"The shipments were checked in at a warehouse in Woodville. It's a small farm town on the southeast end of Point Reyes."
Following Mike's explanation, a thin file folder landed on Steve's desk, the first page showing an ordinary delivery receipt for the goods along with a signature.
John Smith, of course.
"From there they could have loaded everything onto trucks and moved it to a nearby facility."
"Cold storage facilities in a farm town…", Mike sighed and rubbed his forehead in agitation, "Talk about finding a needle in the haystack. Any of the food processing facilities between San Francisco and Woodville could be a potential location."
Both detectives fell quiet for a few moments, their eyes drifting back to the file, its only content thus far the image of the receipt, the delivery address and a fake name.
It wasn't much to go on in a case that was growing bloodier by the day, a case where the final fatality count could most definitely reach several dozen if they didn't manage to track down the illusive and ruthless band of men responsible for the slaughter.
Add in the startling kidnapping of Claire Gifford and their abstract puzzle just became an awful lot more complex.
"You still don't think we should bring Ellis in here? Sweat her a bit?"
"Mhm hm. I don't think that'll do it. If anything, it could cause this guy…or these guys in the green sedan to become even more…convincing that they want us to stop digging in their sandbox. Honestly, these guys are pro's. They're not going to give her any information we could use to track them down. I bet she never even talked to the actual doctors face to face or…quote…toured the facility. No…they've murdered too many people to be careless when it comes to customers and giving away names or addresses."
"Yeah, I guess you're right…"
Leaning back in his office chair, Steve sighed, his busy eyes tracing the ceiling, one hand nervously digging for a sunflower seed in his pant pocket.
"The day is still young. I guess nothing prevents us from heading up to Woodville. Take a look around. Ask some questions. See what kind of a playing field we're dealing with here. I'll let Devitt know what we're up to so that there's a…a safety net in case things go south."
Tapping the file with his outstretched hand, Mike was about to continue when the door to the glass walled vestibule opened with a powerful thrust, drawing the attention of all detective in the bullpen toward the entrance.