Page 103 of Gunner

With a nod, I signaled the team of officers to move in. I had my firearm drawn, as did the others, although I had little expectation of catching our criminal here today. He wouldn’t have sent me that picture if he’d planned to stick around. But maybe…just maybe he wouldn’t have expected us to show up so soon and was still somewhere in the building.

As a part of the entry team, we breached the threshold first, moving through the creaking open front door. Inside the abandoned store, the air was stale, reeking of mildew and decay. Shelves, now barren, lined the walls like skeletal remains of a once thriving livelihood. Each step we took kicked up a cloud of dust. The floorboards were warped and rotting in places with nails poking up. The only light came from our flashlights and whatever sunlight slipped through the thick film of dust coating the windows.

I signaled to the other officers to fan out, covering as much ground as possible. Two men each took to every aisle. We moved with precision and speed, confirming the safety of our environment before plunging through the door at the back of the building. A set of stairs led down to the basement. Something metallic, like the tang of blood and rust, hit me like a punch to the gut, but I pushed down my nausea and descended the stairs.

In the picture, the room had been illuminated, but the perpetrator had turned off the light. I used my flashlight to scan the room, which was cold, or maybe it was the chill running through me, seeing the blood on the floor and walls.

“Jesus,” someone said behind me.

I echoed the sentiment silently. The basement, once a storeroom, had been transformed into a madman’s operation. On a table in the middle of the room lay a body, the same body that had been in the photograph. The eyes of the woman werehalf-open, and her skin was already a sickly shade of gray. From the gaping wound in her belly, flies buzzed. The umbilical cord and placenta had been left beside her, cruel reminders of what had grown inside her. My stomach roiled.

What kind of monster would do something like this?

A wave of sorrow crashed over me. We were too late. The realization knocked the breath from my lungs. This woman, whose life had been so cruelly snatched away, was someone’s daughter, someone’s friend. She could have been someone’s mother. My worst fears were confirmed. She’d been savagely hacked open for her baby.

“Jones,” I said to one of the cops who’d come down with me. “Get forensics down here now.”

I turned away from the gruesome scene and took a deep breath to regain my composure. This case couldn’t go on for much longer. It was one thing for these criminals to consensually buy the babies from these mothers—as despicable as the practice was. When they started killing unwilling mothers to steal their babies, that was an even bigger threat to the women of Smoky Vale. If we didn’t catch these killers soon, what was next? How far would they go? What was to stop them from kidnapping nonpregnant women and forcing them into becoming breeding vessels?

I scanned the room, searching for anything that would give us a lead. A bloody scalpel, no doubt used to cut her open, had been left behind—too deliberate to hope we would get any useful fingerprints off it, but I was desperate for any clue.

The forensics team, dressed in protective gear, rushed in. I stepped back to stay out of the way, leaving the room under the pretext of ensuring everything was being taken care of in labeling the place a crime scene. The standard procedure didn’t call for anyone to monitor it, but I needed an excuse to get outof that room and inhale a lungful of fresh air that wasn’t tainted with the smell of blood.

When I stepped outside, the quiet of the night had gone. News had traveled fast. So many people had gathered outside the yellow tape, phones out and recording. A news crew had already pulled up too.

“Chief Witter.”

Shit. Emily Kane. Just the woman I wasn’t in the mood for chatting with.

“Chief Witter,” she said louder. “Is it true that another pregnant woman was killed and her baby taken? Can you confirm whether this woman is Melissa Sharp?”

I stopped. How had she come by that information? We hadn’t even ID’d the victim yet.

“What makes you so sure this is Melissa Sharp?” I asked.

“After we saw the graphic photograph, it was easy to find out who she was,” she said. “How much confidence can we have in the police, if you can’t even identify the victim?”

Photograph?

“Where did you get a photograph?”

“They were uploaded all over the Internet for anyone to see. Women everywhere are worried since seeing those photographs. Some are even asking for you to step down so someone else can take over the case. What do you have to say for yourself?” She thrust the mic into my face.

“This investigation is ongoing, and we are doing everything we can to find the perpetrator and bring them to justice. In the meantime, I ask you to give us the space and respect we need to do our jobs effectively.”

“I understand emotions are running high, but the public deserves the truth. How much of a threat do these men pose to the women of Smoky Vale? Are you recommending that all pregnant women take extra precautions during this time?”

They should, but I couldn’t speak prematurely without discussing it with my team first, so I walked away.

“I’m not finished talking to you, Chief Witter.”

“When we have concluded our investigation here, we will make an official statement to the public. Have a nice day.”

Kane wasn’t a horrible person. She was just damn good. While her presence annoyed me, I also held a grudging respect for how dedicated she was to her job. She might be shrewd, but she was as honest as reporters come. For that reason, she was always at the forefront whenever we had press releases. We could always rely on her to present the facts without distorting them.

Retching drew me out of my thoughts. I followed the sound and found Officer Savannah Darling doubled over at the side of the building, her face pale. Frowning, I walked over to her, my steps slow.

“You okay, Darling?”

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