Page 17 of Mountain Murder

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The scream pierced through the truck’s windows.

Every nerve ending in Lance’s body responded with a stabbing pain for him to move, but the actual stab wound in his leg refused to comply. “Did you hear that?”

Easton Ford cut the engine outside of the third apartment building they’d searched. Rain pecked at the windshield, drowning out the sound of their own breathing. “Sounded like a scream.”

They’d spent the past hour going through three possible addresses reported through the department concerning a woman having committed suicide. This one was their last hope.

“That’s my truck at the other end of the parking lot. Audrey’s here.” He knew it with every fiber of his being. They’d found her. Lance shouldered out of the vehicle, his leg be damned. Water soaked him straight down to the bone, but it wouldn’t stop him from finding her. He hadn’t been able to do anything for his unit while he recovered from a bullet wound to the shoulder overseas. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake here.

“You can’t just start knocking on doors, Whitcher.” Ford pulled him back to the head of the truck. “We need to do this together.”

Another patrol vehicle pulled into the lot behind them. No lights. No sirens. Battle Mountain PD was going to do this quietly so as not to give the killer a chance to run. Recognition squeezed the vice in Lance’s chest tighter. Officer Hudson—Dwyer’s partner—studied all four levels of the apartment complex with nothing but heaviness in his expression.

“Hudson, you’re on administrative leave,” Ford said. “Go be with your wife and daughter. We’ve got it from here.”

“This guy stabbed my wife.” Hudson unholstered his sidearm. “I’m bringing him in.”

Ford seemed to realize they didn’t have time for this.

“Fine. Take the first two floors. Whitcher and I will take the third and foruth. You see something, you hail me on the radio. No exceptions. And you.” Ford unholstered a weapon from the back of his duty belt and handed it off to Lance. “Don’t make me regret giving this back. Understand?”

Lance gripped the familiar weight of his personal weapon. A 9mm Smith and Wesson that fit into his hand perfectly. Years of training and covert missions strengthened the muscles along his forearms, and suddenly he wasn’t a broken man in need of healing from the past. He was a soldier, a fighter, a protector. And he’d do whatever it took to bring Audrey back.

Because he loved her. It didn’t make sense, and it was probably the most inappropriate thing he could be feeling considering they were in the middle of getting their lives pieced back together. But it was true. He loved her. Loved the way she insisted on helping wherever and whoever she could, how she emitted a kind of warmth that had the ability to keep him grounded and on edge at the same time. There wasn’t a single selfish cell in her body, and somehow, she’d claimed him as her own over these past few days with her smile alone. She’d tunneled through his habit of keeping people at a distance and created space inside him where there shouldn’t have been anything left.

Audrey did that. She’d brought him back to life. Given him a purpose and an anchor when nothing else had. Helped him feel balanced. Not taking care of an emotional support cow or spilling his guts in group to other residents who couldn’t possibly understand what he’d survived. Not isolating himself from the people he cared about. Her. She’d helped piece him back together and gave him permission to hurt, to rage, to grieve, to struggle. All the things he hadn’t allowed himself to feel, but with her, it’d been easy. Necessary, even. And there was no way in this life he was letting her go.

Lance kept on Ford’s heels as they took the cement stairs two at a time. Each pairing split into the respective teams and started the search floor by floor. He catalogued multiple exits from each apartment, especially those on the lower levels. The killer could slip right by them, and they wouldn’t even know until it was too late. His blood pumped hard beneath his skin, pushing him, driving him along the long corridor stretching the entire length of the building.

Ford angled one shoulder farther back than the other, making himself a smaller target as they moved. A green beret through and through.

“There has to be at least fifty apartments here.” Lance scanned the first two for signs of a struggle, of blood, of anything that would give them an idea of where Audrey had gone. No movement through the windows, though it was hard to get a good look with a set of blinds in one and drawn curtains in the other. “We don’t have time to search them all. Audrey’s patient committed suicide in her apartment. One of you would’ve had to respond to collect the body, at least to investigate, right? Wouldn’t the apartment number be in the damn report?”

“Suicide attempts and mental health crisis aren’t crimes. Having police as first-responders or co-responders without the threat of that person putting others in danger only escalates the issue. Our EMTs arrived first on the scene, but when they learned the victim was already deceased, they called Dr. Miles. There was no reason for the department to be on the scene.” Ford slowed, pulling his phone. “But you’re right. The coroner would know exactly which apartment we’re looking for.”

The deputy chief of police pressed his phone to his ear, and Lance realized just how quiet it’d gotten. No footsteps echoing through the corridors from the officers below. No sounds of televisions or arguments from inside apartments. No more screams. Not even a whisper of crickets.

His heart thudded at the base of his neck. Ticking away with each second they were frozen with indecision. Lance took a step forward. Then another. He maneuvered around Ford, his hip grazing the metal barrier between him and the two levels below.

“Damn it. She’s not answering.” Ford ripped the phone from his ear. The screen lit up as he scrolled his thumb vertically across the glass. “I’ll try dispatch.”

Lance scanned the section of apartments across the well-kept courtyard. Dark windows and screens stared back at him, mocking, reflective of the hollowness inside of him at the thought of losing Audrey so soon after he’d found her. All except one…

“Ford.” He caught the former sergeant’s attention in his peripheral vision. Lance nodded at the single window missing a screen. Fourth apartment from the end. There were any number of reasons the building’s maintenance staff might’ve pushed off replacing a screen. Or maybe the super wasn’t even aware it was missing because someone had removed it recently to gain access.

Ford tucked his phone into his back pocket, gripping his weapon with both hands like the good soldier he was supposed to be. “After you.”

CHAPTER NINE

The knife missed her shoulder by mere millimeters.

It stuck blade first into the TV stand at her back.

Audrey gasped to catch her breath, but she couldn’t give Dominic the time to recover. She shoved to her feet. The TV stand threatened to tip back from the leverage but held long enough for her to hike herself higher. She angled the zip ties over the blade and somehow managed to cut straight through them. Pain stung up her inner forearm as the blade sliced into her skin.

“Very clever.” Her attacker lunged, hands out. His grip locked around her neck and squeezed. Too hard. “But cutting through zip ties alone isn’t going to save you this time.”

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