Page 25 of The Ice Sisters

He took a step back, seemingly surprised by the force of her voice and the angry glare she shot him.

“Sorry, lady.”

She exhaled, realizing a little girl passing by was watching and softened her tone. “I’ll come back when I’m finished.” When the case was over.

One tent held wood crafters using various tools, and she walked over to the entrance. Rows of chairs offered interested guests seating to watch the artists in progress.

Ellie spotted a man carving a series of wildlife figures that were common in the area. A hawk, wolf and a wild bear set against the jagged rocks on the mountain. She studied his hands which held scars and bruises. His jowls looked as if he had rocks in his cheeks, his neck sagging like a rooster’s. “Interesting work,” she said, noting his carving knife. “How did you get into carving?”

“From my old man. He was a hunter and took me with him on the trail. He brought his kills home, then carved a likeness of them with wood as his medium.”

Remembering that Modelle transported animals to petting zoos, she veered toward that area. She doubted he was here now since she’d just seen him at his house, but maybe someone had insight about him. Kids and adults were enjoying the goats, calves and ponies. She searched for Modelle but she didn’t see him.

She approached one of the workers. “Does a man named Larry Modelle transport the animals here?”

“Sure does. He helped set up the zoo, but our volunteers man it.” The woman gestured toward the makeshift barn and stalls they’d erected. “The local vet checks the animals each day to make sure they’re healthy. Mr. Modelle comes in once a day to feed them.”

“Has he been in today?”

“It’s usually later when we shut down the zoo for the day.”

“What time is that?” Ellie asked.

“Six p.m. We don’t want to overwork the animals.”

“Understood. Thank you.” Ellie made a mental note to go back to his house after six. Maybe she could sneak a peek in the outbuildings while he was gone.

TWENTY-EIGHT

SAW MILL ROAD

As Ellie drove toward Crooked Creek, she phoned Derrick and he relayed what he’d learned about the car. “I’m heading to the address for the owner, a man named Thomas Thacker.”

“I’ll meet you at the house. Just text me the address.”

“Will do.”

She ended the call, plugged the address from the text into her GPS, then headed in that direction. The slushy roads made for slow going, and darkness had set in, stars twinkling, the moon trying to break through the clouds, promising a clear night. The snowplows must have been up bright and early clearing the main road, two-feet snow drifts flanking the sides of the streets. Odd to believe a blizzard had struck the night before, stranding cars and hikers and even herself.

She maneuvered around a fallen tree and climbed the mountain toward Saw Mill Road. When the saw mill was in operation, mountain homes had once filled the landscape but now some had been abandoned and looked rundown and shabby.

The woods were thick, snow and icicles clinging to the tips, the limbs bowing with the weight of the snow. The snowplows hadn’t made it this far up the mountain and the road wasslippery and still thick with snow. Tire tracks in the road indicated another car had recently come this way. Grateful for her four-wheel drive, she chugged along. Just as she reached the turn-off to the house, her phone buzzed.

She pressed accept call on the Bluetooth screen and answered. “Shondra?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“Is the woman talking?”

“No, she’s gone.”

“What?”

“The nurse went in to check on her, but she wasn’t in her room.”

“Did the doctor release her?”

“No. And she was really weak and dizzy so they don’t know how she left the hospital.”

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