Page 45 of Vanish From Sight
Lena’s Mazda headed north up Route 86, following the winding road toward Harristown. She glanced at her phone as the van moved along the road. Eventually it slowed and took a hard right and then stopped.
Five minutes later, she closed in on a large farmhouse set back from the road just off Wellsprings Road. She pulled to the side of the road, feeling a sense of unease. A sprawling field stretched before her, the long grass swaying gently in the breeze. Trees hedged in the farm, casting long shadows over the landscape.
Getting out, Lena locked the Mazda and climbed over a country-style fence, navigating her way through dense forest. Leaves crunched below her boots as she got closer. Nearer to the tree line, she had a good view of the farmhouse and noticed several outbuildings. They looked neglected with peeling paint and rusted metal roofs. Lena could hear the sound of barking coming from within.
She dug into her bag, took out her long-lens Canon camera and began snapping shots.
She had to get closer. It was the only way to be sure. She was well aware that she was trespassing. It wouldn’t have been the first time. To nail a story, she had to go outside of the norm, bend the rules. In her mind as long as no one was hurt, she wasn’t harming anyone.
About to duck out, she saw the woman come out of the house and return to her van. She collected the two puppies and carried them into the house. Lena could hear swearing coming from inside.
Not wasting any time, Lena hurried across the field up to one of the outbuildings. She eased the door open and peered in. There was no one there but from front to back it was filled with cages. Pups yapped hard, clawing at their cramped quarters, their eyes pleading for help. Lena began taking photos. She photographed the filthy conditions.
The smell was overpowering.
It stank of animal waste, soil and vegetation.
As she made her way around the property, Lena saw the extent of the operation. There were dozens of malnourished dogs. Each one looked terrified. She snapped a few more photos, capturing every detail.
“We’re meant to get another delivery of dogs this evening,” someone said.
Lena’s eyes widened. She ducked behind a stack of old tires and wood, hidden out of view. Her heart skipped a beat as the door creaked opening and heavy footsteps followed.
“Magnus! How many times do I need to tell you? You have to lock the door.”
“Sorry.”
Peeking through a gap in the tires, she saw a middle-aged man. He had a weathered look from spending long hours outdoors in the sun, wind and rain. He wore overalls, a plaid shirt and a pair of yellowed work boots.
He looked disgusted. He hauled over a large bag of food, cut it wide and poured some into each cage with little regard to the dogs inside. When he was done, he dropped the bag, then kicked one of the cages. He mumbled something incoherently then she heard the threat. “Keep yapping and you won’t see tomorrow.”
Lena felt a surge of anger, but also a deep sense of fear. She was afraid he might walk to the back of the building and discover her.
Fortunately, he turned and walked out.
With enough photos taken, she filmed the rest on her phone and headed for the door. A quick shove with her shoulder on the door then dread set in.
It was locked.
13
Monday, November 21, 6:10 p.m.
The panic was unmistakable.
Noah was having a meal at Peak 46, going over what they had so far and waiting on a call from High Peaks Academy, when Tanya phoned. He let it go to voicemail but when she called a second time, he answered.
“Whatever it is, Tanya, it’ll have to wait because—”
“Is he with you?” she asked, quickly cutting him off. There was an edge to her tone.
“What?”
“Ray.”
“No. Why…?”
“I can’t find him.”
