'Thanks,' Quinn said. 'That'll help.'
'Whoever started the fire probably took it. They're long gone by now.'
Quinn was thinking along the same lines. But it wouldn't hurt to check it out. He did find it odd, though, that Peter seemed so anxious for him to close the case.
'What else?' Peter asked.
'Huh?'
'You said a few things.'
'Just a figure of speech,' Quinn lied.
'I'm sorry, Agent Bennett. There wasn't a car there when the fire department arrived,' Chief Johnson said. 'We shouldn't have missed that. I'm not going to apologize. We're a small force, and we don't get a lot of people dying like that around here. Still, I should have noticed it.'
'I wouldn't worry too much,' Quinn said into his phone. 'Maybe a friend brought him up. Or maybe he just hired a ride.'
'I guess that's possible,' Johnson said. 'I'll look into it.'
'Maybe Taggert's sister will know something. If nothing else, she might at least know what kind of car he drove,' Quinn said, hoping to delay any search by the police until he'd been able to conduct one of his own.
'Good idea. I'll try her.' 'Let me know if you come up with anything,' Quinn said. He asked the chief to fax him a copy
of the final report, giving him a number that would send the document straight to Quinn's e-mail in-box. They said their goodbyes, then Quinn hung up and got out of the car.
The snow was continuing to fall, lighter than before but steady. To his left, he heard the door of the Jeep Cherokee open and close. A moment later, Nate joined him.
They stood side by side looking at the remains of the Farnham house, the sound of their breathing the only noise breaking the silence.
After nearly two minutes, Nate said, 'Did you find anything?'
Quinn didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was calm. 'What were my instructions when I called you?'
'I know. I fucked up. I should have just waited in my hotel room until you called, just like you told me.'
'Why?' Quinn asked. Nate hesitated, then said, 'Because I could have messed everything up?' 'Because,' Quinn said, his voice calm as he turned to look at Nate, 'that's what I told you to do.'
'I'm sorry.'
Quinn looked at his apprentice, his face neutral. 'I've told you what sorry gets you.' Nate glanced down at the ground, then back up at Quinn. 'Sorry gets you killed.'
Quinn turned without another word and started making a perimeter search of the parking area. Nate silently followed him a few steps behind.
Quinn didn't really expect to find anything else.
What tracks hadn't been covered up by the new snow had undoubtedly already been destroyed by the rescue vehicles during the fire. He stopped after only a few minutes. If Taggert had a Cadillac, there was no longer any sign of it.
He stared into the wilderness, mulling it over. If Peter was right, the car was probably hundreds of miles away, dumped in a random parking lot. But there was another possibility. And the more Quinn thought about it, the more likely it seemed.
Back in the Explorer, he started the engine and pulled out onto Yancy Lane. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he saw Nate following him in the Cherokee. At least there was something the kid didn't need to be told.
Quinn picked up his phone and called local information.
Chapter 4
Quinn knew if the killer hadn't driven out of town, then his most likely destination had been the nearest alternate transportation, whatever would have gotten him out of town faster. There was really only one place they needed to check. The Goose Valley Community Airport.
And there it was – a white, late-model Caddy. It was parked at the far end of the almost deserted airport parking lot, so it wasn't a stretch to guess that the airport had closed for the day because of the coming storm. It wasn't a big facility in the first place. Quinn knew there couldn't be more than a handful of flights a day, mostly private.
Quinn parked the Explorer next to the Cadillac, Nate pulling up alongside him in the Cherokee. No one would see them, and even if someone did, it was doubtful they'd come over to see what Quinn and Nate were doing. Not in this weather.
Quinn got out of his car and stepped over to the Caddy. 'Who does this belong to?' Nate asked as he walked up.
'Not important,' Quinn said.
Quinn checked the doors. Locked. He walked back over to the Explorer and retrieved a long, flat piece of flexible metal from the surveillance kit. The metal strip was straight for about a foot and a half, then bent up and down like
