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The sun broke through the cracks of the mostly naked canopy of trees, splashing light on the dirt path below.
Austin pushed ahead, deeper into tree cover. His heavy steps cracked the twigs and small branches under his feet. Stacy looked over to see him clutching his fists as they moved farther into the woods.
“I have no idea how far the old maintenance shed is back here,” Austin said, “but we’re a good distance away from Maria’s house.”
Even though the bright sunlight cast slanted rays of warmth on them, Stacy felt cold inside. She felt tired and needed rest, but there was no time to waste.
“I’m sure of this,” Stacy said. A pang in her gut convinced her that the hunch was right. “When Maria turned herself in at the police station, she claimed to be hiding out near this shed. If she were so concerned that someone connected to Brian was coming after her, why would she hide out here all night? Maria should’ve fled the scene at the first opportunity.”
Austin flexed his fist. “Especially if she thought Malik and Ruben had killed us.”
“Exactly. And why did Brian Dowdy approach the park from the back of the house? He had to know we’d be watching the front of the house and the park. He tried to slip into the park from the space beside the house.”
Austin looked over at Stacy and furrowed his brow. “Which means?”
“I think he came to check on Colton first. Make sure he was still alive.” Stacy locked eyes with her partner. “I know it’s a stretch, but we have to try. I told Monica I would find her son.”
The words trailed away into the open space in front of them. A clearing in the woods appeared ahead. In the middle of it stood a gable shed with a gently sloped roof that peaked with a ridge on top, although the roof sagged in the middle as if someone had sat on it. All of the four windows were encased in glass, but it was wavy and yellowed by time.
Stacy unholstered her Glock. Austin, who wore a Kevlar vest but had a more equipped utility belt wrapped around his waist, removed a flashlight and his Sig Sauer P226 from its holster. Austin shined a light on the front door.
“If anyone is in there,” he whispered to Stacy as they stood a few yards away, “this will get them moving.”
They listened for movements or voices. All Stacy managed to hear was the rustling of branches overhead and the earthy smell of mud and grass. The shed’s front door was sealed, but the door itself hung on its hinges at a jaunty angle. The Parks Department had sealed it with something more permanent to keep people out, the door a mere decoration. The entire shed was a rotted heap, bowing down, and chafed and broken by the cold Cleveland winters.
Stacy cut a look over at Austin. “Cover me,” she said as she pushed ahead to the front door.
The wooden steps Stacy stepped on bowed and creaked, nearly snapping in half as she stepped on them. She scanned the porch for any signs that someone had been in and out recently, but all she saw were some splotches of dried mud and dirt granules that had probably blown up on the porch during the heavy rainstorm from two nights ago.
Stacy opened the sloped and rotted door and pushed it back. Austin slid alongside it, bracing it against his back. He ran his flashlight over the surface of the door.
A faux wall had been used to seal the inside of the shed from the outside. As Stacy looked down, she saw several pieces of the drywall had been chipped away, and that jagged, sloped holes had been punctured into the material. Several holes were carved in various places along the inside of the frame, an indication the door had been opened more than once.
The edging of the door was yellowed as well. Stacy raked a finger across one of the holes and found that material brittle. It wouldn’t take much for someone to get inside the shed, given the condition of the door.
Stacy looked back at Austin and held up three fingers. He nodded slowly in response. Stacy held her breath and clenched her gun in her hand. With one shoulder, she leaned into the fake wall, knocking it back against the frame.
Austin shined a light inside the shed, running up and down the four sides.
Stacy’s voice nearly croaked when she looked up at the far back wall.
Pinned against it was Colton DeVito.