Page 22 of So Wicked

“Works for me. Are you anticipating a fight?”

“If he knows we’re here investigating the murder, yes,” Faith replied. “He might not be the killer, but if he knows we suspect him of being the killer, he could react badly.”

“Got it. Well, we’ll be ready if that’s what happens.”

Slade turned off of the Greenway onto a rough dirt road that led east into the forest. The shadows were growing long as the afternoon progressed. They reached for the car with jagged claws, and Faith felt a shiver as the road disappeared behind them.

Turk didn’t show any fear, but his eyes were wide and alert, and his tail swished back and forth. Like Faith, he anticipated a fight too.

“According to the GPS, the house should be eight hundred feet to the left just about… here.”

He stopped the cruiser and pointed out of the window at a narrow footpath that led up a low hill. Faith caught a glimpseof a log cabin between the thick branches of the trees lined on either side of the path. "Okay, boy," she told Turk. "On my command."

The three of them left the vehicle and Turk trotted to the edge of the footpath, ears up, body poised. Faith and Slade checked their weapons, and when Slade nodded to Faith, she commanded, “Go.”

Turk shot forward, bounding almost silently up the path. “Damn,” Slade whispered. “I forget how quiet dogs can be.”

“Let’s see if we can be that quiet,” Faith replied.

The two human investigators started up the footbath, hands on their weapons but not drawn. Faith listened closely for the barking that would tell her that Turk had found their quarry, but it never came. When they reached the cabin, they found Turk standing in front of the door, sniffing carefully.

“What does that mean?” Slade asked.

“It means Thompson might still be inside,” Faith said. “Or he’s not here, but Turk smells something suspicious.”

Slade nodded. “I’ll go to the back, you take the front?”

“Works for me.”

Slade moved around to the back of the house, this time drawing his weapon. Faith drew hers but held out hope they wouldn’t need to use them.

She knocked on the door. “FBI! Respond!”

Jack—if he was inside the cabin—didn’t.

“FBI! Jack Thomas, respond!”

He still didn’t.

Faith lifted the radio Slade had let her borrow to her lips. “Slade? You there?”

“I’m here. Back door’s locked. Are we going in?”

“Looks like it. Let me try the front door and see if it opens.”

She reached for the handle, but before she grabbed it, Turk barked urgently. The door burst open, knocking Faith off of theporch. She covered her head just before she hit the ground, but the five-foot drop still knocked the wind out of her. She gasped and fumbled around for her weapon while a tall figure covered in dirt and branches jumped off of the porch and sprinted into the forest.

Turk started after the suspect but hesitated when he saw Faith. “Go after him!” she commanded.

Turk ran after the suspect, and Faith found her weapon and got to her feet. Slade rounded the house and rushed to her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Faith said, wincing as she rolled her shoulder. Noting Slade’s concerned expression, she said, “Seriously, I’m fine. Just bruised. Come on, Turk’s on his trail.”

The two officers jogged into the forest, following Turk’s barking. The suspect already had a significant head start, and he knew these woods much better than they did, so they would have to rely on Turk to keep up with their suspect and hopefully corner him.

“Did you see a weapon?” Slade asked.

“No, but I didn’t get a good look. He was wearing hunting camouflage, so he could have concealed something.”

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