Free Not Until Moonrise by Heather Hellinger Page B

there. Cops found the bodies of the first two when they were setting up the crime scene.  Killer just piled up the parts under a tarp and left them to rot.”
       “You said Kutcher was trying to talk.” Kate gripped the folder tight. “What did he say?”
       Eddie shook his head. “Whatever it was, it didn’t end up in the report.” He finished his coffee and waved for more. “What do you think, Morgan? Ready for a trip down memory lane?”
       “I don’t know. What’s the pay like?”
       “Twenty on acceptance, twenty on delivery.”
       “And if it’s not a wolf, I still keep the first check?”
       “Guaranteed. But I’d count on a full payout for this one. Look at the file. That kind of damage, it’s not something a person can do without serious tools and staging. The locals are calling it a cougar attack, getting ready to turn out the dogs.”
       Eddie was right. She flipped through the crime scene photos, studying shots of the three dead men. At least, parts of them. Adam, Noah, Josh. She’d wanted them punished, but like this?
       She startled when Eddie reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
       “Hey, I know this can’t be easy. Too close to home. Literally, right? But there’s nobody better suited for it. We need you, Kate.” He hesitated. “He, uh… he was from Porter, too, wasn’t he?”
       He didn’t have to say a name. Kate knew by the tone of his voice who he meant. Eddie had been letting her know for two years that when she was ready to get over Jackson, he was ready to help her.
       He was attractive enough. Blonde hair going silver and probably old enough to be her father, but she didn’t mind. He had a strong face and a direct gaze, and he was ten times the hunter she was. He had taught her everything, after all. But she couldn’t see getting involved with someone who was sworn to deny her existence in the event of actual trouble.
       Eddie Carman had recruited her to the Division fresh out of police academy. Y ou’ve got raw talent, Morgan, and you’re aching to do some damage, I can tell. That’s a recipe for disaster for a cop. But the division I work in, it might just keep you alive. Eddie had trained her, been her sole point of contact for six years, and told her the truth flat out: If things ever went south with local authorities, she was on her own. Edward Carman didn’t exist, and the Division did not know her name.
       Kate drew her hand away.
       “What do you think?” he asked again, quieter.
       It was on the tip of her tongue to say it. Jackson’s alive. He called me. He said— But what had he said exactly? Nothing.
       She felt sick to her stomach. At least one part of the problem had been solved. Now she knew where Jackson was.
       Christ , she thought. What have you done, Jack?
       To Eddie, she said, “I’ll do it.”

S econd
     
    THE SKY OVER THE WOODS went slowly dark. Kate watched through the windshield as it happened, as bloody sunset cooled to violet, as the light faded, and took with it the last illusion of safety.
       She picked up the manila file resting on the truck’s passenger seat and flipped it open, though she’d memorized the contents hours earlier, before she ever filled up the gas tank of her truck and started north.
       Three crime scenes, thee bodies torn limb from limb and left to rot.
       Except Joshua Kutcher, who’d still been twitching, though not for long. According to the police report, the kids who discovered him had gone out to the old barn on Thresher Road to be alone. Legend had it the place was haunted by the ghost of the farmer who’d lived there in the eighties. He’d been a drunk, folks said, and always a little off his rocker. When the recession hit, he blew big time. Set fire to the farmhouse while his wife and daughter were sleeping inside, then came out to the barn and hung himself.
       By the time Kate was in high school, the place had been abandoned