Page 10 of Little Child Gone

“Sure. Are you ready for the tour?”

Nikki put on her gloves and followed him outside. “I assume you guys haven’t had time to explore the property much?”

“Not really,” Matt answered. “I know that Karl’s grandfather planted the maples. The white building next to the house is where the machinery business started, and that old barn over there is ready to fall.” He pointed to the once grand Swedish barn south of the house.

“Did Spencer say why it had taken so long to settle the estate?”

Nikki pulled her hood up, buttoning it snugly beneath her chin as she and Matt walked across the driveway to the dilapidated machinery building. The snow continued to fall, the flakes getting heavier.

“He just said issues with the will because of the addendum. He said he thought his mom was going to have a stroke during the whole saga,” Matt said. “His mom is a criminal defense attorney, used to snapping her fingers and getting her way, I guess.”

“What’s Spencer like?” Nikki asked.

Matt shrugged. “He’s nice. He started at the fire department a couple of years before Karl died. He was in the nursing home then. But I know there were major issues between Spencer’s mom, Stephanie, and Karl. I guess they never really got along.”

“And Karl had a son, Spencer’s uncle, right?”

“Patrick lives in Texas,” Matt said. “He’s a retired army major, I think. He was stationed at Fort Hood. I met him at the memorial service. Seemed a lot more down to earth than Spencer’s mom.” He glanced at Nikki.

“You really don’t like her, do you?” Nikki said, smiling.

“My attorney said she’s one of the worst people he’s dealt with, and this was my parents’ attorney. So, he’s been around. Spencer even calls her a pain in the ass,” Matt answered. “By the way, I have a shift tonight and I’ll see Spencer. You want me to have him call you?”

Nikki debated keeping Spencer in the dark until she spoke to him but decided against it. He might be their only ally in the Hendrickson family, and right now they needed information. “Actually, why don’t you see if he can meet us out here tomorrow so Miller can be part of the conversation? I’d like to talk to your attorney, too, since he handled the sale.”

Matt took his phone out. “I’m texting you my attorney’s number right now.”

“Thanks.” Nikki put her head down against the increasing wind. She walked over to the old, white building. It still had a faint outline of “Hendrickson Machinery, 1899” on the old cement. “So this is where the business started?”

“Yeah,” Matt answered. “I think it operated out of here for a long time before getting the bigger building in Stillwater. And then they expanded into Minneapolis and St. Paul. Spencer said his grandpa didn’t want this building torn down. It’s a huge part of the county’s history. It’s got structural issues, but I think it can be saved. It’s older than the barn and an important part of history. Karl’s great-grandfather was the primary machinist in this area for a long time, so he did work for pretty much every farmer around. But it’s not safe to go inside. The barn isn’t either,” Matt told her. “I took the drone through both of them when we first moved in.”

“Send me the videos, please.” Nikki peered through the broken-glass window of the old Hendrickson Machinery shop. It was mostly empty save for a couple of large, rusted machines. The roof had fallen in near the back of the building.

A massive oak tree blocked most of their view of the barn. “That’s an old Swedish barn, too. I bet it was in better shape when Karl was alive.” Nikki hated seeing history tossed aside to rot.

“Probably. There are pictures of the original house and stuff inside. They were still hanging in the breezeway when we bought it. Guess the kids didn’t want them.” He stopped at the barn’s entrance. “You can go in a little bit so you can actually see inside. Just don’t go far. The wind could take this thing down.”

Nikki stepped a couple of feet into the right side of the barn, her eyes adjusting to the light. The barn still smelled of old hay and very faint manure. Like the machine shop, little remained in the barn beyond the stalls and some junk. She debated going in further. “Did you get any actual footage in here?”

“Yeah, there’s video, but it’s dark. I flew lower so I wouldn’t slam into anything,” Matt answered. “I’m not sure how well you can see the floor.”

“Send me what you have,” Nikki said. “The sheriff’s office can bring their drone as well, but I’m not sure how much more we’ll be able to see.” If there were other victims on the property, the K9 would have to find them.

“What’s that?” Nikki pointed to the black-iron fence behind the barn. Dead weeds blew in the cold breeze.

“Family graveyard,” Matt said. “It’s morbidly cool. If you like history.”

“I do.” And a cemetery like this would be a fantastic place to leave additional victims. Nikki could see the headstones among the weeds.

“Three generations, including Karl.” Matt wrestled with the gate for a few moments before finally pushing it open.

“Karl Hendrickson’s in this cemetery?” Nikki counted more than a dozen stones, but they were all old.

Matt pointed to the maple tree in the corner of the family cemetery. “He wanted his ashes spread around that tree. Guess he and his mother planted it.”

“Did his kids put up a marker of any kind?”

“Nope,” Matt said. “Like I said, they weren’t close, as far as I know.”

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