Page 33 of A Dead Man's Pulse
“Awesome. Glad he’s going to a good home.”
“Yeah. Him and Jagger have their own couch in the garage now and have become best buds.”
While they trudged through the woods, they could occasionally hear and see the others on the dirt road, heading in the same direction parallel to them. It seemed as if the victim had known it was there and used it as a guide but was smart enough to know she might run into her abductor if she’d gotten too close.
“Hey, look over there,” one of the cops to Dakota’s left prompted. “Looks like an old utility building. There’s a few of them around from back in the 70s and 80s, but the ones in this area were pretty much abandoned when the park rangers had their new headquarters built about two miles north of here. They moved all the equipment that was stored in these over there.”
The concrete structure blended well with its thick, surrounding flora. There was only a dark green door visible on the side they could see and no windows. Keeping her weapon in her right, dominant hand, Dakota pulled out the FBI portable radio she’d been given back out on the road. She brought it to her mouth and pressed the transmit button. “Parrish. Sawyer.”
The former’s voice followed a squelch. “Parrish. Go.”
“I think we’re just about parallel to you. There’s an old utility building about two hundred yards ahead of us, and the K9 is heading right for it. No signs of being occupied at the moment.”
“Copy. Proceed with caution. We’ll meet you there.”
The tension among the five in the woods had increased and talking dropped to a minimum as the K9 lead them to the structure. While the two patrol officers covered the only door they could see, the handler held his partner back as Logan and Dakota circled around to see if there were any windows or other entrances. They worked well together, covering each other as they rounded the corners in silence so as to not alert anyone inside of their presence.
By the time they completed the inspection, Parrish, Sawyer, and the other two feds had arrived. Logan used hand signals to indicate to the others that there was only the one way in and out. Logan and Dakota stacked up behind Sawyer, who was holding a Maglite in his non-gun hand, on one side of the door jamb, weapons at the ready. They waited as one of the cops, standing on the opposite side, grabbed the doorknob and gently tried to turn it. When it did so without hesitation, he nodded at the trio, and then mouthed a countdown from three to one. Yanking hard, he swung the door wide, and Sawyer pivoted inside with Logan and Dakota on his heels, sweeping the room with his flashlight and weapon in the same direction. No one was inside, but there was no mistaking the fact they’d found where the Kink Killer had slaughtered his victims. Dried blood coated the floor, ceiling, and one of the walls beside a large St. Andrew’s cross. A hospital bed with leather restraints and chains attached also had blood on them . . . fresher blood. Somehow, Georgia Branneth had managed to escape the bonds and run for her life. Only, now, she had a different fight for that same life.
Parrish stepped inside the large room and used his own flashlight to illuminate it. There was a switch for an uncovered light bulb hanging from the middle of the ceiling, but until they got the crime scene techs in there to inspect and photograph everything, nothing was to be disturbed if it could be prevented. The SAC took one last glance around then turned back to the door, pulling out his phone. “Everyone out. Let’s hope the techs can find something we can use to catch this bastard, once and for all.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dakota couldn’t sleep, and she tried to convince herself it wasn’t because Logan hadn’t been lying next to her. He’d brushed his lips against her forehead before leaving her bed around 2:00 a.m., and she’d tossed and turned until finally giving up on falling back to sleep around 5:30. She’d tossed off the covers and gotten dressed in workout clothes before heading toward the Trident compound to use the gym. It was closer to her temporary condo than the ones at her police precinct and the SOD headquarters, and probably a hell of a lot quieter at this time of the morning when most cops were getting a workout in before their shifts started.
Pulling up to the guardhouse at the first gate, she rolled down her window and smiled at the big man who came out to greet her. “Morning, Murray.”
“Good morning, Dakota. You’re up early.”
“Not as early as you, apparently.”
“Don’t let my bright eyes and bushy tail fool you. I just got here about twenty minutes ago and after only five hours sleep. Not that I’m complaining, since my girlfriend got home from three weeks visiting family in Ireland yesterday.” He waggled his eyebrows, and it was clear what the couple had been doing to celebrate. “Anyway, you here for a meeting or the gym?”
“Gym. I didn’t get much sleep either, so I figured I’d burn off a few calories.”
“Trust me, darling, you don’t need to. And no, I’m not flirting with you—my woman and Cowboy would both kick my ass—just stating a fact. Let me get the gate for you.” He reached inside the shack and hit the button that rolled the iron gate to the left, granting her access.
With a wave at the guard, she drove through and up the quarter mile to the first parking area which was for The Covenant. Instead of pulling up to the inner gate, she slowed when she saw Logan’s SUV with another vehicle parked outside the club.
That’s strange. What’s he doing here so early? There’s no task force meeting.
After a moment’s hesitation, her curiosity got the better of her and she pulled her SUV in next to Logan’s and climbed out. She’d just pop her head in and see if he was free to work out with her—that was all.
Yeah, right. You want to have a reason not to trust him, so you can be the one to break it off first, just like you always do.
Ignoring her inner bitch, she took the stairs to the second-floor entrance two at a time. Her handprint had been scanned into the compound’s security system, so she had access to the club, gym, and Trident’s main office, instead of having to be buzzed in by someone else. When the lock clicked, she pulled the door open and stepped into the lobby. No one was there, but she hadn’t expected to see anyone at this time of the morning. Striding over to the double wooden doors, she found one slightly ajar and widened the opening so she could step through.
Again, no one was in sight, but Logan’s deep rumbling laughter floated up from the pit. Dakota was about to announce her presence when she heard him moan and say, “God, that feels incredible. Don’t stop.”
A female replied, “Actually, let’s take this into one of the playrooms where there’s a bed, love . . .”
Whatever the woman had said next after “love” was low and muffled, but Dakota had heard enough. Jealous rage coursed through her when Logan said, “Sounds good to me.”
What the fuck?
On silent feet, she quickly made her way to the balcony and looked down.
That son of a bitch!
