Maddy gasped and rocked back. “Quinn.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t even bother to cover them up,” she breathed.
He felt sick. He’d seen a lot during his years in law enforcement, but he had to admit this was the first mass grave he’d come across.
A branch snapped behind them and they spun at the same time. Only to find the dog had followed them. “Watson,” he rasped. The dog trembled and he simply collapsed at the edge of the trees. Quinn went to him and scratched the animal’s head. He felt hot and Quinn figured his wound was infected.
“I guess he didn’t want to be left behind either,” Maddy said softly.
“Guess not.” Without thinking, he drew in a deep breath. Immediately regretted it and coughed. “All right, let’s get away from here so we can breathe and figure out our next plan of action.”
“I’m good with that.” Together, they moved toward the house, silently watching the area around them. Watson heaved himself to his feet to follow, his steps slow, painful, determined to keep up.
Quinn’s nerves drew his skin tight and he almost expected to feel the tip of a bolt slam into him. However, they made it to the edge of the property without snarling dogs attacking them or any weapons being fired in their direction. Or tripping any more booby traps.
“Be careful,” she cautioned. “That could have been him who left in the plane, but he could have left behind help.”
She stared at the house, and he knew she was evaluating the best way to get in, watching for any movement that might suggest someone was inside. When she was attacked and had her throat slit almost a year ago, it had damaged her confidence, thrown her off her game. As it would anyone. But he’d watched her come back from the brink of death to become the woman she was before the initial attack.
And now this. Since they’d awakened in the room, she’d let him take the lead for the most part, and he knew it was because she felt shaky in her fear, afraid to make the wrong decision. Scared she’d miss something and get them both killed.
Now, as he looked at her, he saw the old Maddy starting to emerge. She had a new fire in her eyes and her tight jaw said she’d come to some conclusion with her internal struggle. She also had flushed cheeks that he didn’t think had to do with the heat. Fever? If so, she wasn’t letting it hold her back.
“Okay,” she whispered. “So, I see cameras on the exterior near the front door. Two on either side of the house.”
“And probably more around on the back.”
She breathed deep. “All right, so there’s absolutely no way to approach the house without one of the cameras alerting him. Or whoever is in there.”
“If someone is in there.”
“And we need to find that out.” She tapped her chin. “Well, here goes nothing.”
She stood and started walking toward the house.
Quinn froze for half a second. “Maddy,” he hissed. She ignored him and kept going. “Maddy . . .” She never turned. He was going to . . . what?
Follow her.
Biting his tongue on the lashing he’d like to let fly, he slipped up behind her as she led him straight up the front porch steps.
She reached for the knob, then paused. Stepped to the side with Quinn right behind her. She twisted the knob and pushed the door open.
Quinn’s breath caught in his throat as he half expected bullets or a bolt to come flying out the opening.
Instead, the only thing moving was the island. The sounds, the animals, the ocean on the other side of the house. “All right then,” he finally said, “that was dumb.”
“But effective.”
“True. Ready to go in?” he asked.
Before they could take a step, Quinn saw Watson out of the corner of his eye. The dog slowly crossed the yard, every step obviously painful for him. Quinn almost moved to help him but held still, his hand on the curve of Maddy’s waist. Together, they watched the dog climb the steps and limp into the house. Heat radiated off Maddy and he realized his guess was right. She had a fever.
They followed behind Watson, then Maddy stepped ahead of him, rounding the door like she had a weapon in her hand and was ready to use it. Quinn wished she did. He stayed behind her, worried about her physical state as well as her mental one at this point. Once inside, Quinn shut the door behind them.
Watson went into the kitchen and slumped to the floor in front of the sink. “He’s thirsty,” she whispered. “So am I.”
He pushed her to the floor. “Sit. I’ll get you both something as soon as I know we’re safe. I’m going to check the rest of the house. You stay put. Scream your head off if anyone comes in, understand?”
“Yeah.” She licked her lips and he noticed the bright flush in her cheeks. He had to get help to the island ASAP. He checked the kitchen drawers and found a large knife. He pressed it into her hand. “Use this if necessary.”
She looked at him with dulled eyes. “Haven’t you heard you don’t take a knife to a crossbow fight?”
He wondered how high her fever was. “No, that’s a new one,” he said. “Stay here.”
She didn’t answer and he moved fast to clear the rest of the house. It was a fairly large house with four bedrooms and four bathrooms, a bonus room, and an office that he’d be back to look at when he was finished making sure they were safe for the moment. “No booby traps,” he whispered, “and no weapons.” Frustration nipped at him. He wanted to feel the weight of a weapon in his hand so bad that he was close to going through withdrawal. He whirled to hurry back to the kitchen to find Maddy where he’d left her. Watson had stayed put too. “It’s clear,” he said. “But I couldn’t find weapons of any kind.”
“Guess the knife will have to do.” She pushed herself to her feet, pain and misery written all over her face.
He went to her, took the knife from her hand, and set it on the counter. He then raided the kitchen pantry and found dog food, which he poured into the bowl next to the laundry room. Fresh water in the other bowl caught Watson’s attention and he went to work on it.
Next Quinn opened the refrigerator and found water bottles. The same kind their captor had served with their dinner in the cement room. He grabbed two and opened one. “Here, there’s plenty more. Drink.” She didn’t argue with him. He opened the other one and finished it in several gulps. “All right, Maddy, let’s find a way to call for help.”
She swayed, but pushed away from the counter. “Show me where the phone is.”
Instead of answering her, he swooped her into his arms. She laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. He carried her to the office he’d cleared only moments before. His goal was the leather couch on the wall opposite the large desk. He gently placed her on the sofa and felt her forehead. Hot.
Her eyes fluttered and she tried to sit. “I’ll help you search.”
“No, I’ve got this. Just rest.”
She flopped back and that worried him more than if she’d insisted she could help. He raced out of the office and down the hall, through the master bedroom and into the en suite bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet he’d seen on his sweep and studied the bottles there. Prescription and several over-the-counter bottles. He pulled them out one by one, reading them. Noting the names on the prescription labels. He’d come back to those later.
Finally, after he was just about to give up, he found the ibuprofen. He doubled-checked to make sure the medicine was what the label said it was, then downed three. He bolted to the kitchen, grabbed another bottle of water from the refrigerator, then made his way back into the office. Maddy was still conscious, but her eyes fluttered as though she wanted to resist resting, sleeping.
He lifted her shoulders, careful of the sore one, and sat behind her. “Here.”
“What?”
“Take this medicine, it’ll make you feel better.”
She blinked again and he helped her sit up a little farther. After she swallowed three of the pills, he let her lie back down and then moved to the desk. No phone.
He started opening drawers and found files, papers, and other items, but no phone. He tried the file cabinet behind him. Locked.
“Wait, there were keys,” he muttered. Which drawer was it? Top left.
He pulled it open and grabbed the ring of keys. He found the one he thought might fit and jammed it in the lock. Wonder of wonders, it opened on the first try. He pulled out the first drawer and his heart nearly stopped. A satellite phone.
He grabbed it and powered it on, then went back to sit beside Maddy. He could almost hear his adrenaline rushing through his veins. His heart thudded as he dialed his partner’s number. “Come on, Bree, pick up.”
Just about when he was going to give up hope and hang up, she answered. “Hello?”
He heard the caution in her voice and knew it was because she hadn’t recognized the number. “Bree.”
“Quinn!” Her shout made him wince. “Where are you?” she demanded. “Are you okay? Is Maddy with you? Olivia and Wade found a note resembling our serial killer’s MO in Maddy’s house.”
“Slow down and listen. Yes, I’m fine. Maddy’s with me and she’s sick. I don’t know where I am. We were kidnapped by a white male. Bald. And with a sick idea of fun and games. I need you to find a way to trace this satellite phone.”
“I was just walking into the office when your call came through. Give me a minute to get to my computer.” He heard her footsteps going at a fast walk. “Everyone’s been so worried about you guys. We’ve been looking everywhere. Tried to trace your phones and came back empty.”
“The guy who kidnapped us probably smashed them and then dumped them somewhere. I sure hope someone has Sherlock.”
“I let him out in your yard earlier. He’s fine.”
Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d been worried about the little guy.
“All right,” Bree said. “I’m at my desk, let me get the software pulled up.” He heard the keyboard clicking in the background. “I’ve got the number you called from and it’s in the system now. You better hope that thing has its GPS system turned on.” He waited, impatience ripping through him. “And . . . there you are. I’ve got you.”
“Where are we?”
“Off the coast of Key West. You’re on an island called Hogan’s House.”
“That’s the name on the medicine bottles. Hogan.”
“What?”
“Have someone run the name Keith Hogan. Find out all you can about him. And send a chopper filled with a SWAT team. We might need to dispense with the guy if he’s still on the island. Make that two choppers. Maddy needs a doctor.” He glanced at his arm where Watson had torn the flesh. “And I probably do too. And a vet.”
“A what?”
“A veterinarian. You know, an animal doctor.”
“I know what a vet is, Holcombe. Why do you need one?”
“I have a new friend who needs some help, okay? Now quit asking questions and just do it.” He thought he heard her mutter something under her breath about him being bossy, but he didn’t care. She could mutter whatever she wanted as long as she got help on the way.
He glanced at Maddy’s face. It didn’t seem to be quite as flushed as before. Maybe the ibuprofen was working.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“Yeah, I need a crime scene unit, a forensic anthropologist, a medical examiner, and whoever else you can think of. We’ve got a mass grave with possibly ten bodies in it.”
She gasped and fell silent.
“Bree?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Her voice shook slightly, then she cleared her throat. “I’m calculating the time it’s going to take to get there. If I’m looking at the island right on this satellite program, it looks like there’s room for at least two choppers to land at the same time. First we’re going to get you and Maddy out of there and to the hospital in Key West.”
“And Watson.”
“What?”
“Watson. The reason for the vet.”
“And the vet. Okay, I know a people doc and an animal doc who both owe me favors.” Her fingers continued to fly over the keyboard. He could hear them. “All right,” she said, “we should be there . . .” She sighed. “It’s going to be at least two hours—maybe three. I’m going to contact the local authorities. They’ll be able to get out there a lot faster.”
“We’ll be here.”
“Putting it all together as we speak. I’m going to go run this by the captain and then I’ll be out the door, heading to the chopper to pick up everyone. Looks like I’m going to be one of your pilots.”
“Thanks, Bree.”
“Can’t wait to hear this story.”
“Can’t wait to tell it,” he murmured. He hung up, and it was only then he noticed the note on the back of the phone.
Congratulations, you’ve won this round and have the honored privilege of advancing to the next. Now it gets a bit personal. Until we meet again, my friend . . .