Page 77 of Seeking Evil

Patrick clamped his lips together and punched the gas.

When they reached the vacant house, it soon became clear it was anything but.

“There are lights on.” Zeke barely waited until they’d stopped before jumping out. He purposely headed toward the house when Jack grabbed his arm.

“Hold back a second. Let us assess the place. If you go charging in there, it might cost Sierra her life.”

All the wind went out of his sails. “You’re right.”

“Come with me.” Jack motioned for him to follow. “We’ll take the front.”

Patrick nodded. “Cooper and I have the back.”

Zeke kept close to Jack while every little sound had him on edge. They reached the front. A single sliver of light reflected a cozy scene. “Looks like any normal house except that no one is supposed to be living here,” Zeke said.

“Yeah. So where are they?” Jack peered through the window. “I don’t see anyone.”

“I don’t know, but the only way we’re going to find out is to get inside.”

Patrick and Cooper came around to them.

“I’ve got the warrant,” Patrick told them. “We can enter the residence.”

“We can’t see anything from the back.” Cooper peeked through the window where they were standing close. “Can we get inside without alerting whoever’s in there?”

Patrick moved to the door. “It’s locked. We’ll have to break it.”

“Hang on.” Zeke remembered Sierra had taken a class about picking locks and had shown him what she’d learned. There were several methods. The one using the credit card was the one he hoped would work here.

He took out a card and slipped it between the door and the frame and worked it around until he heard the a click. That click as the lock disengaged.

He returned the card to his pocket and carefully opened the door. It made a squealing sound that had him cringing. Nothing could be done about it.

He stepped inside. The men with him followed. Patrick gave the silent command for them to spread out.

Zeke and Jack took the upstairs, where there were a couple of bedrooms but no sign anyone had been living in them.

When they returned downstairs, Cooper and Patrick had finished checking there.

Patrick shook his head. “The basement.” He indicated the kitchen, where a door that presumably led to the basement was located. With Patrick leading, the team went in single file. Patrick opened the door.

The room was filled with light. A single voice could be heard. When it finally clicked where he recognized the voice, Zeke almost couldn’t believe it. “That’s Inez.” He grabbed Patrick’s arm.

Patrick listened before he whipped his head around. “You’re right.” He indicated they needed to go now.

Zeke almost tripped over Patrick, trying to get down to the basement before Inez realized they were there.

Patrick reached the floor first. “Drop the scalpel, Inez.”

The sweet woman that had offered him coffee and cookies—who had appeared so helpful in trying to solve the case—was the unknown partner to Henry.

Inez whirled toward the sound of Patrick’s voice with the scalpel held high over Dawn Collins.

“Drop it, Inez,” Patrick repeated.

Dawn’s frightened gaze shot from the scalpel to Patrick. She was gagged and unable to speak, but she made grunting sounds.

“It’s going to be okay,” Zeke did his best to assure her. A man lay on the floor bleeding out from two gunshot wounds. Beyond Dawn’s terror, on another table, lay Sierra.

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