He heard a skittering sound at his feet; he looked down and saw half a dozen startled barn rats scatter in every direction. He quickly reached out to silence the dog, but Trygg just stared at the rats disinterestedly, as if they were nothing but dust balls blowing across the floor. To Nick’s surprise he was able to see reasonably well; the old plank roof was so thoroughly split and cracked that it allowed long shafts of moonlight to illuminate the floor, and the dust that lingered in the air made the beams of light appear almost solid—like the columns of a great stone building.

He looked around the barn; it appeared to have been abandoned long ago—just another decorative element on the Bradens’ faux farm. The stalls that lined the walls were empty except for a crumbling hay rake and a few other relics rusting from decades of disuse. The floor was compacted dirt covered by a thin layer of scattered straw. The walls were bare except for the occasional coil of rope or dust-encrusted oil lantern; there seemed to be no bins or closets of any kind—no place where a body might be concealed—but Nick still allowed the dog time to wander the barn and sniff each corner thoroughly.

Nothing.

They squeezed out the door and Nick carefully eased it shut again. He looked around the grounds; there were only a couple of outbuildings left and he was beginning to lose hope. Maybe he was wrong; maybe Riddick wouldn’t have taken a chance on bringing Alena here. Maybe he did dump her body somewhere along the way, knowing that it would eventually be discovered but counting on the fact that no one would connect the murder to him. Riddick was probably right—there was no physical evidence that would implicate him. Nick’s rental car, wherever it turned up, would probably be found wiped clean of prints—and there would be no evidence at Alena’s trailer except for the tire tracks from Nick’s own vehicle. There were bullets that could be recovered from the two dead dogs, but Riddick wasn’t stupid enough to hang on to the gun—they’d never get a ballistics match. What was Nick supposed to tell the authorities—“I know he did it because a dog told me”? He could level the accusation, he could try to raise suspicion, but he knew none of it would stick.

He walked slowly toward the next of the outbuildings with Trygg by his side. There was nothing else to do but finish what he had started— but he had the sinking feeling that he was finished already.