“That you’re going to be less happy about. Rocky met the nurse in the hospital parking lot and they chatted in her car.”
“And you were where?”
“Two rows over. I had to get that close for my mike to pick them up. Turns out your nurse hasn’t done the deed. She had your assistant pretty rattled.”
Bobby’s jaw tightened. “I thought as much. Where is Rocky now?”
“Driving north on I-85. I’m trailing about a half mile behind.”
“Why?”
“That I don’t know because she didn’t say.”
“Did Rocky at least get a description of the girl?”
“All the nurse knew was that her name started with M.”
Fuck. Monica. “I see. So the girl is awake and talking?”
“No. The nurse made it so the girl is paralyzed, gave her something in her IV. She can’t open her eyes, move, or speak.”
Bobby breathed an easier breath. “So at least the nurse isn’t a total failure.”
“Rocky told the nurse to give the girl one more dose, which would keep her paralyzed until about two this afternoon. She said she’d be back with more instructions, then let the nurse out. Rocky waited, then followed a car to one of the local hotels. A woman went into the hotel, the car kept going. Rocky started driving north.”
“What did the woman look like?”
“A doctor. She got out of the car wearing scrubs and carrying a computer bag in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. I can keep following Rocky. Your call.”
“I’ve got her car wired. Just use the GPS. I have other things for you to do tonight.”
“Can’t. Rocky must’ve ditched the transmitter because I’m not picking her up.”
Bobby sighed. “I’ve always known she was bright. I’ll just have to have Tanner hide the transmitter better next time. Follow her. I want to know every move she makes.”
“It’s your dime. Oh, one more thing. Rocky was very interested when the nurse said the woman who found the girl was Susannah Vartanian. She saved the girl’s life.”
Bobby tensed. “What did the doctor look like, the one that went into the hotel?”
“Thirty. Dark hair in a ponytail. Maybe five-three. Real pretty,” he added slyly.
Susannah. “How nice. Call me when Rocky gets to where she’s going.”
Bobby hung up and stared at the photo of Susannah that Charles had left, wondering if he’d known about Susannah finding the girl, then rejected the notion. Charles would have been here, playing chess when the girl escaped. Charles knew a lot, but even he didn’t know everything. Damn the old man, playing with my mind. Susannah Vartanian. The woman had been a festering thorn for years, simply by breathing. Today she’d done a hell of a lot more than breathe. Because of Susannah, the girl had survived. The girl could bring them all down.
For now the girl was neutralized. The nurse would need to be brought into line, that was a given. But Susannah had crossed the line. It was way past time to pull out the thorn. Way past time for Susannah to stop breathing.
But first, Bobby would deal with Rocky. It would not be pretty. Father always told me it was a mistake to go into business with family. I really should have listened.
Chapter Eight
Ellijay, North Georgia, Saturday, February 3, 2:15 a.m.
Luke, wake up. We’re here.”
Luke blinked his eyes open. Special Agent Talia Scott was slowing the car to a stop at the edge of a tree-lined dirt road, which according to their map should lead to Judge Walter Borenson’s cabin. “I wasn’t asleep,” he said. “I was just resting my eyes.”
“Then you are the loudest eye-rester I’ve ever heard. Your snores could wake the damn dead, Papa. No wonder you can’t keep a girlfriend. So wake up.”
“Maybe I did sleep a little.” That he had was testament to just how much he trusted Talia. They’d been friends for a long time. He glanced in his rearview. Chase was behind them, and two vans brought up the rear.
One van was filled with the SWAT team Chase had assembled, the other held a crime lab team from the local GBI field office. “We got a signed warrant?” Luke asked.
“Yeah,” Talia said. “Chloe grumbled about some early morning meeting and needing her beauty sleep, but she came through.”
Chloe’s morning meeting was with Susannah, Luke knew. He’d almost told Talia about Susannah’s statement before he’d fallen asleep. Talia had been interviewing the surviving victims of Simon and Granville’s rape club for the past two days. At some point she’d know that Susannah had been a victim, too. But he’d held his tongue. Susannah deserved her privacy until she formally signed that statement.
“Chloe usually does come through,” he said and got out of the car. “If Granville’s partner is here, he’s boxed himself in. There isn’t any way out, except this road.”
Talia shined her flashlight across the dirt. “The ground’s too hard to show any tire tracks if a vehicle did come through.” She sniffed the air. “No fire in any woodstove.”
Chase came close, tightening the straps on his Kevlar vest, two pairs of night goggles and two earpieces in his hand. “For you two. Let’s approach through the trees. I’ll go left. Talia, you go right, and Luke, you come around and cover the back. If they are in there, I do not want them to see us coming.”
Luke thought of the bunker, the vacant eyes, the bullet holes centered on their foreheads. No, he didn’t want to give the bastards any advance notice. “Let’s go.”
They organized, splitting the SWAT team into three groups, and set out, creeping through the trees. As they grew closer to the cabin, Luke could tell no one was there. The place was dark and had the feel of abandonment. No one had been here in days.
Luke came out of the trees on one side of the road as Chase emerged on the other. Silently, Chase pointed around to the back of the house and Luke followed the order. All was quiet until he got about five feet from the house, then he heard a low growl.
A bulldog struggled to stand, a low growl coming from its throat. The dog limped to the edge of the back porch, its teeth bared.
“We’re in position,” Chase’s voice murmured in his ear.
Luke carefully approached. “Easy, boy,” he said softly. The dog began to back up step by step, teeth still bared, but made no move to strike. “We’re ready, Chase.”
“Then move.”
Luke knocked the back door in, then gagged at the stench. “Oh my God.”
“GBI, freeze,” Chase ordered from the front door, but the cabin was empty.
Luke hit a light switch and immediately saw the source of the odor. Three fish lay on the kitchen counter, rotting. One looked like it had been in the process of being deboned. A long, thin filleting knife lay on the floor, covered in dried blood.
“Bedroom’s clear,” Talia called.
Chase looked at the fish, his mouth twisted in a grimace. “At least it’s not Borenson.”
“Looks like he got interrupted,” Luke said. “Somebody was looking for something.”
Drawers in the living room had been yanked, contents strewn. The sofa had been slashed, stuffing everywhere. Books had been pulled from the shelves. Pictures had been pulled from the walls, the glass shattered in the frames.
“Hey, Papa,” Talia called from the bedroom. “Come here.”
Luke winced. Blood covered the bed, soaking the linens. “That had to have hurt.”
Again, drawers were pulled, contents strewn. A framed photo lay in a pile of broken glass on the floor next to the bed. It was an old man holding a fly-fishing rod, standing next to a dog. “It’s the bulldog from outside,” Luke said, “and the old guy is Borenson.”
“Talia, stay with the crime lab,” Chase said. “We’ll fan out and see if Borenson’s been dumped anywhere around the cabin, then we’ll talk to the folks in town, see if anyone saw anything. The girls are not here, nor do they appear to have been here. We’re not back to square one, though. Somebody didn’t want Borenson to talk.”