Angela walked along the brittle red bricks that had once served as a sidewalk. She stepped carefully over the obstacle course of jagged edges and broken chunks. The last thing she needed was an injury.
“Detective Petersen,” Dyllon yelled from behind her.
She turned as the captain jogged up to her. Of course, grinning.
“What can I do for you, Captain?”
“Dyllon.”
“Fine.” She sighed. “Dyllon.”
The captain’s smile widened, and Angela felt elated while her stomach cringed at the same time. “Good news. We have a lead.”
“Where?”
“Over there. The dogs picked up her scent.” He turned and pointed toward an old store.
To Angela’s horror, members of the team, all just ill-prepared area police with their green uniforms, were entering the building, carrying equipment, stomping all over the evidence. “What are they doing?”
Dyllon’s brow bunched, as if confused by her question. “Their jobs.”
Finally, the break she’d been waiting for, and his people were in there contaminating the site. She couldn’t believe the stupidity. “Why would you have them go in there before informing me?”
The captain opened his mouth to say something. Frustrated, Angela didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Just never mind,” she said, shoving past him.
Angela ignored his grunt of protest as she rushed down the street to intercept his people. But even with thoughts of the evidence being contaminated, the detective could barely suppress the grin tugging at her lips.
Stupid of the girl to seek cover during a storm. If she could’ve endured, the rain would have washed away her trail, washed away any chance of Angela finding her. Seems the vision of perfection was more flawed than Dr. Hirch believed.
She entered the rundown store with Dyllon on her heels. Thick dust coated everything from the ceiling to the floors. Small dunes formed against the back walls. Between the cracks of the floorboards, seeds had randomly taken root and grown into greenery. Empty shelves, which at one time had lined the walls, decorated the floors now, and an old counter with the glass broken out still held an antique cash register. Must and the underlying pungent scent of ammonia floated in the air and assaulted her senses.
Angela wrinkled her nose.
“Years of animal inhabitants and mold,” Ranger Davis, area expert on what had been formerly known as Henry County, said. He stood against the wall next to the old counter; his long beak-like nose pointed into the air, resembling the snouts of the two German Shepherds sitting next to him. The dogs looked back and forth between the newcomers, their tails beating a tempo against the floor; their long black-spotted tongues lolled out, panting.
Two females and a male from the search party formed a half circle next to a mound of old rags. They looked up as the captain and detective approached.
“Careful where you step,” said a woman, as if Angela was some rookie. Her hair curled like springs and bounced when she knelt down. “Look. There.” Her finger swept across the area. “And there.”
Angela’s eyes followed from the large spot of coagulated dark crimson next to the rotting rags to an area where shoe prints littered the dust.
“And over there.” Curly-head walked over to the crumpled shelves and knelt next to them. “This is recent.” She handed one of the splintered shelves to Angela. Dust streaked across the long planks. Red dots were sprinkled along the grain.
“It seems there was some sort of scuffle.”
“Plus, someone fired a shot,” said the man. His voice was deep, like a trombone.
A large hole left jagged splinters in the wood above a mound of molded tarps. After Angela traced the edges with her fingers, she brought it to her nose. Gunpowder.
“Do you think she was shot?” the other woman asked. Her hair was straight as a pin, and thin. The pink of her scalp showed through the yellowish-blond.
The detective shook her head. “No, there isn’t any splatter.”
“She was taken,” said Dyllon.
“Seems that way,” Angela said while pushing the rags with the tip of her boot.
“Renegades?”
“Who else?”
Ranger Davis shook his head. “There hasn’t been any activity here for years. Even before I took over.”
Angela looked sideways at him. “That doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”
“I’m very thorough at my job.”
“I have no doubt.” She turned to Dyllon. “I want an up-to-date map of this area. Satellite, if possible.”
“No problem.”
“I have all the information back at my office,” Davis said, his voice carrying a hint of indignant annoyance.
“Great. That saves me time,” said Dyllon.
“There has been no activity here. I conduct random patrols and investigate the area thoroughly.”
Angela whipped around to face him, hands planted firmly on her hips. “There is activity here. Can you deny the proof?” She waved her hand. “It’s everywhere.”
Apparently, the expert had nothing more to say. He tightened his hold on the dogs’ leashes and stormed out of the store. The way the floor groaned, Angela halfway expected the man to fall through in his tantrum. Once outside, Davis unleashed his companions. The dogs bounded happily out of view.
“I think you made him angry,” Dyllon pointed out.
“Proof is proof. There is a nest of them, somewhere.” She turned toward the woman with the springy hair. “Do a blood analysis against the sample on the shelves and the one on the floor. Also, find the shell casing.”
She cast Dyllon a glance and nodded toward the door. He followed her onto the road. Out of earshot from the others and the disgruntled expert, she turned toward him. “Don’t let the ranger out of your sight.”
“I’ve known Davis for years. I completely trust him.”
Angela’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t.”
Dr. Hirch answered on the first ring. “Hallo.” The more he listened to Detective Petersen’s report, the angrier he got. Retrieving his missing daughter was not going as he’d expected. Worse, the incompetent people he, himself, had put in charge were delaying his experiments. “Let me know of any further development.”
He flipped the phone shut and tossed a pile of folders displaying the names of his creations on his desk.
Leland peeked over the monitor, his eyes glimmering with curiosity. “Well?”
Needing to calm himself, George waited a moment before he answered, “It seems Ellyssa has found friends.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone has found her.”
“Has she been harmed?”
A tic found residence in George’s jaw. He fought to maintain control. “They do not know.”
“What do they know?”
The doctor felt the last of his patience dwindling away. “There was some sort of altercation.”
Leland leaned back in the computer chair, resting his arms behind his head. His fingers disappeared into his thick locks. “Renegades?”
The doctor nodded.
“Maybe she got away.”
“Detective Petersen does not think so.” Thoughtful, George’s brow knitted together as he pulled Aalexis’ file over to him.
He opened the folder to the blank-face stare of his youngest. What was going on with them? First, one escaped and now another was growing defiant. He needed to finish his work before anything else went wrong.
“I have something to show you.” Leland’s voice broke into George’s thoughts.
Still holding Aalexis’ file, the doctor stalked to Leland’s computer. “This had better be good.”