SO LONG, page 7
It was a disappointment, that was for sure, because now Jake was stuck with no leads, no suspects. Just this tip from Fiona.
"Where should we even start?" Lauren asked, and Jake lifted his gaze to meet her green eyes. He sighed.
"I guess we should look into facilities with access to lots of freezers and cold storage," Jake said, pulling his laptop closer to him. "Warehouses, maybe."
He started typing furiously, searching for any kind of storage warehouse or facility with access to cold storage. He quickly found several potentials, and he made a list of them as Lauren looked over his shoulder.
"These might be worth checking out," Jake said, pointing at each one in turn. "We can split up the list and get to work."
Lauren nodded in agreement and grabbed her laptop, taking her seat across from him again. Jake was already typing away, scouring the internet for more information on these facilities: their sizes, their histories, everything he could find that might help him narrow down his search even further. He knew it wouldn't be easy; this killer had managed to stay under the radar for months now...but there was no way they'd get away with it anymore.
One place looked somewhat promising--an ice cream factory outside of town. But what was he thinking, that the killer was openly storing bodies there? It was possible, he supposed, if there was a manager or employee who had special access or could keep an area restricted. It felt like a shot in the dark, but he looked up records of the management at the factory to see if he'd get any hits.
Unfortunately, nothing came up. He tried to see if there were any reports of strange activity at the factory, but it seemed like a normal place. It was a dead end, and Jake felt his frustration mount as he realized that this might be the case for all of these potential places.
There was nothing. Jake had no luck in finding any suspicious activity at the factory, or any of the other places he looked into. He was starting to get frustrated; it seemed like this killer had taken every precaution to cover their tracks.
He decided to take another approach and started looking into cold storage warehouses and facilities around the city, searching for any reports of thefts or break-ins that might give him an idea of where the killer could be hiding out. But again, there was nothing that stood out as suspicious. Everything just seemed normal and mundane.
Jake kept digging, though, looking up security companies in the area that might have contracts with these warehouses and storage facilities, trying to find some kind of clue as to who might have access to them. He felt like he was getting closer--but still nothing came up that he could use.
As his frustration mounted, he started thinking about other places the killer could be storing bodies--they could just be using their own home, and buying a lot of freezers, but if that were the case, then they would likely be using a lot of electricity.
This would also be a lot to tackle, but it could be worth a shot. He wanted Lauren's opinion, though.
"Where are you at?" he asked her.
"Nowhere, really," Lauren said with a sigh. "I mean, there are a lot of warehouses around, but how do we narrow down a potential place, a potential suspect, with so many options?"
"I know." Jake sighed. "I'm having the same issue. Plus, we don't even know if the killer will have a criminal record to make him stand out among the crowd. Greg had seemed so perfect..."
"Too perfect," Lauren said. "I guess it is just a coincidence he knew both of the victims."
"Well, I have another idea," Jake said. "If someone is keeping bodies in freezers, they'd be using a lot of electricity. Maybe we should focus small first, look into some civilians. It'd make more sense for them to hide bodies in private than somewhere risky."
Lauren thought for a moment, then nodded. "That could work," she said. "It's worth a shot--especially since it would involve less legwork than trying to look at all of these warehouses, and the people who have access to them."
Jake smiled. "Exactly," he said. They could start by looking into electricity usage in the area, see if there were any households that stood out from the rest. It would take some time, but it was better than nothing. “If anyone has suspiciously high bills in their name,” he said, “we can look into their backgrounds. That way, we'll have some kind of direction to go in."
Lauren nodded in agreement, and they both got to work researching energy usage in the area, the clacking of their fingers on their keyboards filling the quiet briefing room. As Jake searched, he built a mental profile of the person in his head: probably a man, probably older, old enough to live alone and afford his own home. If he was doing nefarious deeds like this, then Jake couldn’t imagine the guy had roommates.
"We're probably looking for someone who lives alone, so that can narrow it down even more," Jake told Lauren as he pulled up energy records. There were a lot of people in Portland, and a lot of people who lived alone... this wasn't going to be easy.
He started sifting through records, looking for anyone who had an unusually high energy bill. He started slowly, going through records one by one, looking for any suspicious energy spikes or long-term increases in electricity usage. It was tedious work, but it had to be done--and luckily, with the help of computers, it wasn't too difficult. More time-consuming than anything. He was about halfway through when he found a name that made him pause: Michael Johnson. The amount of energy Mr. Johnson had used in the past six months was astronomical--more than most households would use in an entire year.
Jake quickly looked up Mr. Johnson's address and saw that though he was on Portland's power grid, he actually lived pretty far out from the city, deep in the woods. Jake's mind raced as he looked up the address in more detail, and satellite imagery showed it was a remote cabin in the woods. And it sure as hell was using a lot of power for a single guy in the middle of nowhere.
His heart pounded. Could this actually mean something? It was hard to believe such a flimsy lead could land somewhere concrete, but this remote cabin, drawing in so much power... it was beyond suspicious.
He needed to know more about the owner first. Going into the FBI database, he located Michael Johnson's file.
To his surprise, Michael Johnson had no criminal record whatsoever--not even a speeding ticket. He was a registered gun owner, but that wasn’t a crime, or even necessarily a red flag. Jake needed to know more if he were to confirm Johnson as potential suspect at all.
Quickly typing away on his keyboard, Jake dug deeper into the database, searching for any connections or clues that might help link Johnson to the murders. Nothing came up immediately, so Jake decided to take a closer look at Mr. Johnson's background and lifestyle habits.
Michael was in his late thirties and was active on social media, despite his remote lifestyle. According to his posts, he was an avid outdoorsman who spent most of his time hunting and fishing in the woods near his cabin home. Pivoting away from his public profile, Jake went back into the records and saw Michael also had several business investments listed in his name which showed sizable monthly income—more than enough money to pay for all of the electricity used at his cabin without breaking a sweat.
Jake’s suspicions grew. So, the guy was rich, and apparently social, to some degree, and yet he lived out in the woods… and drew in a lot of power. What exactly was sucking up so much juice?
"Hey, Laur, check this guy out," Jake said.
Lauren looked at him, flustered, but he hadn't even meant to drop his nickname for her--it just came out.
"What is it?" Lauren asked, coming over to look over his shoulder.
Jake opened up the satellite image of the cabin, then pulled up Michael Johnson's profile as well.
"I think I found our suspect," Jake said with a hint of confidence in his voice. "This is Michael Johnson--he lives out in the woods and he has an unusually high energy bill. It’s not enough to convict him, but could be worth checking out, especially since he’s in the middle of nowhere.”
He pointed at the cabin on the satellite map, and Lauren nodded in agreement.
"Seems like a viable option," she said. "Any criminal record?"
"Not even a little, but that doesn't mean he's clean," Jake said.
Lauren looked at him, then back at the laptop. "We should go and talk to him," she said finally.
Jake smiled and nodded in agreement. He shut down his laptop and stood up from his chair.
"Let's go," he said, already heading toward the door.
CHAPTER TEN
The dirt road crunched beneath the wheels of Jake's car as he drove through the woods, Lauren at his side. It was getting later now, and as the sun dipped toward the horizon, the light in the woods began to bleed away. They'd have another couple hours of sunlight, but shadow swallowed the woods.
The trees seemed to grow closer together as they drove, the branches forming an archway that grew tighter and tighter. Jake could feel his heart racing in anticipation of what he might find at the end of this road, but he kept a steady hand on the wheel, guiding them ever forward. Every now and then the sun would peek through the trees, casting a golden light on the forest floor.
Jake glanced at Lauren as they drove. They still had time to kill before they'd arrive, and she'd been awfully quiet. She'd been quiet with him all day, and he knew it was because of their most recent falling out. Not a professional falling out—a personal one.
It wasn't the first time they'd called off their "romance" only to continue as partners, and then things just felt awkward. They’d been hot and cold, on and off for years. This time seemed different, though. Jake didn't understand why Lauren was being as silent as she was, but it was making him sweat.
"So," he said, needing to break the ice, "you've been pretty quiet today."
She barely glanced at him, focusing on the forest outside the car. "You think so?" she muttered.
"Yeah, I do," Jake said. "What's on your mind?"
"The case," Lauren said.
But Jake knew her. He knew it was more than that.
"I don't get it, Laur," he managed. "You're the one who said we should just stop seeing each other outside of work, but now I feel like I'm getting heat off you. Or ice, more like."
Lauren shot him a glare, crossing her arms and sinking lower in the seat. "I called it off before you could, Jake. You can never commit."
"What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're the one who's hot and cold with me. One minute, you're the hottest woman in the world with me, then you turn into an ice queen."
Lauren scoffed. "Really, Jake? Any time we get too close to each other, you run away. I could feel us bonding and I just--I knew it wouldn't be long before you started to get cold feet, so I called it off."
Jake's mind raced. Did he really run away every time? They'd been doing this for so long, this on-again, off-again thing, that his memories were all scrambled. He knew that he used to be the one who'd get cold feet, but more recently, it seemed it was her.
It seemed that they were both stuck in this pattern and neither one of them could get out. Despite their differences, he still cared for her deeply, and part of him wanted to make it work. It didn’t look great for partners to date, which was part of why he’d never been comfortable coming out with it, but at the same time, he did care about Lauren.
"It's not like that," he said. "I care about you, and I want us to make this work."
Lauren just shook her head and looked out the window again. "I just don't know how much longer I can do this. Working with you, knowing we're just..."
She didn't reply, but Jake knew where she was going with it. His heart hurt. Lauren was like an addiction to him; maybe he was to her, too.
He drove on in silence, only the sound of the engine and the wind rustling through the trees to fill the car. He wished he could say something, anything, to make it better, but all he could do was keep driving.
Maybe they could find a way out of this mess. Maybe all they needed was time and space to work things out, to figure out what they really wanted from each other. He just had to hope that Lauren would be willing to give him another chance. He wasn't done with this, not by a longshot.
For now, though, they needed to work. He couldn’t spend his mental energy worrying about private matters when there was a killer out there, and it was Jake’s job to arrest him. To save whoever else he might kill.
The trees began to thin out eventually, and soon enough they'd arrived. Michael Johnson's cabin was nestled between two rolling hills, its rugged exterior looking oddly serene in the fading light. Smoke rose from its chimney in lazy spirals, and Jake had no doubt it was Michael inside.
He parked the car off to the side of the house and stepped out into the warm evening, with Lauren following close behind. He looked up at the cabin for a moment before turning back to Lauren with a determined look in his eyes.
"Ready?" he asked her. She nodded silently and walked ahead of him up to the front door, where she knocked three times before stepping back.
The two of them waited in silence for what felt like an eternity, but no one answered the door. Jake peered through the window, but all he could see was darkness beyond the thin curtains. He knocked again, calling out, "Michael?"
No response.
"Maybe he's out back?" Lauren suggested.
Jake nodded, but he had a bad feeling about this. "Let's just be careful. He's a registered gun owner."
Lauren nodded and stepped away from the door, her shoulders tense. The two of them walked around to the backyard, but there was no sign of Michael. The sun was beginning to set, casting a deep purple glow over the trees surrounding the cabin. A chill breeze blew through, carrying with it the smell of firewood and pine needles.
The yard was empty, save for a few logs neatly stacked in one corner, and an old wooden swing hung from a tree in the center. Everything else seemed still; too still for Jake's liking. He looked around uneasily, searching for any sign of Michael or anyone else who might be living here with him. But there was nothing: just an eerie silence that filled him with dread as he realized they hadn't found what they were looking for.
He sighed and trudged back to the front yard, with Lauren close behind. He looked up at the sky, which had grown darker while they were searching.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang from inside the cabin. Jake froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized what it must have been.
He grabbed Lauren's arm and pulled her back toward the car, but it was too late. The door to the cabin flew open, revealing Michael standing in the doorway with a shotgun pointed directly at them. His face was twisted into a scowl of rage and disgust as he glared at them.
"What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded in a menacing voice. Jake slowly raised his hands in surrender while Lauren stepped closer to him protectively, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"We came to talk," Jake said calmly, trying to stay calm despite the fear coursing through him. He was staring down the barrel of a shotgun, and one wrong move would end it all. "We're with the FBI. I can show you my badge."
Michael's expression softened slightly as he lowered the gun slightly and stepped out onto the porch. "Go on, then. Show me the badge."
Jake slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge, holding it up for Michael to see. He watched as Michael's eyes widened in surprise before lowering the gun completely. Relief flowed through him, thankful that wasn’t the last gun he’d ever stare down.
"I apologize," Michael said gruffly, "I didn't realize you were with the FBI."
Jake gave a slight nod before putting his badge away, though his nerves were still on high-alert. Near-death experiences were never fun, although at a certain point, he did grow numb to them.
"Put the weapon away," Lauren instructed.
Michael tossed it aside and raised both his hands. "Really, I'm sorry, I had no idea--I thought you were trespassers. I don't get a lot of people out this way."
Still shaken-up, Jake nodded, eyeing Michael, trying to assess if there was still danger. Jake could whip out his gun and keep it on him, but Michael showed no signs of hostility anymore. He was a gruff man with a beard and a plaid flannel shirt, but he had honest eyes. Jake’s worries eased.
"We're here to ask you a few questions about a case we're working on," Jake said. "What other weapons do you have in your home?"
"I'm a hunter, I've got a few rifles in the garage, a handgun by my bed, but the shotgun there, I keep by the door in case of an intruder." Michael kept his posture non-threatening. "Really, I mean you no harm. I respect my government."
Jake glanced at Lauren to gauge how she felt--if she thought it was safe to let their guard down. Jake ultimately decided they would continue on, but he was ready to whip out his own gun if he needed to defend either himself or Lauren.
"May we come in?" Jake asked.
Michael stepped aside and waved them in. "Yes, of course. Please, come in."
Jake and Lauren stepped into the cabin, their eyes drawn to the rustic décor. The walls were lined with wood paneling and a large stone fireplace was situated in the corner of the room. Two leather armchairs sat near a window that overlooked a lake in the distance. In the center of the room was a long wooden table surrounded by four chairs – along with various books and trinkets, obviously used as decorations by Michael.
The kitchen was located off to one side, filled with all sorts of pots and pans hanging from hooks on the wall along with other cooking utensils scattered around. A few dishes were washed up in the sink while a pot of soup bubbled away on the stovetop.
At the back of the cabin was an open doorway leading to Michael's bedroom where he kept his single bed covered with a patchwork quilt, his gun safe visible against one wall next to an old dresser filled with clothes. A small bathroom adjoined this space but Jake couldn't quite see what it looked like from where he stood.
No sign of any freezers. Yet.
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