One of the residents had been out in a shorefront gazebo during the incident. He’d reported a shooting on Saturday night before they had Jeremy and Brooke off the water. He’d also said he’d gotten a glimpse of someone on the old dock and told the dispatchers he thought the shooter had tossed the gun into the lake.
Gabe had no trouble getting search warrants for the property, but the rain that had chased them off the lake Saturday night had made the shoreline a muddy mess by the time Forensics got there Sunday morning. Forensics did the best they could—he owed those guys some donuts or something—but so far their search had come up with exactly nothing.
Not a single footprint. Not even a piece of trash. The property had an old cabin on it, several hundred yards back from the shore, and it appeared to be lived in but barely. A few eggs and lunch stuff in the fridge. Cold coffee in the pot.
Forensics had taken prints and DNA samples. The lab would run everything as fast as it could. They might get a hit off the fingerprints today. The DNA would be weeks, if not months.
Gabe’s phone buzzed as he walked into the sheriff’s office.
Anissa.
Maybe she’d found something. The dive team had met at nine this morning to search the lake for evidence.
“Got some good news for me, Bell?”
“Not exactly.” Anissa sounded like she was forcing herself to say the words.
“What’s wrong?”
“Um . . . how are you feeling today?”
That was weird. “If you must know, I feel horrible. I just came from the autopsy. But otherwise I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, Gabe.”
She took a deep breath. Then another. What was her deal? “Spit it out, Bell.”
“I need your help.”
Anissa was asking for help? From him? “Anything.”
“You may change your mind when you hear what I need.”
“Not likely, Nis. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” Anissa’s frustration punctuated every word. “Everyone’s sick.”
“Who’s sick?”
“Ryan, Adam, Sabrina, ten other people from the office.”
More weirdness. Ryan, Adam, and Sabrina had been fine Saturday. “Define sick.”
“Well, to put it delicately, none of them can get out of the bathroom.”
Gabe didn’t like the sound of that. “Yuck.”
“Yeah,” Anissa said. “It must be some nasty stomach bug, but there’s no way they can dive. And I can’t search the lake unless . . . I mean, this isn’t a training exercise. We can’t afford any mistakes.”
He understood what she didn’t say. Their team was already undermanned, and while the newer dive team members were young and eager, they were also inexperienced. And if she sent any of them to search, she would always wonder if they’d missed something. “When do you want to go?”
“I know you don’t have time for this.”
He didn’t. He didn’t usually have time to sleep during the first forty-eight hours after a homicide. But he needed this search done, and more importantly, he needed to have confidence that it had been done correctly.
Then there was the added issue he tried not to acknowledge but couldn’t completely ignore. He didn’t want to tell Anissa no. “What time?”
“You tell me. I’ll work around your schedule.” Anissa must be desperate.
Gabe glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon. I need an hour at my desk. Can we say two this afternoon?”
“Sure. That would be great. Lane and Stu are the only ones available, but we’ll have everything ready.”
The Carrington Dive Team kept their boat docked at the Porter Marina. At two o’clock, Gabe parked his car in the marina lot. To save time, he’d changed into swim trunks and a T-shirt at the sheriff’s office. He grabbed his diving gear from the back of his car and made his way to the boat. As he walked down the dock, he could hear Anissa barking orders.
He loved how she took charge and got things moving, but he couldn’t deny that he was glad he wasn’t the one on the receiving end of her intensity this afternoon. She spotted him and . . . smiled.
Anissa’s smiles were rare.
And glorious.
This one held a tinge of the grief they were all operating under, but unless his radar was way off, she was genuinely happy to see him.
“Thank you,” she said as he stepped on board. The smile was gone, but the look she gave him—gratitude and something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Camaraderie? Maybe.
She was already in her wet suit. Well, halfway in it. It was on up to her waist, but the top half was hanging down, the sleeves falling below her knees. She wouldn’t put her arms in and zip it until they were ready to dive. The July afternoon made it way too hot for that.
He settled his gear in front of a nitrox tank. The mixture of oxygen and nitrogen would allow them to stay under longer than the standard air tanks. And that was always a good thing. Although he hoped they would find something of value to the case without a lengthy search.
He’d just gotten on his own wet suit when Anissa fired up the engine and the boat rumbled beneath him. “You good to go?” Anissa called out over the motor.
He gave her the okay sign. She returned it and eased the boat away from the dock. He wasn’t surprised she was the one driving. Anissa was picky about who drove the dive team boat. But once she got it out in open water, she waved Lane over and turned the wheel over to him. Then she joined Gabe.
Her buoyancy compensator device, or BCD, was already strapped to her own nitrox tank. She perched on the edge of the bench nearby. “We’ll run the side sonar first. See if we get any hits.”
“Sounds good.” Gabe finished setting up his gear and sat beside Anissa.
They didn’t speak as they approached the scene, but he could feel the tension rolling off Anissa. As soon as they reached the scene, she went into full instructor mode. She explained what they were doing to Stu, gave Lane plenty of opportunities to show off his skills with the sonar—the kid was quite good at it—and began the process of checking the lake floor for anything that warranted further inspection.
They kept their focus on the area near the dock. If the shooter had tossed the gun as the neighbor thought, it couldn’t have gone that far. Unfortunately, there were more than a few suspicious-looking objects in the water. After forty-five minutes of searching, they had floated buoys for at least three possible rifles.
They picked their most likely target and Gabe and Anissa prepared to descend. Anissa had shown Stu how to set up a jackstay search and they put the buoys in place. When everything was ready, Gabe stepped off the boat first and swam out of the way. Anissa followed and they began their descent, slow and steady.
The lake wasn’t as deep in this area as it was in others. Just twenty-five feet in most places. But the visibility was awful. The heavy rains—and the runoff into the lake—had left the water murky. Gabe could barely make out Anissa and she was only two feet away from him.
Not the best conditions for a search.
When they neared the bottom, they paused a foot from the lake floor. Anissa had the best buoyancy control of anyone he’d ever had the opportunity to dive with. She could hold herself mere inches from the bottom and never touch it.
She made it look easy. It wasn’t.
They both took positions on opposite sides of the guide rope.
“You ready?” Anissa asked.
“Always,” Gabe said as they laced their pinky fingers together and began the first leg of their search.
Together, they settled into a search pattern a foot off the bottom. If he hadn’t been touching Anissa, he would have had no idea where she was. But he knew what she was doing. The same thing he was. A slow, methodical sweep with her right hand while he did the same with his left. They followed the guide rope they’d laid out until they reached the end, then they made the necessary adjustments and repeated the process. Back and forth across the grid
they had created. After ten minutes, Gabe’s left hand brushed against an object that didn’t seem to match the lake environment.
“I’ve got something,” he said.
“Gun?” Anissa held their place on the rope while Gabe investigated further with his hands. When he finally got the object in his hand, he couldn’t stop a frustrated groan from escaping.
It was a gun all right.
A toy gun.
“Not quite what we’re looking for,” Anissa said. “Let’s go ahead and take it up. Just to get it out of here, if for no other reason.”
They searched the second possible site, only to find a large piece of rebar.
“Third time’s the charm.” Gabe tried to keep his tone cheerful as they descended a third time. The truth was, he was tired, hungry, and had been down long enough that if they didn’t find the weapon soon, Anissa would make him stay out of the water for a while. She had a sixth sense about that kind of stuff. Even without checking his dive computer, she would know that he was due to spend some time in the boat.
“This location makes sense,” Gabe said.
“It does,” Anissa agreed. “I’ve been trying to picture it. And the more I think about it, the more I like this location best.”
They continued to search and Gabe fought back his frustration every time they made a pass and found nothing. Anissa didn’t speak. Not that that was unusual. She didn’t tend to talk much on dives, even though their fancy equipment made it possible for them to communicate with each other and with their boat.
“I’ve got something.”
He could hear the edge of excitement in her words.
“Definitely a weapon. I can’t see a thing, but this is a gun. Let’s bring it up.”
It took another thirty minutes before they were able to bring the weapon out of the water. Thirty minutes of Anissa insisting that every single possible bit of protocol be followed to the letter.
And as much as it aggravated him, he’d never been more proud to be a part of the dive team than he was right then.
There were no news cameras. No flashing lights. No one knew what they’d done. How hard they had worked to do it.
And that was okay.
He loved being part of a team that was determined to do the very best possible job. That preserved evidence in every imaginable way, including taking water samples and soil samples from the area where the weapon was located.
A team that got results.
Once the weapon was safely on board, Anissa swam with Gabe to the stairs at the back of the boat.
“Ladies first,” he said with a gallant smile.
She didn’t argue. They’d been underwater so long, she was chilled through.
It had been worth it though. They had the murder weapon. Not that she had proof.
But it had to be.
When she’d wrapped her hand around the barrel, part of her wanted to throw the infernal object as far away as possible, but the other part of her wanted to cheer.
Instead, she kept herself calm as she watched Lane and Stu follow all the appropriate procedures to retrieve the weapon and preserve it in the lake water.
They would get the weapon to Forensics tonight, but the caliber was right. The location was right. And the sonar didn’t show anything else down there.
Of course, there was no guarantee the killer had thrown the weapon into the lake to begin with, but—
She stopped that train of thought. She’d done her job. Her team had performed beautifully.
She wrapped her hand around the ladder at the back of the boat and fought a shiver as she stepped onto the small platform to remove her fins. Once free of them, she pulled herself up the stairs, careful to give her body a chance to adjust to the awkward center of gravity caused from the weight of the BCD and nitrox tank.
She turned back to help Gabe. She took his fins as he handed them to her, one at a time. She waited for him to get out of the water before moving toward the front of the boat to remove her BCD. She and Gabe made a good team. She’d noticed it before. He was a natural at this. And very aware of what was going on around him and what others were doing.
It took only a few minutes for them to get their equipment off and everything strapped down tight.
Gabe stuck out his fist. She bumped it with hers.
“Thank you,” she said. It felt like all she’d done lately was thank him. But he just kept showing up and doing things she couldn’t help but be grateful for.
“Anytime.” He grinned. A tired grin, but a real one.
“Lane,” she called. “Get us home.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lane gave her a small salute as he fired up the engine.
She leaned closer to Gabe and yelled into his ear so he could hear her as the boat bounced across the water. “As soon as we get back to the dock, you can head out. We’ll get your gear and everything for you.”
He smiled. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But we want to.”
He looked at Lane and Stu and then back to her. “I’m not sure where you’re getting this ‘we’ stuff from.” He laughed. “I think they’d be fine with me taking care of it myself.”
“Oh, good grief,” Anissa said. “Let me help you.”
“Fine,” he yelled.
She glared at him for a moment. Oh, he made her so mad sometimes.
But then he smiled.
And that smile . . .
That smile was the thing dreams were made of.
It had taken the rest of the afternoon and into the evening to stow all their gear, get the weapon to Forensics, return to the office, and file all the necessary reports. By nine o’clock, Anissa was wiped out. The homicide office was empty when she called it a night. Gabe was sitting at Adam’s desk when she walked by.
He was on the phone. “Yeah. Okay. I did that . . .”
He covered the mouthpiece with his hand. “Adam’s trying to talk me through using this program he’s got to view the financials.” He glared at the computer screen. “I’m not smart enough for this.”
He removed his hand from the phone. “Dude. When are you going to be able to come back to work?”
Anissa waved and kept going.
Gabe was plenty smart. Smarter than he let on. He’d figure it out.
But she didn’t blame him for wanting Adam to be back at work. Soon. In the meantime, she hoped none of them got whatever bug the others had. It sounded awful.
Her car was parked under a tree in the back corner of the lot. Not the best place to park, but the best she could get when she arrived back at the sheriff’s office during shift change.
The parking lot was well lit and she was armed, but something didn’t feel right.
Anissa had learned to trust that sense.
She held her pace steady and tried to keep her face impassive as she tuned in to her surroundings. As she neared her car, she slowed. Something was wrong. It looked . . . off-kilter.
She didn’t remember that space being sloped.
She slowed her pace and walked on the other side of the lot so she could get a view of her car without being too close. She pulled her good flashlight out of her bag and pointed the beam toward the car.
What on earth?
It hadn’t been her imagination. She had not one but two flat tires. Both passenger-side wheels were sitting on the rims. She was more than capable of changing her own tire, and she had a spare. But she didn’t have two of them.
She wanted to get a close look at what had caused the damage. But then she thought better of it. It was darker in this corner and she’d be in a very vulnerable position if she bent over the tires with a flashlight. Not that she thought anyone had done anything on purpose. She’d probably run over some glass or something.
Although it was going to drive her crazy until she found out what had happened.
“Yo, Bell!” Gabe’s voice carried across the parking lot.
Great. This was going to be embarrassing. Why did it have to be Gabe
always coming to her rescue?
He jogged toward her. “I’m glad I caught you. You left your sunglasses on your desk. I know how much you hate to drive without them. Not that you need them tonight, but for in the morning.”
Well, that was . . . sweet. Her annoyance fled. “Thank you. But I don’t think I’ll be driving anywhere.”
“Why not?”
She waved her flashlight over the tires.
Gabe let out a shrill whistle. “Who gets two flats at a time? That stinks. Want me to give you a ride home? We can call the mechanics and get them to fix this first thing tomorrow.”
“I didn’t think you were heading home yet.”
“I’ll take this as a sign that it’s time to call it a night. Come back in with me. I’ll pack my stuff and we’ll get out of here.”
She looked back at her car. Gabe was right and she was too tired to deal with it now. “Okay. Thanks.”
“Need anything out of it?”
“Not for tonight.”
Seriously?
A few more steps and she would have been his.
He watched her walk back to the sheriff’s office with that other cop. He’d almost risked grabbing her. A quick knock to the head and he could have pulled her back into the shadows before finishing her off the way he’d always dreamed of.
One bullet.
Right between the eyes.
Discarded in the weeds like trash.
His heart rate quickened at the thought. He was so close he could taste it.
But once again, she’d shimmied from his grasp.
Anissa Bell had always been hard to get to.
It was like she had some sort of sixth sense. Whenever he was waiting for her, she always turned and went the other way.
Of course, the last time he’d had an opportunity as good as this one was thirteen years ago.
And she hadn’t been a cop then.
What had made him think this time would be any different?
He slunk away into the night.
He’d been waiting four decades to get his revenge.
He could be patient a little while longer.
4
One Final Breath Page 4
