The two-track entry road to the dark trailer was muddy and rutted. Old ranch equipment—broken-down tractors, a hay-baling machine, a slumped-over wooden wagon—lined both sides of the path. Unlike many remote ranches that had a graveyard of broken machinery and trucks, it was obvious someone had deliberately placed the equipment there, just as someone had erected the archway and wired on the skulls. Sheriff Reed’s van, as well as two county SUVs, were parked in front of a ramshackle double-wide trailer that looked like a flatbed had backed up and dumped it off years before. There were dead trees on the windward side of the structure and a litter-strewn front yard. A hand-painted sign was mounted on the front of the trailer near the door that read:

STAY OUT

SURVIVORS WILL BE PROSECUTED

Joe noted a ten-foot chain-link enclosure on the side of the trailer. The gravel floor of the cage was covered with feces, and lengths of chain snaked through the gravel. Obviously, Cudmore housed dogs there.

Dulcie Schalk’s Subaru Outback sat off to the side.

Joe wheeled in and killed the motor. He said to Lucy, “How about you stay in the truck until I figure out what’s going on?”

“Okay.”

She seemed to be in no hurry to get out. He reached over and patted her shoulder before opening his door.

Dulcie was in the middle of a heated conversation with Deputy Boner. Sheriff Reed was in his wheelchair between the two of them as if he were a referee.

“What we’ve got here is an illegal search,” Dulcie said to Boner. “You entered private property without a warrant and went through his garbage. I could see Judge Hewitt rule that whatever you found here is inadmissible as evidence.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Boner said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I drove out here in response to a call to ask Mr. Cudmore some questions about his whereabouts yesterday. The subject wasn’t home, and as I was heading back to my vehicle, I heard what I thought was a baby crying.”

That silenced Dulcie, and she looked to Reed. Reed was noncommittal.

“The crying sound was coming from the dumpster,” Boner said, pointing toward a dented metal box on the edge of the lot. “I thought it sounded human, so I had probable cause to look inside to make sure there wasn’t anyone in imminent danger.”

“He had probable cause,” Reed said, nodding his head.

“A crying sound?” Dulcie asked, skeptical.

“Turned out to be a cat,” Boner said. “There was a cat in there. But it sure sounded like a baby crying.”

“And where is it now?” Dulcie asked.

“As soon as I lifted the lid, it ran away.”

“And this evidence you found was just sitting on top in plain view?”

Boner looked over at Reed, then said, “Sort of.”

Dulcie moaned. “What does that mean?”

“I shined my light in there and saw some fabric poking out of the garbage. So I kind of pushed some trash aside.”

“Think of his state of mind,” Reed said. “At this point, he was still thinking baby, not cat.”

Dulcie asked Boner, “What color was it? The cat, I mean.”

Boner hesitated a second before saying, “Black.”

“A black cat,” Reed echoed.

“With white feet,” Boner said, as if just then recalling the detail.

“Did you and the sheriff cook this up together?” Dulcie asked, but her tone had softened.

“Would we ever do anything like that?” Reed asked. Then, looking up, he said, “Hey, Joe.”

“Mike.”

“I’m glad you’re here. We’ve got a couple of things to show you.”

“That’s why I brought my daughter Lucy,” Joe said. “She knows April’s clothing and such.”

He winked at Dulcie. “We would have gotten here sooner,” he said, “but I had to slow down to let a black cat cross the road.”

“Hmph,” Dulcie said, shaking her head. But she didn’t continue with her objections.

—

AFTER JOE WAS ASSURED by Boner and Reed that nothing Lucy would see should upset her, she joined them near the dumpster. The items Boner had found inside were displayed on a blue plastic tarp and covered with a clear sheet of plastic. Evidence numbers and tags were already attached and the display was ready to be photographed. Beads of moisture dotted the outside plastic from snowflakes that had melted on it.

Boner swept the beam of his flashlight from item to item.

“That’s her sweater,” Lucy said, pointing at a thick beige garment. “I know because I used to borrow it from her closet. She yelled at me when she found out, so I stopped.”

“What about the coat?” Reed asked gently.

He was referring to a multicolored leather jacket embroidered with NFR logos and insignias.

“I’ve never seen that in person,” Lucy said, “because I think it’s new. It looks new. I’m pretty sure there are a couple of photos on Facebook of her wearing it, though. That’s easy to check.”

Reed and Dulcie exchanged looks, and Dulcie nodded that she’d follow up.

“And there’s this,” Reed said, gesturing toward what looked like a leather shoulder bag with a western buckle strap on it. Joe recognized it himself from the last time he’d seen April. She had slung the bag into the cab of his truck when he’d picked her up after work at Welton’s Western Wear. All she could talk about that day as they drove home was having met Dallas Cates, who had been at the store that day to promote his line of denim jeans.

“That’s her purse,” Lucy said. Joe noticed her eyes were moist.

“We found a wallet inside with her Wyoming driver’s license,” Reed said to Joe. “There were no credit cards or cash, though. I assume she has a cell phone, but we haven’t found it yet.”

“She has a phone,” Lucy said.

Deputy Boner said, “We’re waiting for a generator and lights before we crawl back in the dumpster. There’s a lot of stuff in there, and heavier things like a phone or keys might have settled to the bottom. There may be other items in there, too. These things were obvious because they were on top.”

“Under the black cat,” Dulcie said, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am,” Boner said with what sounded like sincerity.

“Where’s this Tilden Cudmore?” Joe asked.

“He looks like our perp,” Boner said.

“Whoa there,” Reed said. “Who’s to say he didn’t find these things on the highway and bring them home to throw away after pocketing the credit cards and cash?”

Boner said, “He still looks like our perp. Especially since somebody saw him forcing April into his car.”

“There’s that,” Reed said.

“Again,” Dulcie said, raising her voice, “I want everyone here to proceed with caution. I’ll grant that it looks bad for Mr. Cudmore, but we only know what we know . . . about this son of a bitch.”

Joe almost smiled. Dulcie had revealed more about her thoughts than she had wanted to, he thought.

—

“HAVE YOU BEEN INSIDE?” Joe asked Reed, nodding toward the dark trailer.

“We’re waiting on a warrant from Judge Hewitt,” Reed said. “Dulcie put that in motion earlier, and we tracked him down having dinner at the Burg-O-Pardner. He signed it. We should have it within the half hour. The evidence tech is also on the way.”

Joe nodded. They were near Reed’s van. Boner and the other deputies were establishing a crime scene perimeter by threading yellow tape along the barbed-wire fence and entry arch. Lucy was in Joe’s truck on her cell, filling in her mother and Sheridan. Dulcie was leaning against her car, talking on her cell phone as well.

“I’ve got to admit this really surprised me,” Reed said. “He wasn’t on our radar at all. Maybe Brenda kind of had a point about going at this with blinders on.”

“I’m still not sold,” Joe said. “What can you tell me about Tilden Cudmore?”

“He’s a nut,” Reed said without hesitation. “I’ve had quite a few encounters with him over the years—enough that when we get that warrant I want everyone to take their time going through that trailer of his. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out it’s booby-trapped. He’s probably got fragmentation grenades rigged up to trip wires and shotguns cocked and aimed toward the doors. I might even leave it alone for now and ask the state bomb squad to open it up as soon as they can get here.”