“Yes. That was easy. No voices but a disturbance in the birds?”
“That’s right.” She nodded. “Caleb told me that you were a SEAL. You’d know the basics.” They had come over the hill, and she saw the yellow tape cordoning off the area. There was a uniformed policeman standing by a pine tree, and he lifted his hand in greeting at Joe when he saw him.
Margaret’s gaze was drawn to the area in the center of the taped enclosure. She felt a wave of sadness. “Poor man. Death comes so swiftly sometimes. How did he die?”
“His throat was cut. Do you want to get closer?”
“No, this is fine. What do you want from me?”
“Anything you can give me. We need to know where Dukes was killed on the property and if there’s any evidence to be found there. There’s a possibility that Dukes might have been trailing Doane when he stole a truck from the Hallet farm several miles from here. We can’t find the farmer or Doane’s vehicle.” He added grimly. “I have search teams all over the property, but there are too many damn acres, and I need to know something now.”
“It’s not going to be that fast,” she said absently. “You’re asking too much. I have to find a carrier with a reason to be concerned.” She dropped down on the ground and crossed her legs tailor fashion. “You’re right; the birds are disturbed. Some of them left when the grave was being dug. Some when you excavated the body. There are only a few left who were here originally, and I don’t sense any who witnessed anything disturbing.” She saw Joe’s skeptical look, and said, “Yes, if they saw Dukes’s throat being cut, they would be particularly disturbed. Death disturbs all creatures. Even if they don’t understand it or empathize with it, there’s a sense of loss.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He hesitated, then fell to his knees beside her. “What’s next?”
“I cast around for an animal I can work with who has been disturbed enough to linger or come back to the grave.” She was gazing down the hill at the grave. “It may take a while.”
He was silent for a few minutes, his gaze on her intent face. “How long?”
He could see the effort she had to use to jerk her attention back to him. “You don’t have to stay. It’s hard for you to believe it’s worthwhile, that I’m worthwhile. I’ll come back to the cottage if I have anything to report.”
The words surprised him with their simple maturity. She gave the impression of cheerful high energy and youthful vigor, but he was beginning to see layers beneath that façade that intrigued him. “I’ll stay. God knows I don’t have anything else to do right now until Venable—” He broke off as his phone signaled an incoming call. “That may be Jane. I told her to call me if Venable showed—Shit!” He was gazing at the ID. “Eve!” He punched the button.
Nothing.
A dial tone.
He was dialing Venable as he jumped to his feet. “I just got a signal that could be a missed call from Eve. It didn’t even ring. What the hell is happening? Did you get a trace on her?”
“They’re working on it,” Venable said. “The call was cut off before it made a connection. But they may have the tower.”
“May?” Joe repeated savagely. “Who the hell knows what Eve risked to make that call. And your tech guys can’t trace it?”
“They’re trying, Joe. If anyone can do it, they can. I’m almost at the cottage. I’ll see you within an hour.” Venable hung up.
Joe whirled and started down the hill toward the path to the cottage.
“Joe.” Margaret called out quietly from behind him, “I know that this seems unimportant at the moment, but I think I’ve found what you were looking for.”
She was right. When he’d gotten the call from Eve, he’d forgotten that Margaret existed, much less for what he’d asked her to search. He looked impatiently over his shoulder. “What, already? You said that it would take—”
“It’s a feral cat. I got lucky.”
“And that means?”
“Cats are clever, and they stalk prey. Feral cats are always looking for food, and this one scavenges the neighboring farms as well as your woods for his next meal. The wife of the farmer who Doane stole a truck from often fed the feral cats on the property.”
“So?”
“The cat was familiar with the farmer as well as his wife. There was often grain in the bed of the farmer’s truck, which he went after when he couldn’t find any other prey.”