the area.
    One of them caught his eye. A convicted pedophile had moved to just outside Antigo named Michael Sandoval. It wouldn’t mean anything more than any of the other names on the page, except he’d moved up from Stevens Point and that meant he’d had access to the area for a while. Stevens Point was maybe only an hour and a half away.
    Rick made a small check next to his name. He’d call the guy’s parole officer, get a feel for Sandoval. The missing women weren’t children by any means, but they had been young—under thirty, and one had been nineteen.
    One other name on the list made him sit back and take a deep breath. Keith Walters. The last name was familiar, but it wasn’t all that uncommon … He booted up his computer and sure enough, the address matched. Fantastic, he thought with an inner wince. Reginald Walters had a brother. A little brother from the birth date. This was like a fucking birthday present he didn’t want. Both of them were bad, bad news. And apparently both of them now lived in Lincoln County.
    He punched up a number on the phone on his desk and waited. Ellie was not on duty but she picked up on the third ring, brisk and businesslike. “MacIntosh.”
    “It’s me. Say, want some good news?”
    “From your tone I’m going take this with a grain of salt. What’s up?”
    “Remember how we just talked about Walters?”
    “Charming felon from Joliet, filthy beard, monosyllables and unattractive body odor? How could I forget him?” she said dryly.
    “Yeah, well, good things come in pairs.” Rick leaned back in his chair, the springs squeaking. “He has a brother. A sex offender. You’ll be touched to find out they happen to be a close family. Keith Walters just moved in with big bro about two weeks ago. Before this he was in Appleton.”
    “Are you serious?” There was unmistakable interest in her voice. “That was right before Margaret Wilson disappeared.”
    “He was convicted on statutory rape about five years ago. I have another lead