There had to be someplace on the property to conceal the corpse, however. Possibly under all the chicken shit Emmett had complained about finding when he first rented the place. If it already stunk to high heaven, as Emmett claimed, and the ranch was as remote as it had appeared when Lyman looked it up on Google Earth via the laptop Terry brought to the hospital, he just might get away with it.

The address Emmett had provided wasn’t difficult to locate. A high chain-link fence enclosed the property, and the gate was padlocked, making it clear the ranch was no longer in business.

Weeds grew rampant in the small plot of grass and shrubs that had once created a more attractive entrance to the store at the front of the processing plant, and an air of general neglect hovered over everything.

Lyman drove past without stopping. He liked what he saw. The pictures he’d viewed on the Internet seemed both recent and accurate, but he wanted to take a closer look and he could do that more quietly on foot.

Once he hid his car down the road, he got the sack of tools and other items he’d bought from the hardware store after he landed and used a pair of bolt cutters to remove the padlock on the front gate.

As soon as he slipped inside, he could see the blue van in the carport, which came as a relief. Emmett had kept his word. He was still here. Thank goodness!

There were other things to be grateful for, too. Not only had Emmett found the perfect location, he’d been a plumber at one time, able to see to the necessary adjustments, like making sure the cooler was properly ventilated and had a flushing toilet.

Bishop hid the bolt cutters in the weeds and avoided the front of the building, where he could be seen through the many windows of the storefront, and walked slowly around to the back.

Sure enough, Emmett had only one way of getting in or out of the building, just as he’d said. When the chicken ranch went out of business, the owner had boarded up the back door to discourage vagrants from breaking in, and Emmett had said it was unwise to remove those boards, adding that more security was better than less.

Lyman had to agree, although it did make what he had in mind for Emmett a bit more difficult.

He decided to find the henhouse where Emmett was keeping the dogs and bang on the walls to rile them up. When Emmett came out to see what was going on, he’d step up behind him and stab him in the back. Then he’d drag his body inside the coop and, when the dogs got hungry enough, maybe they’d take care of the disposal part of the process.

Done. Easy.

Except that riling up the dogs didn’t bring Emmett out as expected.

Was he sleeping? Getting high? What was going on?