Timothy tapped his fingers on his truck’s steering wheel. “I hope I’m not wrong about this.”
Mabel leaned her head over the backseat, so that I could pat her head. I slid a glance at Timothy. “Now you are having doubts?”
He shrugged. “It’s the only place I can think of where Billy could hide in the county and feel at home.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s twenty minutes away. There’s an old auto parts factory off Route 13 close to Fredericktown. It closed down ten years ago. I’m wondering if Billy didn’t gather most of the parts he stashed in the Gundy barn from this factory. The company went under big time and everything was sold piecemeal at rock-bottom prices. I got three parts for the truck I owned back then for twenty dollars. Anywhere else it would have cost me hundreds.”
“What did the factory make?”
“Rearview mirrors, headlights, and other small parts.”
Timothy passed the exit for Fredericktown but turned left off 13 before we reached Mount Vernon, the county seat. The drive was smooth and quiet. “Wow. This route is better paved than most around here,” I said.
“The auto parts company had it repaved so that their workers could make it into work even during the worst Ohio winter. Unfortunately, that didn’t save the company.”
A large red brick building came into view a half-mile down the road. Timothy drove the pickup through a gate with ice-covered hinges. The galvanized chain, its lock broken, hung listlessly from the fence. He brought the truck to a stop in front of the building, or at least what I thought was the front. It was hard to tell. Snow blew in through the broken windows. Dead ivy caked in ice snaked up the four corners of the building while overgrown evergreen bushes grew over the windows on the first floor.
Timothy sighed. “Signs of the rust belt,” he said.
“I’m from Cleveland, remember, and there are parts of the city that have four or five burned-out factories like this. Lots are being reclaimed for fancy apartment buildings and small business suites though.”
Timothy removed his key from the ignition. “That kind of transformation isn’t going to happen in Knox County. There aren’t enough people to live in those fancy apartments or shop at those upscale businesses. The building will sit empty until the elements eventually knock it to the ground.”
“Looks like the elements are halfway there. Do you really think Billy could be staying inside? How could he survive? With all those broken windows he must be half-frozen by now.”
Timothy placed his hand on the door handle. “I can’t think of anywhere else he might be. He’s a big guy and a loner. There aren’t many places he can hide this deep into Amish Country without someone noticing. The Amish would never hide him, knowing his connection to Katie’s death.”
I pulled my pink hat farther down over my ears. “Let’s go, then.”
“I want Mabel to wait in the truck.” He pointed at the busted windows. “There’s going to be a lot of broken glass in there, and I don’t want her paws cut.”
My heart melted a little at Timothy’s concern for his dog. Mabel seemed to understand what he said because she settled onto her haunches in the backseat. She didn’t look particularly disappointed about staying behind. “Doesn’t look like she’s going to argue with you,” I said.
Timothy laughed. “I didn’t expect her too.” He opened his door and got out. I followed.
Our boots crunched across the frozen earth. Tall bushes blocked the entrance, and I didn’t see how we were going to get inside. “Where’s the door?”
“There.” He pointed to a cluster of overgrown bushes. Stacks of snow six inches high sat precariously on the branches. They didn’t look like they had been disturbed in the last millennium.
“He can’t be in there. You’d need a machete to break through those branches. It’s clear no one has entered the building through that door in the last decade.”
“He must have gotten inside another way,” Timothy said, not giving up on his idea that this was Billy’s hideout. Who was I to question him? He knew Billy better than I did.
“If you really think he’s in there, maybe we should call Chief Rose, and she and her officers can search the building.”
He placed a hand on my cheek. “Chloe, he’s my friend. I owe it to him to ask him myself before I hand him over to Greta.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s walk around the building and find another way inside. It should be pretty obvious. Billy’s built like a garbage truck.”
The bushes thinned out as we rounded the back side of the building. A metal door stood open a crack. Timothy’s face brightened.
I touched his shoulder. “But there aren’t any footprints.”
“It has been snowing pretty hard. If he came through this way, they would be covered by now.”
Timothy placed his gloved hand onto the metal door. It didn’t move. He pushed a little harder. It didn’t budge. “Back up,” he said.
I took a big step backward.
Timothy rammed his shoulder into the door, and it opened just wide enough for him to squeeze inside. His hand appeared in the door opening, so I took hold of it and stepped through.
I stood beside Timothy for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. It was a shock after being outside with the sun glaring off the snow.
Timothy’s laughter echoed throughout the hollow space.
“What?”
“It would help if you removed your sunglasses.”
I touched my face. “Oh, right.” I tucked them in the inside pocket of my ski jacket, then grinned at him. “Much better.”
He squeezed my hand.
“Should we keep our voices down? He might hear us.” My voice reverberated off of the walls just like Timothy’s laughter had.
“I’m not sure it matters. The quietest whisper seems to cause an echo in here.”
Shards of glass the size of my leg and jagged pieces of metal covered the dusty concrete floor. Chains that used to transport heavy pieces of equipment hung from the ceiling, resembling instruments of torture. I wrapped my arms around myself. “This place could double for the set of a horror movie.”
“I’ve never seen a horror movie.”
I shivered. “Trust me, after coming here, you don’t need to.” I stepped over a rusted bar. “Where could Billy be? I certainly wouldn’t want to spend more than five minutes in this place. It gives me the creeps.”
“He has to be in here somewhere,” Timothy said.
“Why do you think that? Did he talk about this place? Did he come here a lot after it closed?”
Timothy set his jaw. “I know Billy, and he’s most at home around cars. There’s no other place like this in the county.”
“Chief Rose thinks he left the area and found a new place to hide.”
“That would have been the smart thing to do, but I’m betting he didn’t do the smart thing. I know this, though—Billy didn’t kill Katie Lambright. My guess is that he will hang around until Chief Rose arrests someone else.”
I wasn’t so sure. Billy ran before, why wouldn’t he run again? I lowered my voice. “You think he’s looking for the killer?” The image of Billy, three hundred pounds with bright red hair, sneaking around and spying on Amish farms didn’t seem to work for me. I was self-conscious in the Amish community because of my hair color and my clothing, but at least I was small.
“No. But I think he’s hanging around until his name is cleared from this crime.”
I wrinkled my brow. “He didn’t hang around Detroit.”
Timothy shook his head. “That’s because he knew he was guilty.”
Rather than argue, I said, “Let’s look for him. I’m freezing.”
Timothy nodded and we moved deeper into the factory. Every step revealed another hazard set on skewering us—from sharp metal rods to exposed nails. The windows on either side of the office door were busted. With so many broken windows in the factory, I wondered if some teenagers had broken in and used the place for target practice.
In the middle of the factory, a metal staircase rose up to the second level. “What about up there?”
Timothy tilted his head up. “The foreman’s office. It does look like the most likely place for Billy to hide. You stay down here, and I’ll go up.”
The rusted stairs looked like they would give under my cat’s weight. “Are you sure the staircase will hold you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Timothy placed a foot on the step and the rusted metal gave way beneath him.
I rushed over. “Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?”
“I’m okay,” Timothy said, breathing hard. “Good thing it’s winter, and I’m wearing a lot of layers. The metal didn’t even touch me.” He glanced down at his torn pant leg. “I can’t say the same for my jeans.”
I grabbed Timothy by both of his arms to help him balance and he pulled his leg free of the metal. He brushed off his leg. “We need to be more careful.”
“You’re not going to be able to go up there. You’re too heavy. I’ll go up.”
He shook his head. “No way. If the stairs can’t hold me, there is no way they held Billy.”
“We can’t come all the way here and not check.”
Timothy pursed his lips.
I squeezed his arm. “I’ll be up and down before you know it.”
Timothy started breathing hard. “No.”
“Timothy, what . . .” And then I realized what was bothering him. I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Nothing like Aaron’s accident is going to happen to me.”
His eyes widened. “How did you know that I was thinking of Aaron?”
I cinched him closer. “Because I know you.”
He kissed the top of my head. “I know you too.” He tilted my chin up. “You’re going up there, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Okay. Be careful.” He removed the flashlight clipped to his belt and handed it to me.
“I’m always careful.”
He rolled his eyes, reminding me of Becky.
I skipped over the demolished first step and moved to the second one. It gave a fraction of an inch, but it held my weight. I moved to the next step. The higher up I went, the more stable the stairs became. I hopped onto the landing and waved to Timothy a floor below.
“Hurry up,” he said, the expression on his face strained.
I moved along the landing to the office door, which was open halfway, and I pushed it in the rest of the way with my boot. The room was dank and smelled of sour milk. I felt the wall for the light switch and flicked it on. Nothing happened. I should have remembered that electricity to the building had been cut off years before.
I shone the flashlight around the room. There was no sign anyone had been inside the office for decades. Beyond the first room was a second door that led into an inner office. I picked my way across the room and tried the doorknob. It turned easily.
It wasn’t an office but a large closet. Three wire hangers hung from a wooden pole, and empty cardboard boxes lay on their sides. I sighed. Timothy would be disappointed I took the unnecessary risk of checking the second floor to find nothing. I was beginning to believe that Billy wasn’t inside the factory and never had been there. Chief Rose was right. He was halfway to Mexico by now.
I closed the closet door and left the room. I stood on the landing and waved to Timothy.
“Did you find anything?” he called.
“No.” I moved along the landing to the next door. It opened into another office suite. This one was laid out identically to the first. Thankfully, it didn’t smell as badly, but it was in the same disarray as its matching office. I opened the closet door and shone the flashlight into the tiny space. The light bounced off a large orange duffel bag. I looked closer. Curt had said that Billy took an orange duffel bag when he left. There was also a small stockpile of canned food and dozens of empty beer bottles. A shiver overtook me. Timothy was been right—Billy had been camping out in the factory.
Still, I couldn’t understand how he got up to the landing. How had the stairs held his weight when they couldn’t hold Timothy’s?
I backed out of the office to the landing.
“Find anything?” Timothy asked.
“Yes. Billy’s not here, but I found his stuff.” I paused. “He’s living here.”
“Great. You should come down now.”
I pointed to the last door. “There’s one more.”
Timothy blew air out of his mouth. “Okay, but be quick.”
As I moved to the last door, the landing narrowed slightly. I realized it was because a large piece of it had broken off and fallen to the floor below. Carefully, I tried the handle of the third door. It wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked,” I called down to Timothy.
“Okay, we’ve been here long enough. Come down.”
Tentatively, I made my way back across the landing and to the staircase. I placed my foot on the first step and a bolt gave way. I gasped. The staircase crashed to the floor. I gripped the hand rail and pulled myself back onto the landing, my heart inside of my throat. Dust from the factory floor billowed into my face. I scrambled to my feet. “Timothy!”
He coughed as the dust settled. “Are you okay?” His voice was sharp with concern.
I took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m fine.”
I stood twenty feet above him. Jumping down on the shard-covered concrete floor was not an option. “There must be another staircase down.”
“Was there an exit through the offices? Maybe there is back way out.”
I gripped the railing. “No for the first two, and the third one is locked.”
“We need to call for help then,” Timothy said.
“I think it’s time to call the chief.”
Timothy grimaced. “Let me try Danny first. He can bring the extension ladder from our house.”
Why was Timothy so reluctant to call the Appleseed Creek police chief? Should I call her myself? I was about to ask him both of those questions when Timothy removed his cell phone from his pocket. “There’s no reception in here. We’re too deep into the factory. I’m going to have to go outside.”
I removed my cell from my pocket and found the same thing.
Timothy’s forehead creased. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you up there.”
“I’ll be fine. You’ll only be gone for a few minutes. No one is here, including Billy.”
He grimaced. “Don’t move.”
I lowered my chin. “Where would I go?”
He shook his head and walked back toward the entrance to the factory. I sat in front of the third office door, leaning my back against it, and hoped it wouldn’t be a long wait for Danny to bring the ladder. I wished I had told Timothy to call Tee while he was outside. I didn’t want her to worry when we did not return back at the expected time.
I heard a sound behind me, and strained to identify it. Just then, the door flew open in toward the office and I fell on my back. Hands grabbed me by both of my wrists and dragged me into the dark office.