Page 84 of High Frequency

Bellinger continues to dole out responsibilities with a focus on identifying the victims and connecting them to missing person’s reports, which is going to take some time. He instructs the various law enforcement departments he wants a BOLO issued for the truck and when spotted, to keep eyes on it until further instruction. His office will be looking into Cedric Transport.

“Any and all new information is to come directly to me. I’m central station, it’s the only way to make sure we don’t miss a thing. Let’s stop this guy.”

As we file out of the boardroom, Jillian falls into step beside me. I’d been surprised to see her still around.

“How’s the ankle?” she inquires.

“Not too bad. The boot keeps it stable.” I glance over at her as we make our way down the hallway. “I figured you’d be gone already.”

“I was asked to hang around. I took Emo down there one last time yesterday afternoon—once the forensic team removed all the remains—to make sure we hadn’t missed anything in the surrounding area.” She shrugs. “We didn’t find anything else.”

She holds open the door to the parking lot for me.

“So…when are you heading back?”

“Now. Emo is waiting for me in the car.” She glances down at my boot. “Did you drive yourself?”

“Dan dropped me off. I have to call him for a pickup.”

“Nonsense, I’m driving by the ranch anyway. I’ll drop you off.”

She pulls up in front of my cabin fifteen minutes later. Mom is on the porch with Aspen who is doing push-ups on her play mat.

“Is that your little one?”

“That’s Aspen. Come on, you can meet her and my mom.”

“Okay, five minutes. It’ll give Emo a chance to stretch her legs before we hit the road.”

Five minutes turn into twenty, which includes a cup of coffee and a muffin.

“Your daughter is precious,” she says, getting to her feet as she hands her back to me. “And she has a lifetime fan in Emo.”

The dog had her nose two inches from some part of Aspen at all times, and my daughter loved it.

“I may consult you about a puppy at some point. Once I find my own place to live,” I tell her as I settle my daughter on my arm.

“Call me any time.”

I hug her and say goodbye to Emo. I’m a bit sad to see them go, I liked the idea of having someone closer to my own age around.

I wave as Jillian drives off, heading down the driveway. When I turn to go inside, I notice my neighbor standing in the doorway of his cabin.

Wolff doesn’t see me; his eyes are fixed on the back of her disappearing SUV.

Dan

I straighten up and stretch my back.

It’s done. It took a bit longer than anticipated, but all the framing is complete.

A quick glance at my phone tells me it’s three fifteen, not too bad. I’m going to quickly clean up my tools and straighten up what’s left of the pile of two-by-fours outside. Then maybe I can pick up a pizza at the Red Dog Saloon and have a lazy night at home.

I’ve got both the HVAC and plumbing contractors coming in tomorrow morning. They’ll have to work around each other, but we’re on a pretty tight schedule. Electrical will be last, before insulation and drywall go up. That part—drywalling, taping, mudding, and sanding—will be the most time-consuming.

I carry the tools downstairs and organize them in the large storage bin near the side door. Next, I head outside to haul the table saw and generator in from the side porch. Then I head to the leftover lumber which is haphazardly tossed around the yard and try to wrangle it back into a neat pile. Finally, I gather up the trimmed pieces in a bin. Whatever I don’t need, I can cut into kindling.

Spotting a few pieces that slipped under the porch, I lean down and fish them out, when my hand touches something metal.

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