Bad Land Read Online Free PDF Page B

but he had never given it a second glance while passing through. He had never really noticed the unkempt lawns, the bar-like gates in front of almost every house, or the general foreboding feeling that pervaded the area. Marshall passed a few cars as the morning traffic died down and came to a stop near the curve in the road where Barbara’s body had first been discovered.
    The canyon was located on the outskirts of the county. The road was beaten, and besides the few houses that were found on either side of the street, dispersed seemingly at will, there was nothing to see. The road served to connect two cities, but was more of a local short cut than a well traveled highway. It spanned three miles, with side roads leading off deeper into the canyon every so often. At night it was poorly lit by a few wooden, outdated streetlights.
    He put the car in park, and with a second thought, decided to bring George along. The beagle happily leaped at the opportunity and his short paws padded beside Marshall as the two made their way along the shoulder of the road.
    The pavement was dark gray and cracked, the shoulders of the road made out of hard packed dirt. The exact area where the body had been found was almost located dead center in the canyon. Marshall was certain he had found the right spot when dark black spatterings on the gravel road met his eyes. The spots were undoubtedly patches of dried blood.
    George tugged at his leash as he sniffed the ground, pulling Marshall nearer to the death scene. Marshall kept him back, well clear of the road and dried patches of blood. Marshall shielded his eyes with his free hand as he looked up and down the lonely street. There were no houses nearby, just dirt and rough looking shrubbery. Marshall walked up and down his side of the road, then crossed it and walked up and down the opposite end.
    What would have caused a young girl to be out here by herself in the middle of the night? Had her car broken down? No, there was no mention of that in the report.
    Besides the dry patches of blood, there was nothing to go on. No paths in the underbrush, no footprints or clues that Marshall could see. Nothing. The only option he had left was to see if anyone in the area had noticed anything peculiar that night. Maybe someone had seen something out of the ordinary. Even if Detective Lanner had questioned the residents like he said, maybe someone would tell Marshall something they were too afraid to tell the police.
    There were only four houses that stood remotely close to the area… three further up the road and one near where he had parked his car. Marshall decided to try the three that stood together first.
    The closest house was anything but inviting, with tall weeds and an almost non-existent paint job. Marshall gently knocked on the door. There was no response. He rang the doorbell and waited. Nothing. Just as he was about to turn and walk away, the door handle turned and clicked. An old woman looked at him from behind a mess of dark gray and black hair. The hair fell down almost like a curtain, hiding most of the woman’s face.
    Marshall fought to regain his composure as George let out a low growl deep in his chest. “Oh, hello. My name is Marshall. I’m with the local town newspaper, the Hermes .” Marshall extended a hand but the woman just looked at it as though she had never shaken hands before.
    Marshall drew back his extended palm as the old women opened her toothless mouth. “What is it that you want? You know I have No Trespassing signs on my fence.”
    “Oh, right. I just had a few questions about the young girl that was found dead yesterday mor—”
    The old woman shut the door in his face before he could even finish the word. Marshall frowned. Apparently he had struck some kind of chord. The woman had to know something to react in such a rude manner. He knocked on the door again and again but the woman wouldn’t answer. After what felt like an eternity, he looked at George.