Spelling wrung his hands. “This doesn’t feel right. We haven’t heard a word from anyone.” He pulled his sleeve back and looked at his watch for the fifth time in ten minutes. “Check your phone, Bill. Maybe you missed the call from Deputy Reese.”
Bill Lewis pulled his phone out of his vest pocket. “No calls, sir.”
“We’ve been in this bird for nearly a half hour. The deputies should have called with an update. Where is the SWAT team? They should be at the cabin too.”
“I’ll try the number for the unit commander in Portage. I’m sure he went to the site with the team.” Bill pulled up the direct number for Corey Franklin, the SRT commander of the Portage team for the last nine years. He covered the microphone with his hand as it rang on the other end. “Just an FYI, sir. Portage has an SRT unit, not a SWAT team. All in all, they fulfill the same type of requirements and duties.” Spelling nodded and stared out the chopper’s window.
“Hello, is this Commander Franklin? Yes, it’s Agent Bill Lewis calling from the FBI. Our chopper should be landing at the Portage airport in about fifteen minutes. Does anyone have eyes on the cabin? Is there activity on that property?” Bill waited quietly as Commander Franklin spoke. “What? You’re sure, and it’s the right address?” Bill clenched his fist. “Yes, we’ll be there as soon as possible. Please get the coroner and a forensic team to the site.” Bill hung up from the call. “I don’t believe this shit!”
“Please tell me it isn’t J.T. and Julie.” I stared at my feet and felt hot tears welling up in my eyes. Maria squeezed my hand.
“They haven’t seen anyone except dead deputies in the woods. The cabin is in flames, the fire trucks just arrived, and there aren’t any vehicles at the scene except three sheriff’s department cruisers along the road. They’ve requested law enforcement’s help from as far away as Madison.”
“Oh my God,” Val said. “What happened to the sheriff, and where the hell are they headed now?”
“The sheriff may be another hostage. It’s possible they’re driving his vehicle. We need to get a BOLO on that car. Jade, call the Columbia County sheriff’s dispatch and find out who operates the neighborhood watch near those cabins. That’s the car we need to look for.” Spelling tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “How long before we land?”
The pilot pointed ahead. “We’re coming up on the Portage airport right now, sir. We’ll be on the ground in five minutes.”
“Bill, call the airport and make sure there are vehicles and a guide waiting on the tarmac for us. We’ll take a minute to use the facilities, and then we’re off.”
“I’m on it, sir.”
We landed and had to wait a minute for the blades to slow their rotation before we could exit the helicopter safely. Spelling jumped out and approached a man who stood alongside two black SUVs fifty feet away. They exchanged a few words, then Spelling turned toward us.
“Everyone, we’re leaving in those SUVs in five minutes. Bill, you can drive one, and this man, Dave Conway, will drive the lead vehicle. All right, do what you need to do and be back here in”—he checked his watch—“four minutes.”
We climbed in the Explorers a few minutes later. Dave, Spelling, Maria, and I were in the lead vehicle. Bill, Cam, and Val took up the rear.
“The location of the property in question is a ten-minute drive from here, Agent Spelling.”
“Thanks, Dave. Are you in law enforcement?”
“No, sir, I work for the airport. My job is to arrange transportation for people coming in or act as the driver. I know this area like the back of my hand. Born and raised in Portage, so any side road, logging path, or fire lane you need to find, I’m your man.”
“Good to know.” Spelling pulled out two contact cards and handed one to Dave. “May I have your phone number? We may need to call on you again if we’re here longer than today.”
“Sure thing.” Dave rattled off his phone number, and Spelling wrote it on the back of the second card then tucked it into his pocket. “Two more dirt roads and we’ll be at the property.”
Spelling pointed out the windshield. “I can see the smoke from here. We must be close.”
Dave pulled in behind the SRT vehicle and parked. Bill tucked his SUV in tight behind ours.
“I’ll wait here, sir,” Dave said.
Spelling nodded.
A navy blue van with Coroner written in white block letters sat empty along the ditch, and the forensics van was parked out of the way, nearer the woods. A half dozen Portage patrol cars, even out of their jurisdiction of the city limits, were parked along the road. We exited the vehicles and headed toward the firemen. Two water trucks were stationed within feet of what used to be the cabin, and eight firefighters manned the hoses. Smoke billowed, and what remained of the fire hissed against the force of the water. Charred logs, a caved-in roof, and remnants of a stone fireplace stood in front of us.
“Stay back, folks. This fire isn’t contained yet,” the firefighter nearest us said.
Spelling jerked his head toward the woods. “Looks like most everyone is out there. Let’s go introduce ourselves.”
The six of us headed into the heavy pinewoods, where we found the coroner and his assistant, the forensic team of three, city police officers there to help, and the SRT unit that consisted of Commander Franklin and six specially trained officers in tactical gear. Spelling took the lead and made the introductions to Commander Franklin.
“What did you come in on, Commander?”
“Call me Corey, please. I’m not the formal type. My unit and I arrived forty-five minutes ago after a short briefing at our headquarters. My men needed to know in advance what we might be walking in on—a possible hostage situation, sir.”
“Understood. Then what?”
“A few miles out, we noticed smoke above the tree line. I called the Portage fire department to see if they had been dispatched to any location in this area, which they hadn’t. I requested one water truck at the time since we didn’t know exactly where the fire was or its intensity. When we arrived at the scene, we came upon three cruisers parked along the ditch on the secondary road just west of the fire lane that leads to the cabin. The firefighters got here ten minutes later. The structure was totally engulfed in flames, and we feared the worst—that the deputies were inside. That’s when one of our men happened to notice the carnage out here in the woods.”
“You’re referring to the deputies?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And all three deputies were deceased when you came upon them?”
“That’s correct, Agent Spelling, and a few minutes later I received the call from Agent Lewis. Coroner McFadden and his assistant, Jack Demler, along with the forensic team, got here about twenty minutes ago. They’re in the preliminary stages of assessing the bodies.”
My cell phone rang, and I excused myself. “FBI Agent Jade Monroe speaking.”
“Agent Monroe, this is the Columbia County Sheriff’s Office dispatch operator calling back with the information you requested. Ma’am, what’s going on, and what happened to our deputies? Where is Sheriff Wells? It sounds like all hell is breaking loose. I’ve seen patrol cars speeding through town with their sirens blaring and lights flashing. They were heading out in that direction. I can’t reach anybody in our squad, Agent Monroe.”
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have detailed information yet. We just arrived at the scene. It’s going to be awhile before we have answers. Your name is?”
“Trisha Moorehead, ma’am.”
I heard her sniffle before she continued.
“The vehicle in question belongs to Billy Sommers. He does the neighborhood watch route twice a week. He said Sheriff Wells stopped by a few hours back and borrowed the car and left his cruiser at Billy’s house. When it’s in use, Billy attaches door magnets that show he’s with the neighborhood watch group. The car is a 2009 white Chevy Caprice. He bought it at the police car auction in 2011.”
“And what are the plate numbers, Trisha?”
“Wisconsin endangered resources plate number TLP-502. The gray wolf design is on the left.”
“Got it.” I pocketed my notepad and pen, thanked Trisha, then contacted the state patrol and issued a statewide BOLO for that vehicle.
After rejoining my team, which was gathered at the coroner’s back, I pulled Spelling aside so I wouldn’t interrupt the ongoing conversation. “Sir, the dispatch officer said the car is a four-door 2009 white Chevrolet Caprice. It has magnets on both front doors showing it’s the neighborhood watch vehicle. The car has the endangered resources plates, in this case, the gray wolf. Tag number is TLP-502. I’ve already put a BOLO out on it with the state patrol.”
“Good work, Jade. We can assume the magnets have been thrown away, and the tags could have been swapped out by now. Find out from the firefighters if there are any vehicles in the garage. If not, we have to assume Julie’s car or that dark van may be transporting our criminals too.”
“I’d doubt if the Pirelli brothers could fit in a Ford Fiesta. I’m guessing they’re using the Caprice and the van, where there’s more room for five people and the guns they’re carrying. Keep in mind, they somehow need a way to restrain J.T. and Julie. That leads me to think they’re in the van.”
“Good point, but nothing has hit on the BOLO for the van yet, has it?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. I’m sure the description was too vague, and we didn’t have a plate number, either.”
Spelling tipped his head toward the group. “Come on. Let’s go hear what the coroner has to say.” He craned his neck toward the fire trucks. “It looks like the fire is almost out. We’ll give them a few more minutes.”
“Agents.” The coroner pushed off his knee, stood, and glanced at his sticky gloves that were coated with sap, dirt, and pine needles. He pulled them off and rolled them into a ball, then he jammed them into his pocket and put on a clean pair. With a few words between them, the coroner pointed toward the van and the assistant headed in that direction. “Sorry. I asked Jack to get a few tarps to cover the deceased. It’s a real shame, you know. These men, whose job it is to protect the public, were gunned down without a chance in hell against something like an assault rifle. They got off a few shots”—he pointed at the weapons lying near the deputies—“but they were sitting ducks.” He looked up at the trees. “This woods is thick with pine trees, but they’re still relatively young. Their trunks aren’t strong enough or wide enough to take safe cover behind. “He pointed out the damage to the bark on the trees. “See how they exploded during the gunfire? That amount of damage comes from semi or fully automatic weapons, primarily assault rifles like the AK-47 or AR-15. Forensics concurred with my assessment.” He shook his head as he helped Jack spread the tarp over Deputy Reese’s bloody body. “The only saving grace that came out of today’s savage assault is that these men were dead before they hit the ground.”
I glanced through the trees at what was left of the cabin. It looked as though the firefighters had extinguished the fire, and only smoldering embers and wet, soggy logs remained. I whispered to Spelling that I’d check on the possibility of vehicles in the garage.
I walked away from the group and headed toward the fire trucks. “Excuse me, sir?”
The nearest firefighter turned around. I realized it was a woman when she removed her helmet. She smiled. “I get that a lot.”
I stuttered out the question mixed with an apology for my mistake. “I’m Agent Jade Monroe with the FBI. I realize the dwelling was fully engulfed in flames when your department arrived and there was nothing you could do but extinguish it, but do you have any idea if there are vehicles in the garage?”
“I’d venture to say that’s a negative, Agent Monroe, but we’ll check that out real soon. I’m pretty sure the entire county would have heard gas explosions if cars were in there.”
I nodded. “Good point. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Give us fifteen minutes. I’ll come and get you when we open up the place.”
“Good enough.” I stuck out my hand and shook hers. “Thanks for your service and bravery.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. Following in my pop’s footsteps.” She pointed over her shoulder. “That’s my old man right there. He’s the captain.”
I grinned with familiarity and felt her pride. I missed my own dad so much. “What’s your name?”
“Rosie Fredrick, ma’am.”
“We really appreciate everything you do, Rosie. I’ll be over there with my team when you’re ready to go in.”
“You bet. I’ll come and get you.”
The group of people had moved farther into the woods and stood near the second body. Two men from Forensics were snapping pictures of the bullets lodged in tree trunks and of the deceased deputy on the ground. We didn’t need to identify each victim. Their name tags told us who they were.
I stood next to Spelling. “The firefighter said they’d open up the garage in fifteen minutes. She seemed certain the garage would be empty since we didn’t hear any gas explosions.”
“She?”
“Yeah, my mistake. I called her sir. So it is likely there are three vehicle possibilities after all. The chances of them being out of the area by now are pretty high. Everyone in law enforcement is here helping out or—”
Spelling nodded. “Understood.”