"I'll radio the chopper," Ben said.
"Ms. Downham?" Jasi said, kneeling on the floor. "Can you talk?"
"Yes, but it hurts."
"I only have one question for you. Everything else can wait until you've seen a doctor."
"Ask."
"Do you know who beat you and imprisoned you here?"
Sheral cleared her throat and winced. "Brad Pitt."
"You mean Lazarus."
"Yes."
Jasi rose, but Sheral grabbed her arm. "A native guy was with Lazarus. Harry, I think."
Henry.
"The helicopter's waiting in the field," Ben said.
"Wait," Sheral said, her mouth trembling. "What happened to Jenny?"
"We don't know," Jasi said. "She's missing."
"She's troubled but sweet."
"Sounds like you two became friends."
"I gave her a bracelet as a sign that I believed in her."
Jasi blinked. "The amethyst one?"
"Yeah." Sheral attempted a smile. "I fastened it on her wrist and told her to leave Sanctuary and never come back. Do you think that's what she did?"
Jasi didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. There'd be time for that later.
"You gave your friend a special gift—hope."
Sheral took another mouthful of water.
"We need to take you to the hospital." Jasi turned to Natassia. "You get everything?"
"I've copied the entire drive. Now what?"
"You and Ben head back to Sanctuary and arrest Henry—Horton Edgars. Agent Norman and his team can secure this bunker and collect evidence. Brandon and I'll go with Sheral to the hospital."
"What about me?" Agent Anthony asked.
"You can accompany Natassia and Ben. After they arrest Henry, drive him to Mission PD. Think you can handle that?"
"Yes, I do," the kid said, puffing up his chest.
Jasi caught Natassia's eye. "Do you think he's capable?"
"He's definitely ready now."
Jasi almost laughed when the kid's eyes virtually popped out of his head.
"P-pardon me, Agent Prushenko?" he stammered.
"No pardon needed. You did good." Natassia patted his back, then swiveled on one heel until she faced Jasi. "Not everyone noticed that the blueprints didn't match the interior layout. Checking for a secret chamber within the bunker was all Agent Anthony's idea."
"Agent Anthony?" the young man repeated, dumbfounded. "If you really want to call me Jay, that's okay, Agent Prushenko."
"I was goading you on purpose. When Matthew assigned you to me, he told me to make things difficult for you. He wanted to know you've got the balls for this occupation. Not everyone's cut out to be a CFBI agent."
"So…all of this was just for show?"
Natassia shrugged. "I was following orders. But I have to admit, you made an easy target."
Blushing, Agent Anthony turned to Jasi. "So…have I got the—um, I mean, did I pass?"
"What do you think?"
He grinned. "I passed. Yeah, I did. Does this mean I get to work in the field permanently now?"
"Hey, don't rush things. One step at a time, remember?"
"Come on," Natassia yelled from the doorway. "We don't have all night."
Jasi gave the kid a small push. "Go get Henry, Agent Anthony."
Like a devoted puppy, he sprinted after Natassia.
27
Friday, July 19, 2013
Mission Memorial Hospital, Mission, BC
The doctor attending to Sheral Downham had a kind face and silver hair, but his expression was unreadable as he made his way across the ICU floor to the waiting room.
"What's her prognosis?" Jasi asked, standing.
"She has mostly superficial wounds, bruised ribs and severe dehydration. There is some damage to her right retina, but I'm confident it'll heal on its own."
"What about internally?"
"No damage to her kidneys or any other organs." The doctor paused then lowered his voice. "And the rape kit was negative."
"How long will she be in here?"
"Maybe a week. Once she has her strength back and her injuries have healed, she'll be able to go home."
"Can we see her?"
"Yes, but I don't want you getting her wound up. Emotionally, she's very fragile, and she needs rest." He glanced at his watch. "It's after midnight and technically visiting hours are over, but I can make an exception for the CFBI. You have five minutes."
When they entered the hospital room, Jasi was relieved to find Sheral Downham awake and drinking water, although a padded bandage covered both eyes.
"Ms. Downham?"
Sheral stared at them. "CFBI, right?"
"Right."
"You have to take my statement or something."
"I'm sorry. I know you're exhausted."
"That's okay. You need answers."
"Yes. We do."
Jasi pulled a chair close to the bed and took a second to take in the woman's appearance. Sheral's hair was the color of straw, not the rich brunette hue from her photograph. Someone had recently washed it, probably to take a closer look at her scalp in case there were injuries there. The paleness of her freshly cleaned skin made her appear almost luminescent, except where she was marked by bruises.
"Do I look that bad?" the woman asked, her voice still rough.
"You look far better than you did a couple of hours ago."
"No camera work for me for a while."
Silence invaded the room.
"My partner and I have a few questions for you," Jasi said finally. "Are you up for it?"
"Shoot."
"We know you went into Sanctuary to investigate a string of disappearances," Brandon began. "Did you get caught? Is that why you were beaten and captured?"
Sheral blew out a breath. "Yes, but that's only part of it. I discovered something sinister at Sanctuary."
"The hunt club?"
"You know about it?"
"Yes. We know Lazarus was behind it."
"He's a sick bastard. And so are the others."
"Was Giles Christiansen involved?"
"At first I was sure he was. But when I was being held, I never saw him or heard him. And no one else mentioned his name."
"So if he's guilty of anything—"
"Then it's not the hunt club," Sheral finished.
"Do you know who all is involved?"
"No. I never saw their faces, other than Henry and Lazarus." Sheral trembled. "But I know there were others. A few nights ago—I don't know how many—Lazarus told us there was a bear sighting. We had to stay indoors so they could hunt it."
"You didn't believe him?"
"Not one bit. There was something evil in his eyes, like…a hunger, greed. And it wasn't for a bear. So I waited until I heard them walking across the field, him and Henry. Then I followed them."
"Into the woods beyond the fence."
"Yeah. All I had was the light from my mini-com and a bit of moonlight to guide me. In hindsight, it wasn't a smart move on my part. I stayed several yards behind them, praying I wouldn't get caught. But luck wasn't with me." She shook her head slowly. "I saw them meet up with another man. And then I saw a woman being dragged from the bushes. They told her to run and that if she made it back to Sanctuary, she'd live."
"You filmed this on your 'com?"
"Yes. But you can't make out any faces. I have no idea who that woman was. She didn't make a sound. She just took off, away from me, and the man with the rifle ran after her, laughing like it was all some perverse game…" Her voice drifted away.
"What happened next?" Brandon asked.
Sheral shivered. "While the other man hunted down that woman, Lazarus and Henry spotted me and came after me. I had no idea where I was or what direction I was heading in until I came to the river. That's where I hid the mini-com."
"Where exactly?"
"In the marsh. There's no current. There's a tree uprooted on the shore and its branc
hes hang over the water. I tied some string to it and tied the other end to a waterproof bag I kept the 'com in. It's far enough away from the swimming area and upstream from where the women wash laundry. I knew no one would find it there."
"Is that why they beat you? Did they know about the camera?"
"The flash went off, and they saw the light. When they caught up to me, they found nothing on me and demanded to know where I'd hidden it."
"And they tortured you until you told them."
Sheral shrugged. "I never said a word."
"You're a brave woman, Ms. Downham."
Jasi had to agree with Brandon.
"What happened after that?" she asked.
"I was unconscious. When I awoke, I was in that room. They left me there with no food or water. I tried to open some of the cans, but I was too weak and I couldn't find anything sharp enough to pierce the cans. After a while, I gave up and crawled into the corner. I think I had a fever."
"Emotional trauma and the injuries you sustained will do that."
"Next thing I knew, you found me. Thank you, Agent…I'm sorry, I forget your name. Must be all the drugs they're pumping into me."
"McLellan. Jasmine McLellan."
"And your partner?"
"Special Consultant Brandon Walsh."
"Correction," a voice sung out behind them. "That's Agent Brandon Walsh now."
Natassia stepped into the room. "Matthew called a minute ago. The Director has approved Brandon's promotion to full agent with the CFBI, with all the lovely perks." She winked at Brandon. "Including an appointment to get your navel tracker injection. Lucky you. Congratulations."
Jasi hugged Brandon. "Agent Walsh, congratulations."
Sheral Downham laughed. "Sounds like you all have something to celebrate."
"We should let you get some rest now," Jasi said, pausing near the door. "By the way, Cameron Prescott is on her way to see you."
"You know Cameron?"
"She's a good friend."
Sheral lifted her bruised chin. "She sent you looking for me, didn't she?"
"Like I said, she's a good friend."
Jasi followed Brandon and Natassia from the room. In the hall, they stopped at the nurses' station.
"I'd like an update on the two kids from Sanctuary," she said after showing her badge to the night nurse. "How are they doing?"
"They're both fully conscious and alert," the man said, "and there's no permanent damage from smoke inhalation. You can come back tomorrow if you want to see them."
"Thank you."
Brandon pulled her close. "Well, what next?"
"Now, Agent Walsh, we go visit an old friend."
28
Triple Creek Estates, Mission, BC
Uncle Paxton's mobile home was situated on an oversized lot on the west side of the well-maintained park. One of the older models, the two-bedroom trailer had a concrete porch out front and a spacious cedar deck in the back. Uncle Paxton and Pop had built the deck one summer, when Uncle Paxton was still married and Jasi's mother had been alive. A cherry tree that Brady used to climb adorned the front yard, raining tart cherries that Jasi and her brother would eat until they were sick. The backyard had been Jasi's favorite—a lush wilderness of fruits, vegetables, flowers and plants. A blue metal gate led from the backyard into a wooded area that ran all along the back of the trailer park. Uncle Paxton used to take her there to pick wild blackberries, the hinges of the gate often screeching to let them pass.
Two lots away, Brandon pulled the SUV up to the curb across the street.
Jasi stared out the window. "It's not the same place I remember."
The trailer and yard were more rundown than she remembered, as though Uncle Paxton had given up on them. The once-beautiful cherry tree that had been the cause of countless stained faces had been hacked down, its parched, dead stump a permanent reminder of its former glorious existence. The banana-yellow paint on the exterior of the house was faded and peeling. The roof was in desperate need of new tiles, and the concrete front porch had a crack through the left side, causing it to sag forlornly. Fresh dents and gashes in the single door of the garage at the end of the driveway were telltale signs that someone had used it recently for target practice.
"Seems pretty neglected," Ben said from the back seat.
"Uncle Paxton used to take such pride in his home. I don't know what happened."
"His divorce, maybe?" Natassia suggested.
"Could be. I don't remember his wife. She left him when I was young."
"What about your mother?" Brandon asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Did she like him?"
"She'd invite them over for dinner, and they'd go out with her and Pop. They were all friends."
"Can you do this?"
She gave a hesitant nod. "I think so."
Beside her, Brandon squeezed her arm. "I know this isn't easy."
"Pop is going to be devastated."
She could already taste Pop's disappointment, anger and betrayal. He'd be crushed to discover his oldest and dearest friend was mixed up in a murder conspiracy. And Uncle Paxton? Prison was the worst possible place for a police officer.
She couldn't think of that now. She had a job to do.
Behind her, Natassia said, "Perhaps Hawley lied? Maybe he only said those things because he knew Paxton and your father are friends."
"What would he gain? Hawley says he has proof."
Her 'com rang.
"Warrant is in," Matthew told her when she picked up.
"Okay. We're ready to go in."
"Jasmine, I know Paxton Helling is a family friend, but don't let your guard down. He has everything to lose now."
"I hear you." When she disconnected the call, she turned to her team. "No one gets hurt tonight. Keep sharp."
"You sure he's home?" Ben asked. "There aren't any lights on."
"And there's no car in the driveway," Natassia added.
"I called the station on the way to the hospital," Jasi said. "They said Uncle Paxton took a week off with no warning. He's a homebody usually, unless he's with Pop. I can't imagine he'd be out on the town." She glanced at her watch. "Almost ten o'clock. It does seem unusual that he'd be in bed already."
Doubt made her stomach clench. If Uncle Paxton wasn't home, they'd be forced to wait for him or hunt him down.
Across the street, streetlights emitted fingers of brilliance that caressed each trailer along the road, except for Uncle Paxton's. The light near his house was burnt out. Was Uncle Paxton watching television, unaware that his life was about to irrevocably change? Or was he spying on them, waiting in ambush?
She shivered. How far down the convoluted rabbit hole does Uncle Paxton's involvement go?
Hawley had suggested that Uncle Paxton knew about the hunt club, that he chose to pretend it didn't exist. Hawley also said Uncle Paxton had buried leads and evidence that would have led police, RCMP and the CFBI right to Hawley's door.
"Okay, let's do this," she said finally. "Brandon and I'll head around back. Ben, you and Natassia take the front. I'll call you when I'm in place. Then we go in fast and clean. Stay sharp and be safe."
They climbed out of the SUV and dashed across the street, staying behind parked vehicles until they reached the house. Ben ducked under the large bay window in the front, and Natassia stood to one side of the front door. They gave Jasi the thumbs-up and waited.
With her gun at her side, Jasi sprinted down the driveway and through the opening into the backyard and crept onto the deck. Brandon was right behind her, and she pointed to a window at the far right, Uncle Paxton's bedroom. He proceeded toward it, while she approached the sliding doors. Peering inside, she saw a kitchen in disarray but no sign of Uncle Paxton.
Brandon moved toward her. "No one's in the bedroom, as far as I can tell. The bed's unmade."
"He has to be here."
She gave a gentle tug on the door handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. Uncle Paxt
on was usually more safety conscious.
She texted a quick signal to Ben.
"Now," she said, yanking open the sliding door.
"Paxton Helling," Brandon shouted. "This is the CFBI. Show yourself."
They stepped inside, the front door crashing in a second later.
Weapon raised, Jasi darted toward the wall that separated the kitchen from the hallway. As they swept through the living room, she took one look at the stack of newspapers, dirty dishes, empty pizza boxes and beer bottles on the coffee table and knew that something was wrong. Uncle Paxton had always been proud of his home.
She lowered her gun. He's not here.
"Master bedroom's clear!" Brandon shouted.
Ben joined her. "As is the second bedroom."
A minute later, Natassia joined them. "His car is still in the garage."
Jasi turned on a lamp in the corner of the living room. She inspected the closet near the back door. Something caught her eye—a rectangular imprint in the dust on the floor. She tried to recall what Uncle Paxton had kept in the closet, but any memory was gone.
"Search every room," she said. "We're looking for anything that may indicate where Uncle Paxton—Paxton—may have gone."
Once they finished searching the house, they reconvened in the living room.
"Most of the drawers in the master bedroom have been emptied," Brandon said. "And the closet is half empty too."
"Damn it. Paxton is on the run."
"What do we do now?" Natassia asked.
"We can wait here," Brandon suggested. "See if he comes back."
"I don't think he'll be returning." Jasi picked up the newspapers. "All of these are turned to updates on the murders at Sanctuary. He was holed up in here, following the story closely."
"Any idea where he is?"
"No, but I have a feeling Pop may know."
She wandered into the kitchen and stared out the window for a minute. Pulling her data-com from her jacket pocket, she said, "Call Pop."
Within seconds they were connected.
"What's up, lass?" Pop said.
"Have you heard from Uncle Paxton?"
"What's going on, Jasmine? What has Paxton gotten himself involved in?"
"I promise, I'll explain everything later, but right now it’s important that I find him."
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