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Almost before the SUV stopped, Combs bounded from the car to climb over, around and under trees tumbled across the front of September's property. The gate hung by one hinge, and a battered old car he didn't recognize sat nearby.
The tornado's pick-up-sticks game left the proud brick fortress in rubble. Barely half the house stood, the rest blown away to God knows where. The old carriage house on one side had vanished.
A rescue worker tried to stop him, until he flashed his badge. "Who's in charge?" The man pointed, and Combs raced to a cluster of firefighters and two police officers, their expressions grim. "Anyone? Did you find any survivors?" Combs stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking. September said his kids were fine. Now this?
"No sir, Detective Combs." The firefighter scanned the area. "Found one body. Female, dark hair, early to mid-thirties."
Combs slumped against the wall as Gonzales caught up to him. "They found September." He croaked the words, tongue thick. "No sign of the kids." Doc Eugene trotted up, too, but Combs didn't care enough to make him leave.
"Uh, Detective? Sorry, I understand you knew her. We're waiting on the team to process the crime scene. We've not moved the body."
His eyebrows rose. “Show me." Combs followed the man, Gonzales in his wake. Doc Eugene trailed them until Combs glared and the veterinarian stepped back.
The body—too small for September—sprawled face down. Sudden relief switched to worry, wondering where she’d gone. This woman had been shot, the bloody wound clearly visible. The tornado probably finished the job. "Who is she?"
"Claire O'Dell. That's the I.D. in the car by the gate, anyway, but she doesn't resemble her license anymore. There's blood in the car, too. The wound is through and through, so the bullet could still be in the car."
"O'Dell. Where do I know that name?" Gonzales scribbled notes in his ever-present pad.
One of the firefighters yelled, bent over, and picked up something dark that struggled and then settled in his arms. "Found a cat."
Combs motioned Doc Eugene forward. "Must be Macy. That cat has nine lives." September would be relieved, once he found her. And his kids. "Take care of Macy for us, Doc?"
The veterinarian cradled the big Maine Coon in his arms. "We'll wait for you in the car. Lucky I came along after all, eh?"
Gonzales stayed to talk with the first responders, while Combs followed the veterinarian to the road to examine O'Dell's car. It wasn't locked. He opened the passenger door, pulling on gloves first. Keys remained in the ignition. Despite the bunged up appearance from the hail, the inside of the car was tidy, except for broken window glass and the dark stain against the driver's seat back. He poked the hole in the upholstery, noting it went clear through. Perhaps they'd find the bullet in the back.
Combs opened the glove box, and leafed through the papers. He found registration and insurance naming Mike and Claire O'Dell. A purse on the floor produced a wallet with a few crumpled bills, and the driver’s license of a pretty snub-nosed woman. He also found an intricate picture, probably drawn by one of the woman's kids. He frowned, reading the inscription.
No worry Tracy and me fix.
Two kids in a van. One with a pill bottle. He squinted, and held the page under the overhead light. Everything clicked when he focused on one tiny detail. The pill bottle label named the patient, Tracy O'Dell, and the medication. Damenia.
"Gonzales,” Combs yelled, “We gotta go." He slammed the car door, taking the colored picture with him. When he hit redial again, the number still went to September's voice mail.
The smaller man ran from the destroyed house and they met at the SUV. Combs thrust the drawing at Gonzales. "You can't see it without a light, but trust me. The pill bottle with that little kid says Damenia."
"No shit." Gonzales handed back the picture. "Her kids?"
"I think so, yes." He slapped his forehead. "That's why O'Dell sounded familiar. Claire O'Dell was one of the parents we questioned at the Rebirth Gathering last November."
"Right. There were nearly 200 kids, all with at least one parent, and not one said a word. And that was a single Gathering, we don't know how many others came before." Gonzales opened the car door and climbed behind the wheel.
About one out of every 88 children fell into the Spectrum, a 78 percent increase in the last ten years. Parents of these kids were ripe for the Doctor’s pitch. "Her kids must have run away, like Doty said. O'Dell figured out they headed here, and contacted September to help. That’s why she wanted the P.I." He paused, and snapped his fingers.
"Kelvin." They said the name at the same time.
"Kelvin already had a shady deal going with the Doctor. Bet you my pension the Doctor killed Kelvin." Combs's phone rang. Maybe it was September. He answered without looking. "Combs here."
"My guy says you're at your girlfriend's house searching for AWOL kids.” Doty, in a perpetual state of pissed, sounded ready to explode. “A whole shit-load of delinquents just got pulled over driving some god-awful pick-'em-up truck without a license." She breathed heavily. "Now you're all caught up on your freaking family ties, are you ready to do your job, Detective?"
"Wait. What?" Combs ran a hand through his hair. "You found my kids?"
"Found your son, your daughter, couple of pets and their joy-riding friends." She laughed without humor. "Patrol saw them weaving all over the road, with some sort of high metal rig hanging off the back. Redheaded girl behind the wheel said she belonged to you." She grudgingly added, "They appeared to be fine, but I instructed Patrol to transport to the hospital and check everyone out."
Combs closed his eyes, and breathed with relief.
"They tell a wild story we gotta sort out, and mentioned Pit Bulls. And September." She continued, acerbic as ever. "Why is she always involved when something goes sideways? Don’t know what you see in her, Combs. But according to your kids, they weathered the storm with September in a barn. So you and Gonzales get out there, now."
The news made his heart sing despite Doty's prickly tone. He didn't know how or why she'd ended up there, but he had no doubt they’d find September at the barn. Combs quickly brought Doty up to speed on the O'Dell woman's identity, and what it meant, and disconnected. Doty promised to send backup.
Doc Eugene leaned forward. "Did I hear right? The kids are fine?"
Combs nodded. "Let's go get us a bad guy."
Gonzales started the car. "Hang on tight, Doc. What do you know about dogfights?"
