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Called to Protect

Page 15

by Lynette Eason


  Chloe nodded. “She was here.”

  Hank wagged his tail, and once again Chloe went through the game, which delighted the animal. “Let’s keep going,” she said. “Rachel said she walked all the way to the store. She must have stopped here to eat and rest.”

  “Where’d she get the food?”

  “No idea.”

  “I might can help you with that,” the woman said. “My neighbor up the street called and asked me if I’d heard anything weird last night.”

  “Weird?”

  “He said he thought he heard someone in his house. At first he thought it was his wife, but she wasn’t home yet. By the time he got the lights on, no one was there, but he said he was missing some food. Said three bananas were gone as well as his jar of peanut butter. Might not have noticed the crackers.”

  “That had to be Rachel,” Blake said.

  “Let’s keep going up this road and see where it leads.”

  “Thank you very much,” Blake called to the woman.

  “I hope you find her!”

  Hank found the house, but they already knew Rachel wasn’t there and Chloe helped the dog get back on the scent farther up the road. “He’s got it,” she said.

  For the next two miles they ran with Hank veering to the left, sometimes into the road, then back, weaving through the trees. But for the most part, he continued down the grassy area near the road. Chloe figured they looked a little crazy to the casual observer. Definitely not a couple out for a run with their dog.

  Instead, Blake wore his khakis and comfortable black loafers and Chloe, her uniform. When she started to lag, Blake slowed and she pulled Hank to a reluctant stop. “Okay,” she gasped. “When I said I could do five miles, I meant with jogging shorts and a T-shirt. Definitely not in this gear.” She wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple. Although, she thought she’d done pretty well for as long as she had.

  The cruiser pulled to a stop beside them and directed a green pickup truck to go around. “You big-city cops spend most of your time in cafés and doughnut shops, or what?”

  Blake shot him a dark look and Chloe had a few choice words she could have spat at him. What was his name? Officer Rickie Monroe. Chloe decided she’d offer grace instead of releasing her anger.

  They were all tense and he was probably just letting off some stress by trying to be funny. And truly, if she wasn’t so worried about Rachel and the other girls, she would have just laughed. Right now, she didn’t feel like laughing. From Blake’s expression, he didn’t either.

  Officer Monroe waved a hand with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by that. I sure couldn’t have kept up if I wasn’t behind the wheel.”

  Blake’s expression softened. “Forget it.”

  Hank wandered back and forth for a few seconds nose in the air as though looking for the scent. Chloe called to him and when he trotted over, she opened the bag with the phone to let him take another sniff. Within seconds, Hank had the scent again and was at the end of the lead ready to keep going.

  Thirty minutes later, they’d passed several houses and Hank never once showed any interest in veering from his path. And then he went to the right. His new direction took them next to a gravel driveway.

  “Look,” Chloe panted. “There. A barn.” She pulled Hank to a stop. “Good job, boy.” She scratched his ears and praised him to let him know he’d done his job well. Hank’s entire body vibrated with happiness while Chloe’s muscles added another layer of tension.

  Oh please, God, let Rachel be in there.

  15

  Think there’s a walking trail around it?” Blake asked as they moved back and out of sight should anyone look out a window.

  “Only one way to find out. But I don’t want to scare them. I think we need to keep a low profile until we canvass the place. They might have it rigged to alert them if anyone comes up the drive. I wouldn’t think they do, though, if Rachel was able to walk away without alerting them. Still need to check.”

  Blake nodded and planted his hands on his hips. Sweat ringed his armpits and dripped down the side of his face. He lifted the hem of his now untucked shirt to wipe it off while he fought the urge to storm the house, yelling Rachel’s name. “Good idea. You and Hank stay here. I’ll go find a window.”

  “They’ll have cameras,” Chloe said. “You can’t just walk up to the front door—or even around the house. They’ll spot you in a heartbeat.”

  “I agree,” Linc said, his voice echoing in Blake’s ear and sounding like he was standing right next to him. “About six miles from the store. Impressive dog you’ve got there, Chloe.”

  “I know.” But she smiled.

  “Humble handler too.” He paused. “All right, here’s what we’re going to do. Stay out of sight for now. The chopper is going to make a pass and see what’s on the other side of the house, around the barn, and if there’s a walking trail that can be seen from the air. If so, I’d say it’s likely we’ve got the right place. Backup is on the way, but coming in quiet.”

  Blake chafed at the waiting. Rachel was probably in that house and he wanted to go get her. Now.

  He caught Chloe’s gaze with his. She’d been watching for a few seconds, he realized. And knew exactly what he was thinking. With a quick shake of her head, she expressed what she thought. He grimaced and nodded.

  Federal agents arrived in force. Linc stepped out of his sedan and approached them. “ERT is en route,” he said. “They’ll be ready to take over to find all the evidence we need to put these guys away for good once any arrests and rescues are made.”

  “Good,” Blake said, bouncing on his toes. Several ambulances were on standby and out of sight, but would arrive within seconds of being notified they had victims ready for transport. He prayed Rachel didn’t need one—or any of the other girls.

  “Chloe,” Linc said.

  “Yes?”

  “You and Hank be ready. We’ll want him to help clear the house. Might as well use him while we have him.”

  “We’ll be ready. Just let us know.”

  Blake shook his head. Chloe had given Hank his rope and he sat at her feet chewing on it, happy to be right where he was. They could all learn a lesson from the dog.

  Linc pressed a finger to his ear and listened. Blake could hear every word through his own earpiece. “This is Chopper Two. There are no vehicles on the property. No visible weapons. No sign of movement from the house.” A pause. “And there appears to be something that could be a walking trail that circles the property.”

  “This is it,” Blake said. “It has to be.”

  Chloe nodded. “Hank wanted to keep going, but I didn’t want to let him, in case someone saw him. This is the place. I can feel it in my gut.”

  “Me too.” Blake shifted, never taking his eyes from the front door.

  Linc tilted his head at Chloe. “Stay behind us as we approach, okay?”

  “Got it.”

  His gaze shifted to Blake. “You can listen in. When we find Rachel, we’ll send her out to you.”

  Blake started to protest, but Linc’s hard-eyed stare said it would fall on deaf ears. He clenched his jaw, but nodded his assent.

  Linc raised his arm and motioned for the team to move in, slowly.

  Heart in his throat, Blake watched them go. All he could do was pray that no one started shooting.

  Chloe stayed behind the line of special agents until they started breaking off into different directions. Thanks to the earpiece Linc had given her, she could hear the commands being given by her brother. She stayed with the two agents ordered to cover the door. They took up posts on opposite sides. Chloe shadowed the agent on the right, staying behind him. He’d be first through the door and she and Hank would be right behind.

  Chloe followed the soft chatter coming through the earpiece. She looked back over her shoulder but could see nothing. If anyone had missed their arrival but were now looking out a window, they’d never know a team of agents had them surrounded.
The agent in front of her reached out and tried the knob. He nodded. “It’s open.”

  “We’re ready here in the back. On three,” came the voice through the earpiece.

  “One . . . two . . . three.”

  And then they were inside. Chloe held Hank back for just a moment before rounding the doorjamb and stepping into the foyer. Weapon in her right hand, leash in her left, she followed, eyes scanning. Hank knew the drill, they’d practiced this very type of exercise over and over. And done it again. His ears swiveled and his nose twitched as they walked through the home.

  “Clear!”

  “Clear!”

  “Barn’s clear too,” someone else said.

  “She’s not there?” Blake’s quiet voice came through the earpiece. So did his despair.

  “We’re not done yet, Blake,” Chloe said.

  Linc exited the kitchen and nodded to her. “Let Hank do his thing.”

  Chloe nodded and holstered her weapon. “Hank, volg.”

  Hank came right to her left side and looked up at her.

  “Hank, find the dope.”

  The animal went to work, his lead running through her hands as she let him have his freedom to roam at will, looking for any drugs. Chloe monitored his behavior closely. His mouth was mostly closed, which meant he was using his nose to take up scents. And his ears. Hank’s ears always told her if he found something. Over the years, she’d learned to read him, know his traits, and know when he was on the trail. Right now, something had caught his attention. But what?

  He went through the kitchen to the back door of the house and sat. “What’s he doing?” Linc asked.

  Chloe opened the door. “He wants out.” She followed Hank out into the backyard to a wooden porch with a large outdoor rug. He pawed at it, then sat and looked at Chloe. “Guys? Come over here.”

  Linc jogged over to her. “What is it?”

  She pointed. “Can you move that?”

  “Why?”

  “Because Hank says to.”

  “Right.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Blake approach, followed by two other special agents. His fists opened and closed at his sides.

  They’d probably taken pity on him once they cleared the house and let him come closer.

  His eyes locked on hers and the desperation there nearly took her to her knees. She had to find something that would help lead them to Rachel and, hopefully, Penny as well.

  Linc and another agent moved the heavy rug, exposing a double door.

  “A cellar,” she said. “Get this lock off.”

  Hank paced, nosing at the door, then walked back to her to sit at her side.

  “Hold on, boy. We’re getting there.”

  Within seconds, someone passed Linc a tool and he cut the lock off the doors. With gloved hands, he pulled the first door up and laid it on the side. Chloe did the same with the opposite door. Hank lunged for the steps and Chloe let him go. The thirty-foot lead would allow him to reach the bottom.

  Linc shoved past her, the heavy beam of a flashlight lighting the way, weapon held ready. Chloe eased down the stairs behind him, her weapon also out and ready. Hank barked once as Chloe reached the bottom. Linc stood still. Silent. Staring. And then he was moving. Checking the area in the back while Chloe did the same at the entrance. She caught a glimpse of the chain-link cages to her right and sucked in a harsh breath, but kept going. The last thing she needed was a surprise with a gun.

  “Clear!” Linc called.

  “Clear!” she echoed.

  Linc hurried back toward her and they headed to the cages together. “I need paramedics down here, now!” he barked.

  Six cages lined the wall.

  Three of them held girls who appeared to be unconscious.

  Hank was already pacing in front of the cages as Chloe rushed over. “Are they alive?”

  “I can’t tell.”

  “Hank says there’s dope down here too. Or was at some point.”

  “If they’re gone, they took it with them. We’ve got to get these girls out of here.”

  Her gaze swept each girl, sprawled on the floor, eyes closed. Each had a bluish tint to their lips. Like Linc, she couldn’t tell if they were breathing or not. She jerked the door of the first cage, but it held fast. Linc spoke into his radio. “Need paramedics and something to cut a padlock off.”

  Footsteps pounded down the steps. Chloe moved out of the way while four paramedics entered the area. One passed Linc a tool and he moved quickly to cut the locks off the cages, one by one.

  As the doors opened, the paramedics went for the girls, who lay on the hard concrete floor.

  “This one’s alive,” called the first paramedic. A female in her early thirties.

  The second one looked up. Another female about the same age. “This one is too.” She went to work checking the victim’s vitals.

  “This one’s not.” The third paramedic’s voice was flat. No emotion colored her words, but Chloe could tell the death affected her. Affected them all. The woman moved to help her partner in the second cage.

  Priorities. Keep the ones alive, alive. Grieve the ones you couldn’t help later.

  “Chloe?” Blake’s whisper reminded her that he could hear what was going on. And he’d just heard there was a dead girl in the hole in the ground.

  “It’s not Rachel,” she said softly. “None of them are Rachel.”

  His breath whooshed in her ear.

  “Syringes are on the floor,” the lone male paramedic noted.

  Linc stepped forward and pulled an evidence bag from his pocket. “I’ll collect those. We’ll test them and see what drug was used and if there are any prints on the plastic.” With a gloved hand, he collected the syringes and dropped them in the bags.

  Chloe gripped Hank’s lead. “Come on, boy, do your thing. Is there anyone else here?” She led him through the basement, checking every nook and cranny, looking for secret rooms, booby traps, and anything else he might alert on. He sat next to one of the doors that Linc had opened and cleared, but there was nothing there. “Probably had drugs in this area,” she said.

  And that was it.

  She gave him his toy and he settled down with delight to give it a good workout. Chloe turned her attention to the medical personnel working on the girls. The Evidence Response Team had arrived and was getting to work.

  “Come on, honey, wake up. My name’s Pete and I’d really like to see what color your eyes are.” When he got no response, he looked up. “I think we’re dealing with opioid overdoses here. Breathing is shallow, pulse is slow and erratic. Pale and clammy skin.” His light flicked across his victim’s hands. “Purple fingernails. Yeah. Let’s give them a dose of naloxone and get them out of here. Be ready to give another dose if necessary.” The three women paramedics nodded and went to work.

  Linc stepped forward. “We need sheets from the ambulance. We need to contain any evidence.”

  “I’ve got them.” One of the woman paramedics rushed up the stairs. When she returned, she had three sheets.

  They spread them next to each girl. “Now roll them on gently. We’ll collect their clothes and the sheets at the hospital.” He nodded to Pete. “I can carry one if you can get the other.” The medical examiner would take care of the deceased teen.

  “We’ll have to,” Pete said. “There’s no way to get a gurney down here. I don’t see any sign of neck or bone trauma. We’ll put collars on them and get them out of here.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Chloe gathered Hank and ran up the steps, her heart in her throat. She didn’t want to be the one to tell Blake about their find, but knew he’d been listening in on the conversation and figured he was chomping at the bit to know the details. He already knew that Rachel wasn’t there. And if the three girls left to die in the cages were any indication, that was probably a good thing.

  16

  Blake could easily let himself tumble headlong into a major depression, but knew that would
n’t help him bring Rachel home. Right now, he would be grateful that the dead victim wasn’t Rachel even while his heart grieved for the parents who would soon learn of her demise. He briefly wondered if they’d care. He hoped so. She deserved to have parents who would miss her, mourn her, and hound the police until they found her killers. He blew out a breath and clamped down on the surge of rage that wanted to spill out. No time for that.

  Chloe approached with Hank. She’d taken him out to the edge of the woods to do his business, and he now trotted happily at her side, his toy once again clenched in those powerful jaws.

  And then she hugged Blake.

  Surprised, he froze, then wrapped his arms around her and squeezed until she gasped. Loosening his hold, he rested his forehead on hers. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t. Not really. Want me to take you to pick up your truck?” she asked.

  He’d left it at the office that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “Yes.”

  His phone rang and he grabbed it, not recognizing the number. Rachel? Did he dare hope? Blake pulled the earpiece out of his ear and lifted his phone. “Hello? Rachel?”

  Chloe’s eyes widened.

  “It’s me. I’m sorry.” Rachel’s sobs wrenched at his heart.

  “Where are you?”

  “They caught me, Dad. I wasn’t smart enough. I’m sorry.”

  “Tell me where you are.”

  “I don’t know where I am. They want you to kill that judge, Dad, or they’re going to kill me.” He was having a hard time discerning her words through her tears, but he got it. “I don’t want to die, Daddy! Help me! But don’t do it! Don’t kill him. Just find me!”

  His heart shattered. “Rachel—”

  “You’re the only one who can save me, Daddy.”

  “I will, Rachel, I’ll find you, I promise.”

  “Sorry, Rachel’s gone now,” a hard voice said. “And I really doubt you’ll find her.”

  Blake flinched. “You’re asking the impossible.” He kept his voice low, aware of Chloe’s watchful eyes.

 

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