The Blake Ghost (The Braddock & Gray Case Files Book 4) by H.P. Bayne

Author:H.P. Bayne [Bayne, H.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bayne Independent Publishing
Published: 2020-12-23T16:00:00+00:00

10

The farmyard was some distance off the highway, far enough to cause Sully a new worry.

As Eva pulled onto the approach to what must have once been the road to the farm, Sully turned to her.

“It’ll be a long way to lug Dez if Blake won’t come willingly.”

Eva’s eyes didn’t leave the scene out the windshield—snow-covered fields, a grove of evergreens and oak in the distance and a set of footprints leading away from the highway.

“I know,” she said. “We’ll just have to do the best we can. It’s for Dez.”

Good enough for Sully.

They exited the vehicle and followed Dez’s trail through the knee-deep snow. Sully belatedly realized he should contact Lisa and gave her a call.

“What’s going on?” she asked immediately upon answering.

“We’ve got a handle on him,” Sully said. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him near you again, no matter what. You’re safe to go back to the house.”

“Good, because I’m actually already there. Ciaran called saying he was on his way home. I needed to make sure everything looked the same as it did when he left. I don’t want him to know anyone was here. It would be too hard to explain.”

“I understand. I’m sorry if anything was messed up. We kind of left in a hurry.”

“I get it. Thanks for what you’ve done already. Will you let me know when it’s officially over and that you guys are okay?”

“Of course,” Sully said. “I’ll be in touch sometime this evening.”

He disconnected and refocused on their current task.

A five-minute walk became ten, their path often impeded by deep snowdrifts.

The sun was setting as the two-storey brick house came into view, peeking from around the trees. Its style suggested it had been built in the nineteen twenties or thirties, and the look of the place told Sully someone had been taking care of it until sometime within the past decade. Not anymore, though. Staggered two-by-fours barricaded the lower floor windows, and the shingles were peeling away, leaving the roof sinking with rot in one spot this side.

A few more steps and they had a better glimpse of what must have once been a very comfortable farmhouse. A veranda ran the length of the front, and a small balcony had been built over it, opening out from one of the upstairs rooms. Tiny windows beneath the gables suggested a usable attic space, although the basement—if one existed—didn’t boast any windows or access points.

Eva tugged Sully toward the trees. “Let’s hold here a minute and watch. We don’t know what we’re walking into.”

Though Sully was eager to move, Eva was a trained police officer. If she wanted to scope out the situation for a minute, she had her reasons. He stood next to her and waited.

“No board over the front door,” she observed. “He must have pried it off. If all the windows have been boarded up, the door probably was too.”

True. “Guess we’ll have to go the same way.”

“What I’m trying to decide is whether there might be any firearms or other weapons inside.

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