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He wouldn’t come back to the house to feed Sean through the woodchipper while he was still alive, although that would have been immensely satisfying. He also wouldn’t take the time – now or later – to put a bullet into poor Gayle. Instead he’d leave word for Decker to come by in a week or so. The woman would be dead by then – her heart wasn’t so good. Decker could return the body to the O’Ba
He slipped down the curved staircase for the last time. He made no sound, his gun at the ready, just in case. But he heard no one. Saw no one.
He paused in the laundry room to ensure the silencer was fixed to his gun. He’d put a bullet through Sean’s skull before he drove away. It was far better than the little bastard deserved, but at this point, getting away was all that mattered.
He stepped into the garage and froze.
Sean was gone.
Cinci
Wednesday 5 August, 11.20 P.M.
‘What’s in the big shed?’ Kate asked Agent Davenport after hauling him to his feet. He rose with a natural grace to brush the dirt and leaves away from his jeans, then his shirt. But some of the leaves stuck to his shirt and he had to peel them off. He dropped them to the ground, each one sticky with blood. ‘Shit. Are you hit?’
‘No. Not my blood. The shed is their body disposal unit,’ he said tersely, and started walking back to the house within the walls. ‘Complete with a woodchipper. They dig a big hole, aim the chipper at it, sludge the bodies, add a pinch of composting materials . . .’ He wore an expression of disgust. ‘Voilà. No more bodies. When the hole is filled, they take down the shed, dig another hole, move the chipper, and put the shed back up.’
Oh my God. ‘Why were you in there?’
‘I was hiding someone. Do you have medical backup? Because there’s a guy in that shed who will need help.’
‘Two ambulances. They’ll be waiting at the main road. Where’s your handler?’
The large blond stopped abruptly. ‘What do you mean? You haven’t talked to him?’
‘He hasn’t checked in for two days. He’s overdue.’
‘Shit. Then you don’t have Reuben Blackwell or Jason Jackson in custody?’
‘No,’ she said and his jaw went taut. ‘Who are those men?’
Agent Davenport grabbed her arm. ‘Get someone to 5487 Wharton Court ASAP,’ he commanded. ‘Agent Symmes is my handler. If he doesn’t have ID for whatever reason, he’s got a zipper tattoo around his biceps. The other two guys will be Sweeney’s men. You don’t want them walking free, trust me. If Symmes hasn’t called in, something is very, very wrong.’
Kate made the call, then looked up at him. ‘What’s going on here, Davenport? Who are Reuben Blackwell and Jason Jackson?’
‘Reuben Blackwell is Sweeney’s head of security and Jackson is one of Reuben’s men. If you don’t have them, how do you know about Sweeney?’
‘Figured it out the hard way, obviously,’ she said, starting to walk again. ‘If Sweeney’s in the house, we need to get there too. Two of my team are in there. Rescue operation. Sweeney took a hostage when he shot up the Ledger building.’
‘That’s why I came back. I heard Sweeney had taken a hostage and I thought I might be able to get her out.’
‘Thank you. Tell me about Sweeney’s operation.’
‘Sweeney’s the boss of the trafficking ring. He had three partners – Reuben Blackwell, Demetrius Russell and Joel Whipple.’
‘Demetrius we know about,’ she said. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’
Surprise flashed in Davenport’s blue eyes. ‘Yeah. How did you know?’
‘He was stabbed by the young man he tried to murder last night. Phillip Cauldwell.’
‘Oh, that’s not how he died,’ Davenport said darkly. ‘His body is hidden in the big shed along with Sean, Sweeney’s son. Sean tried a coup, but Daddy wasn’t having it. Sean is the IT guy and he’s not quite dead yet. If you can save him, he has access to data you need. He’s the guy who needs the ambulance and the medics need to make him a priority.’
‘Got it. Have you seen Gayle E
‘No, but if she’s in the house, he’s probably taken her to the basement.’
‘Which is where Bishop and O’Ba
‘The newspaper guy and the detective? They don’t know what they’re dealing with.’
Kate shook her head. ‘They have a real good idea. Where is everyone else? This place is like a ghost town.’
‘Either dead or in jail. They all turned on each other at the end. The accountant, Joel, should be at his house. He’s got the books. All the books.’ He rattled off an address.
Kate called it in. ‘Got it. We’ve got agents on their way. What’s in the little shed?’
‘It’s storage. But the power lines are there.’
‘Did you cut the power?’
‘Yes. I saw you on the security camera when you climbed the tree to check out the compound. I was hoping you were my backup. Did you find the two ankle trackers I left at the Anders place?’
She nodded. ‘That was you too? Where are the three Anderses?’
‘Sweeney killed the parents.’ He drew a slashing line across his throat. ‘Made quite a mess. Did it in front of the daughter.’
‘Stephanie,’ Kate said. ‘What happened to her?’
‘She’s still alive. Sweeney told me to kill her too, but I hid her in the big shed, behind some packing crates. Stephanie Anders. Piece of work, that one. She’s tied and gagged. You can have her. Watch her fingernails,’ he added, disgruntled. ‘They’re lethal.’
Kate bit back a smile. ‘Noted. We have her boyfriend in custody, by the way. Detroit Field Office found him. Drake Co
Davenport’s smile was vicious. ‘Good. She was the heir apparent, you know. She’s Sweeney’s daughter.’
‘Makes sense. We found photos of them at her college graduation in the background of other people’s pictures.’
‘Facebook?’
Kate nodded. ‘Gotta love it.’
‘When you take Stephanie in, you’ll find a guy named Dave Burton with her – he was Reuben’s second-in-command and was acting as Sweeney’s security head. His hands are dirty too. Sweeney told me to kill him, so I hid them together. Sweeney thinks they’re mush in the pit. As far as I know, he doesn’t suspect me. Yet.’
‘Got it,’ Kate said. ‘Let’s find Sweeney. I want to end this.’
Cinci
Wednesday 5 August, 11.20 P.M.
Marcus crept down the stairs, stowing his fear at leaving Scarlett alone at the top. She could take care of herself. The knowledge left him free to focus on listening and watching – for Gayle and for the trap he was sure waited somewhere.
The basement was largely underground, but there must have been a couple of small windows somewhere, because a faint light filtered into the dark space below. Marcus put off using his flashlight, aware that it would make him a target if someone was waiting for him. It had been too easy to get into the property, too easy to get into the house.
He made himself go as still as death, listening for inhales, exhales. He heard a sniffling. Not a sob, but more than a sigh. It was coming from the far corner of the basement, the location consistent with that of the cage in the video that Sweeney had sent.
Gayle. She was alive. Relief had his heart racing and his knees going weak.
He crept up to the cage, barely able to make out the outline of her body in the darkness. ‘Gayle,’ he whispered. ‘It’s me.’
He heard a swiftly indrawn breath, then a muffled sob that broke his heart in two. Quickly he pulled the bolt cutters from the backpack and, going by touch, snapped the lock off the cage and carefully set it aside. He pulled the blanket from the pack and opened the cage door, wincing when it squeaked. But no bullets came flying and he heard no other sounds except Gayle’s sobs.