They found the Triumph, but not the girl.
What? Asked Crier, though he had heard every word.
The bike. My men spotted it off Route 90 outside a four unit motel. Doors straight off the parking lot, right? By the time I got there the girl was gone. Thing is . . .
What, Pontieff? Did you find something?
Well, yes. Pontieff hesitated. We found enough evidence in the room to figure we got the right girl. But it looks like a kidnapping.
Crier was getting impatient with the lack of answers he felt the sheriff should have for him.
Pontieff described the scene as he'd discovered it. The door that had been left open, the frenzied room, the smell of formaldehyde on a rag near the bed. And the female suspect had vanished but the bike had been left behind, despite some effort on her or someone else's part at not leaving it in plain sight. Both men agreed that something was off.
It appears there’s someone else involved in this little murder of ours, Crier. Christ . . . would ya tell me what the hell we're dealing with here?
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