She followed Kinkaid’s gaze across the compound as they looked for a way out. Pérez’s helicopter was nothing more than a fireball, completely blown apart. If Guerrero had escaped with the drug-cartel leader, they hadn’t flown out. The UAV drone had taken care of that. And Pérez wouldn’t get far bleeding the way he was. They had to have wheels to get to Guadalajara and the nearest doctor.
“How else would Guerrero make his escape?” she asked Estella. “Do you know where they kept their vehicles?”
“Ramon had a van and another car. Over there.” The girl pointed to an outbuilding that looked intact.
By the time Alexa got there, she found more blood and knew they were on the right track in trailing Pérez. She saw the building had been used as a garage, but the vehicles were missing. Without a car, they’d be on foot, with the Mexican police having every advantage.
Their odds of getting away clean sucked.
“Damn it. I can’t catch a break. We could sure use some good luck about now.”
“Will I do?” A man’s voice came from behind them.
Alexa spun and aimed her weapon at the silhouette of a guy bracing an assault rifle on his hip. He wasn’t threatening them with his weapon. His body eclipsed the sunrise behind him, making it hard to see his face until he leaned against the open garage door. Alexa hadn’t heard him walk up on them, and Kinkaid hadn’t either.
She only knew one man who could do that.
“Garrett? I thought you left.”
Garrett Wheeler’s face lit up with a grin that put the sunrise to shame. Alexa hadn’t seen him smile like that for a very long time, but she knew exactly how he felt.
“And miss a good ass kicking? Never,” he said as he walked up to them with his usual swagger. “But I did send the team home.”
“In case you haven’t taken a head count lately, if there’s an ass kicking, it’s gonna be ours,” she said. “And Kinkaid has a jump on us in that department.”
“Everyone’s a critic.” Jackson gave her a sideways glare that softened into a smile.
Alexa knew they were in plenty of trouble, with more on the way, but she couldn’t help it. Having Garrett and Jackson with her, alive and well, made her feel damned lucky. And being on the right side of the dirt was always a good thing.
“Then we better get a head start. I’ve got a car and a GPS signal to follow.” Garrett’s expression became more somber as he turned to leave. “Come on. We’ve got ground to cover.”
Chapter 16
La Pointe, Wisconsin
Morning
“You want me to do what?” Seth asked. His sleepy voice told her that he was still in bed. “Sorry, I’m not awake yet. Worked late last night.”
“Your assignment with Tanya?”
“Yeah.”
Jessie was already working on her third cup of motel-room coffee. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she’d been up for hours looking through the local phone directory, trying to locate the witness names she’d remembered from Chief Cook’s murder book.
She heard Seth yawn, but he didn’t say anything more about what he was working on for his direct-report boss at the Sentinels. And she knew better than to press him for details. They both would have secrets when it came to their mutual employer.
“What’s this about my dad’s old case file?” he asked.
Jessie knew Seth had kept a copy of his father’s biggest case with the Chicago Police Department. Harper’s dad, Max, had rescued her and the other kids that Danny Ray Millstone had kidnapped and tortured at his sprawling old Chicago home.
“You still have it, right?”
“Well, yeah. Sure. What’s this about, Jessie?”
Seth’s father had killed Millstone. He shot the man dead in front of her when the bastard had come to kill her. She was only a kid at the time, but she never forgot what it felt like to be carried out of that hellhole—from the darkness into the light—by a man she always had remembered as a hero. But the price Max had paid, when he became obsessed with the serial pedophile, had been the estrangement of his son, Seth. And that case had cost Max his marriage, too.
“I need to know if there were any boys held at Millstone’s house?” She cleared her throat, having a hard time talking about her ordeal again. “And I guess that would include the bodies the police found buried on his property.”
Harper had dealt with his rift from his dad by taking Max’s casebook and had attempted to make contact with every survivor of Millstone’s. Seth had needed to see with his own eyes that his father’s obsession had been worth the sacrifice his family had made. At least, that was what Harper had thought when he first started his own fixation. Jessie had a suspicion that he saw things differently now, and that difference had brought him closer to his father, but if anyone knew about the victims of Danny Ray Millstone—then and now—it was Seth Harper.
“Wait a minute, Jess. Take pity on me. I haven’t had my coffee yet. You better start from the beginning.”
Jessie told him about Chief Cook’s misleading her with his lie of omission, that there had been two DNA samples found at the old DeSalvo crime scene. Cook had gotten a hit on her DNA and made contact through the Chicago PD, a call fielded by her friend, Sam Cooper. Once she’d gotten Harper up to speed, she got around to telling him what she’d been thinking and asking her favor.
“So you think Millstone was your . . . father? Oh, Jessie. I’m so sorry you’re going through this alone. I can drive and be there in nine hours. Just let me find a place for Floyd.”
“No, Seth. Thanks for the offer, but I need you to help me another way. And no one can do this but you.”
“I’d do anything for you, Jess. What do you need?”
She heard sympathy and commiseration in his voice. The old Jessie would have heard only pity and resented him for it. She would have sabotaged any relationship they had and dealt with her pain by pushing him away, but it felt good to have someone to talk to about the worst days of her life. Harper was her sounding board, a guy she could trust with her worst suspicions.
“Look into Millstone’s list of victims. I need every boy’s name—alive or dead—and their ages when they were found. And it would be great to have photos of the boys. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah, will do. I only remember girls’ names, but I could be wrong. And I haven’t looked at the names of the dead kids in a while. I was more after the ones still breathing, but there could’ve been boys on that list. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Thanks. That’ll help.”
Once she narrowed down the kids’ ages, she could show the photo of any boy who matched the description the witnesses in La Pointe had reported. From what she remembered of Cook’s interview records, the witnesses were consistent in reporting a boy and a girl. And the descriptions had been similar enough to sound like the same kids had been seen by more than one witness.
“And what have you got Sam looking into?” he asked.
“Sam’s checking out the evidence archives, trying to find any record of Millstone’s DNA that might have been missed when they digitized the old cases. If we can connect that second DNA sample to Millstone as a direct match, then we can link him to the murder and ID who killed Angela DeSalvo.”
“Wait a minute,” Harper interrupted. “Didn’t Chief Cook tell you he’d looked into the Millstone case? Millstone would’ve been a likely candidate for the La Pointe murder. Cook would’ve connected the dots to him if he could. And as a cop, he would’ve had access to the same information that Sam is looking for. Don’t you think he would have noticed if Millstone’s DNA matched anything he’d found at the DeSalvo crime scene? I mean, he’d say something to you, right?”