Driven

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Jethro shoved his laptop into his pack. “I’m with you. We need to talk this out like we did last time. If it is Lassiter, he’s had at least five years to plan this. He couldn’t go that long without killing.”

  “No.” Angus turned at the door. “So, either he was killing and we haven’t found victims, or there was a reason he couldn’t kill during that time frame.” He smacked his hand against the wall. “Or the bastard is dead and this is somebody new.” He straightened. “If it is somebody new, how does he know so much? We need to go back through old files.” He scouted the team. “All right. Mal, Dana, Pippa, and Wolfe, you proceed as if this is a new killer. Explore all avenues. Nari, Jethro, and I will proceed as if it was Lassiter because we know that case well.”

  The group nodded.

  Angus angled toward the speakerphone. “Raider and Brigid? Figure out who the hell shot at me yesterday. I don’t see a connection to the serial killer, so it might be related to one of our closed cases.”

  Nari nodded. “That’s a good plan.” She reached for her raincoat, which was hanging by the door. Her knees wobbled just enough that she had to take her time shrugging into it. Their team leader had intrigued her from the beginning, and Angus had never been more in control than today.

  Angus paused. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With you.” She patted Roscoe’s head and swept by Angus into the stormy day. “We’re on the same team, remember?”

  * * *

  Rain beat the area beneath the graffiti-riddled bridge, muddying the sopping wet brown leaves. The crime scene tape remained, but the area had been cleared, and Angus looked up at the distance to the top. It was no wonder the woman’s face had been unrecognizable if she’d landed on one of the nearby rocks.

  “The area is rather secluded,” Jethro said, scanning through the rain while petting Roscoe’s wet head. “Although that jogging path is frequently used. This guy doesn’t mind taking a chance at being seen, does he?”

  “He’s overconfident rather than reckless,” Angus said. His phone buzzed, and upon seeing it was Tate, he answered. “What do you have?”

  Tate cleared his throat. “Wasn’t Millie Frost.”

  Relief nearly dropped him, followed by a strong punch of guilt. Somebody was dead, and that person was as important as his team member. Angus turned toward Nari, who stared at him with wide, dark eyes. Not Millie, he mouthed.

  She sagged.

  “Who was it?” Angus asked.

  Papers shuffled across the line as Tate read. “Young runaway from Texas who’s been missing for a year. My guess is he found her on the street. The pink streaks in the hair are new, leading us to believe the killer actually sprayed them in, and her face was bashed before she was tossed from the bridge.” Tate’s voice lowered to a whisper. “HDD called here and I’m getting heat that they’re infringing on our case. Did you forget your interviews with them today?”

  Angus started. “Shit. Yeah, I did.” Damn it. He’d completely forgotten. How could he forget something like that? “I’ll make it right.”

  “See that you do. I’m getting looks here and have to stop talking to you,” Tate said. “I’m sending you the sketch of the scene, so you know where the body fell, but don’t call me again. If I need your help, I’ll reach out to you.”

  “Wait. Was there a note?” Angus asked.

  Tate sighed. “Not this time.”

  “Damn it, Tate. There had to have been a note. He left one last time.” Angus’s voice rose, and he quickly quashed all emotion. “Have the coroner check the body carefully.”

  “No shit.” Tate clicked off.

  Angus winced. Tate was probably his last friend in Metro, and that was stretching it. He looked around. “Sounds like Metro and the HDD are butting heads, which only helps us for now. They didn’t find a note. There has to be a note.” The text came in and he scanned the sketch. “According to Metro, the body was over here.” Running over to the area indicated on the sketch, he studied the leaves, scattering them.

  “The techs would’ve searched the entire area,” Nari said gently.

  “There’s a note.” Angus would bet his life on it. He overturned a rock. Nothing. Going methodically, he turned over each rock in the area, finding nothing but dirt and bugs. “Where is it, damn it?”

  Jethro looked up toward the bridge. “I’ll scout the bridge.” He turned and jogged gracefully up the hill, only breaking stride a couple of times because of his newly healed leg. Roscoe kept pace with him and stopped to shake his fur at the top.

  Heat coated Angus’s throat and he coughed out the frustration. The rain pounded harder. “Why don’t you wait in the car, Nari?”

  She tugged the hood of her raincoat over her head. “It’s my fault for forgetting my umbrella. I’ll go search over by the creek.” She turned and slipped on the leaves but kept trudging toward what looked more like a long mud puddle than a creek.

  Angus tried to forget that two people he cared about were possibly risking their lives to help him. He studied the area, making sure no cars approached. If anybody came upon them from the woods, Roscoe would catch a scent.

  Even so, Jethro and Nari shouldn’t be there. He would have expected the woman to think he was nuts, but instead she was going along with his delusion. She deserved so much better than this disaster. She’d been in a fight the day before, was still bruised, and should be resting by a fire with a good book. Instead, she was out in the freezing rain, looking for a clue that probably didn’t exist.

  He couldn’t stop the team from working this case, but he didn’t have to let them court danger.

  His phone buzzed and he looked down to see a familiar number. “Hi, Serena,” he said. “How are you?”

  “I’m being tailed by two HDD agents,” the professor said, sounding more bemused than angry. “Why? We only worked that one case together and it was months ago. Even if your team is in danger, as these nice agents have informed me, I’m not on your team.”

  Angus studied the trees up the bank. Surely the techs had canvassed the entire area. “I’m just being overly cautious. The world doesn’t have enough geniuses; I’d hate to lose one.”

  “Sure it does. Anybody with an IQ over one-sixty is a genius,” Serena said thoughtfully.

  He was too tired to feel amused, but his lips twitched anyway. “Oh. Of course.” Lightning zinged the earth close enough he could smell ozone.

  “Where are you?” Serena asked.

  “At a crime scene looking for a note that doesn’t exist,” he said, turning to make sure Nari was all right by the creek.

  Serena was quiet for a minute. “In the rain? Nobody would leave a note in the rain, and it’s been raining for weeks. Should snow soon. Statistically it should’ve snowed yesterday, but that’s another story, and one you probably don’t have time for right now.”

  “True.” He had a flashback to her trying to explain something called methods for entanglement verification to him one time when she’d dropped by the office to meet Brigid, and he shivered. “Thanks, though.”

  “Anytime. Let me know when I can lose the feds.” She hung up, no doubt already on to her next puzzle.

  Angus slipped his phone in his pocket. She was right. It didn’t make sense to leave a note in the rain. There had to be some sort of clue with the body. “Let’s go, gang,” he called out. “I want to drop by the morgue.”

  Nari hunched her shoulders against the rain and picked her way toward him. “We’ll need to dry off Roscoe. I’ll hurry ahead and get the towel out of the back seat.”

  Angus turned to examine one more time the place the victim had been. He looked up as Jethro descended the embankment. The bridge caught his attention. Swirls and lines. Gang tags. He recognized a couple, and then the muscles down his back tensed. “Nari.” He grasped her arm to turn her toward a concrete piling. “What do you see?”

  She turned and squinted, tiling her head. “Is that a dog?”

  “Yeah.” The outline
of a German shepherd was barely discernible, laid over several gang monikers. He moved forward, squinting as the sun went down. “Ah, crap.” Lifting his phone, he pressed Redial.

  “I told you not to call me,” Tate said by way of greeting.

  “You’re gonna want to get down here.” Angus leaned closer to the painted message. “I found the note.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dinner had been a quiet affair with the team before everyone left. Exhausted, Nari had gone to bed and snuggled down. The cabin was warm, even a little steamy, with the rain continuing outside. So she’d worn a pink cami with matching shorts. It was more than warm enough, yet she couldn’t sleep. Her body hurt, her mind ran too fast, and electricity arced between her and Angus.

  They were in bed together. Again. The memories of what Angus could do in bed made her restless. And needy.

  Several hours later, after listening interminably to the fire crackle, she couldn’t take it anymore. The man in the bed with her was too quiet. “Are you sleeping?” she whispered, turning on her side to face Angus.

  “No.”

  She hadn’t thought so. “Are you still trying to figure out what that phrase means?”

  “No.” He stretched, and the firelight licked along the smooth muscles of his arm. “Jethro will figure it out tomorrow.”

  She sighed. Jethro hadn’t returned to the cabin with them, saying he had a meeting at the college. “You’re not sleeping, which means the case is on your mind. Right?”

  “Yeah.” He turned to face her, mumbling the quotation they’d found painted inside the dog outline. “The forest watches, the darkness knows, the time is coming—can you feel the change?” He levered himself up on one arm. “It sounds kind of dumb, if you want the truth. I’m more interested in the outline of the dog’s face and the symbols scratched into the rock beneath it.”

  Her breath quickened. It was totally inappropriate right now, but with all that powerful muscle so close, she had to force her brain to stay on track. “The symbols might’ve been left by the gangs.”

  “Maybe,” Angus allowed.

  Roscoe snored softly at the edge of the bed.

  Angus studied her, his eyes blazing through the soft light. Tension rolled from him, thick with lust. “Um.”

  “Me too.” She met him halfway. When his mouth crashed down on hers the delicious feeling tingled to her toes. She kissed him back, partially pressing herself up against him with her feet trapped on the other side of the dog.

  “You sure?” Angus tangled a hand in her hair, his mouth roving wildly over her jaw and down her neck. “This is crazy.”

  “I know,” she mumbled against his mouth, running her hands over his hard chest. Desire swamped her and she tried to free her feet so she could scoot closer. She needed to get closer to him. Now.

  Roscoe lifted his head. He barked once—low and dark.

  She chuckled. “Ros—”

  Angus grabbed her by the arms and pulled her out of the bed, settling her on the floor. Her butt landed first—hard—and the cold wood chilled her thighs. Roscoe leapt off the bed and ran for the front door.

  “What is happening?” she gasped, trying to stand.

  “Down. Stay down.” Angus pulled his gun from beneath the pillow and crouched low, moving toward the front window. The firelight illuminated the scars across his muscled back as he moved silently. “One bark like that means danger. Keep your head down.”

  Her gun was on the other side of the bed. She kept below the top mattress and crawled around the edge of the bed to the other side, pulling her Glock from her purse. Then she aimed for the back door, her arms on the mattress.

  The front window shattered and something rolled across the floor.

  “Grenade!” Angus leapt for it, grabbed it, and threw it toward the broken window before Nari could react. An explosion rocked the front porch, and more glass blew inward.

  Nari scrambled away from the front door, rushing for the kitchen with Angus and the dog on her heels. Another grenade sailed through the front window.

  She ran out the back door and looked around.

  “Trail,” Angus whispered. “Follow Roscoe.” He whistled.

  Roscoe bounded into the rainy night, somehow able to see despite the darkness. Nari ran behind him, her bare feet slipping on the wet weeds until they reached the muddy trail. Small rocks bit into her heels, but she kept going. They didn’t have a chance against an attacker with grenades.

  The cabin exploded and debris blew toward them. Angus tackled her to the ground and she landed hard, the air whooshing from her lungs. Her bare knees and palms scraped against rocks and slid through the mud. Pain throbbed up her wrist to her elbow. Before she could draw a breath, he manacled her around the waist, partially lifted her, and started running again.

  They reached a turnoff on the trail, and he followed Roscoe, setting her down next to a tree trunk. “You okay?” He crouched, barely visible in the dark.

  She nodded, her heart hammering her rib cage, mud squishing beneath her thighs.

  “Nari?” he whispered, his hand cupping the back of her neck.

  Oh. He couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she whispered, shock thickening her voice. “I’m fine.”

  “Good. Stay here with Roscoe.” He began to stand. “Roscoe, guard,” he commanded.

  “No.” She grabbed his wet arm and tried to pull him back down. Her ears rang and her head pounded. “Whoever it is has grenades, Angus. Who knows what else they have.”

  “I know. Stay here and out of sight. We don’t know how many of them there are.” He pivoted on his bare foot and instantly disappeared back down the trail; she could just make him out, his figure silhouetted by the fire at the cabin.

  Nari shivered and edged partially around the tree, positioning herself on her knees and pointing her gun toward the cabin. Her arms shook from the chilly rain and probably from shock. Her mind was fuzzy and she tried to sharpen her focus, just in case. She wasn’t trained as an agent, but she’d learned how to shoot.

  The gun felt cold and slippery in her wet hands.

  Roscoe stood at her side, his hackles up.

  “Go with him,” Nari whispered.

  The dog didn’t twitch. Now he decided to obey commands? Thunder bellowed as if angry with the night, and the fire crackled ominously up ahead, dark smoke spiraling into the sky.

  She gulped, trying to see, feeling vulnerable in her thin, wet cotton tank top and shorts. How many attackers were there?

  * * *

  Angus kept to the trees, circling around to the front of the cabin, his gun pointed and his aim steady. The fire burned hot and bright, despite the rain. Another explosion erupted from the front of the engulfed cabin, and he ducked as metal careened over his head.

  Damn it. Was that Nari’s car? He kept his back to a tree and pivoted around, swiftly maneuvering his feet through the mud. Rocks and sticks cut into his toes, but he ignored them, reaching the front area.

  The car was on fire, all four windows blasted out. The smell of gasoline combined with burning wood, choking the oxygen with sinister black smoke. The poison filled his eyes, causing them to tear. He blinked and withdrew more deeply into the trees while moving east, searching for the enemy through the smoke.

  If they’d blown up the car, they weren’t sure he was in the cabin, and they didn’t want him driving to safety.

  So he kept silent and moving.

  A dark truck blocked the dirt road out of the clearing. Navy blue? He couldn’t tell, but it was a Ford, and the windows looked tinted. Where were the occupants?

  Shadows flickered from the fire and, high above, lightning flashed.

  A figure, tall and broad, came into view near the hood of what used to be Nari’s car. There he was. Angus relaxed his grip and moved sideways, crossing one leg over the other repeatedly until he had a decent line of fire. He squeezed the trigger, and the figure dropped.

  Then he didn’t move. The forest was silent, while the fire roared.<
br />
  Did the guy have a partner? Angus remained in place, searching for any hint of movement. Nothing. If there was another attacker out there, he or she had training. Like Angus. He counted seconds and then minutes in his head. The fire continued to burn, hot enough that the rain couldn’t smother it. The smell of chemicals rode the rain. What accelerant had been used?

  “Angus?” Nari whispered.

  He jolted and partially turned to find her on the trail, mud covering most of her legs and feet. The rain had drenched her tiny tank top and shorts, clearly revealing her breasts, although she held her gun like she knew what to do with it. “This way,” he whispered, motioning her closer.

  She jumped and then turned, her eyes wide in the darkness. Then she lowered her hand and picked her way around a series of bushes to reach him. You okay? she mouthed, blood on her chin and rain sliding down her face.

  He gestured toward the prone figure on the ground. “Roscoe? Scout. Now.” He pointed toward the figure.

  Roscoe, his paws muddy, put his nose to the ground and moved toward the fire.

  Angus kept his gun at the ready, pointed at the prone figure. “Might have a partner,” he whispered.

  Nari turned, putting her back to him and covering the trail. “Got it.”

  Now wasn’t the time to ask her if she’d shot anybody before. He doubted it. Instead he concentrated on his dog. Roscoe ran in a zigzag pattern, silent, his tail not wagging. He went by the prone figure, sniffed, and then moved on, not alerting but not giving the all clear.

  Angus wiped soot out of his eye with his free hand. “The chemicals are strong, as is the smoke. He may not be able to track properly.” Was Nari up to this? “Are you okay covering me?” he asked, wishing the team was there.

  She looked over her shoulder and gulped. “Covering you?”

  He tugged her closer, put his mouth to her ear, and clipped command into his voice. “Yes. I have to see who that is on the ground, and there’s a chance we have other enemies out there. If anybody fires at me, shoot them.” It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all they had.