Conspiracy

137

Lia realized she’d been mistaken when she looked for Amanda Rauci outside of Pine Plains. The police chief wouldn’t want her body discovered, certainly — but if it were, he’d want to be the one to control any investigation.

So surely he would have found a hiding place in his own village.

Pine Plains had been settled in the late seventeenth century, its main streets and principal boundaries laid out well before the country gained its in de pen dence. Because of that, there was relatively little undeveloped land in the village.

The biggest parcel, about two acres, was behind the old gro-cery store at the edge of town. The store, shuttered for several years, had a back lot overgrown with weeds and small trees. Trash dotted the area. But there was no body, or signs that the ground had been disturbed.

Next, Lia looked at some wooded lots near the school. It surprised her to find that these were spotless, without litter or even cigarette butts; either students in general had changed since she was a kid, or they were much more conscientious about trash in Pine Plains.

Finally, she scoured the creek bed that ran through the southwest corner of town. All she got for her effort was wet sneakers.

By three o’clock, she decided that it was useless. She checked in with the Art Room, then went over to the police station to see if Chief Ball had called in.

“Now, hon, I told you I would call,” said the dispatcher.

“Did I call?”

“My phone’s been off.” Lia glanced around the station.

There ought to be something here, she thought, some sign she should be able to interpret. “So he hasn’t come in?”

“Haven’t heard a peep.”

“That’s unusual, right?”

“Very.” The dispatcher lowered her voice. “Chief Ball is working with you? His wife said—”

“No.”

“And you really don’t know where he is? He’s not…” She let her voice trail off.

“No,” said Lia. “But the longer he’s gone, the worse it looks.

Is there anyone you can think of who might not like him?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” said the dispatcher. Her face reddened slightly. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I called in Sergeant Snow to cover things.

He’ll be in around four, if you want to talk to him.” Lia nodded. “If you were going to hide something big—

the size of a large suitcase or trunk, say — where would you hide it? It would be around town somewhere, somewhere most people wouldn’t look.”

“Is that what the chief is looking for?”

“No. It has nothing to do with him.” Lia leaned down on the dispatcher’s desk, as if she were truly contemplating an impossible question. “Can’t be in your house. It’s not in your office—”

Lia stopped herself. Why not in his office?

Or rather, his building.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Lia asked.

“Down the hall, near the stairs.”

As soon as Lia saw the freezer at the bottom of the steps, she knew she’d found Amanda Rauci. Lia pulled the lock pick set out of her belt and went to work on the lock. She had it open within thirty seconds. Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and pulled open the door to the freezer.

A stack of ice pops, covered with frost, sat on one side.

Opposite it was a small aluminum foil — wrapped package with a handwritten label that read: “Venison, ’06.” Otherwise the freezer was empty.

“Where do you keep the deer meat that the chief butchers?” Lia asked Mrs. Ball a short time later.

“The meat’s long gone now,” said the chief’s wife. “We had the last of it in February. I made venison steak for Valen-tine’s Day.”

“But until it’s all eaten?”

“Well, in the garage. We have a freezer.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

Confused, Mrs. Ball started to leave the house to show her the way.

“I think I want to do this alone,” Lia told her.

Mrs. Ball started to tremble. Lia thought she might collapse. But a policeman’s wife had to have a reserve of strength to survive, and she called on it now, pulling herself together.

“You’ll need the key,” she told Lia, going to the kitchen to get it.

when the key that the chief’s wife gave Lia didn’t work, Lia knew she was finally right. She forced her emotions away as she picked the lock.

A pair of ice trays sat over a black garbage bag at the top of the chest.

Amanda Rauci lay beneath the bag.