Chapter 34
Noelle trudged through the deepening snow toward Hammaker’s house, thankful the flakes had taken a brief break.
Ten minutes ago the county SWAT team had sneaked onto the Hammaker property in the dark and silently cleared the house and barn.
Noelle had watched from the Deschutes County sheriff’s command center in a nearby RV.
Monitors showed eight different views of falling snow and trees as the SWAT team worked their way from a wide perimeter to the farm.
Simultaneously the home’s front door was breached with a small battering ram as other team members slid aside the big barn door.
No one was in either the house or barn.
Knowing Hammaker was an explosives expert, the SWAT team had worried about booby traps and had checked thoroughly before breaching the doors. Noelle was thankful none had been found.
What if Max and I had triggered one when we entered the barn last night?
Noelle wiped sweat off her forehead, aware they could have died. She wasn’t accustomed to checking for explosives before entering a property, and the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind.
Meanwhile, three hundred yards away, the FBI’s SWAT team out of Portland had established a perimeter around the two bunkers. They were waiting in the dark, their night vision locked on the bunkers and surrounding area to see if the raid on Hammaker’s home would drive him out.
Noelle knew the FBI would silently wait one hour before breaching the bunkers, hoping he’d come out. They preferred to take him outside the units instead of going inside, where they had no idea of who or what they would encounter.
During the wait, Noelle was to search Tommy’s home and barn, looking for anything that would help the FBI know what to expect in the bunkers. She carefully stepped up the snow-covered porch stairs and winced at the sight of the broken front door.
We had no choice.
“Detective.” One of the entry team, bulky in his heavy SWAT gear, greeted her with a nod. His night vision equipment was flipped up on his helmet, his weapon still at the ready. His team had turned on every light in the house.
“Anything I should know?” Noelle asked.
“Well-hidden cameras.” He pointed at a corner of the porch overhang. “Two more inside and another covering the back.” He gave a cheerful wave and grin at the porch one.
Noelle glanced up, and it took her several seconds to spot the camera. Not surprised she and Max hadn’t noticed it the day before, she wondered if they were being viewed that very second from inside the bunkers. “What did you find inside?”
“Follow me.”
In the home she heard more team members’ voices down a hall.
The man leading her pointed out the other two indoor cameras, one in the kitchen and one covering the living area.
She put on gloves and yanked open a few drawers in the kitchen, finding the usual kitchen junk.
She followed him down the hall, passing a bathroom with open cabinet doors and an olive-green shower curtain pushed to one side.
In the largest bedroom—which wasn’t very large—two SWAT members stood in front of a large gun safe in the corner. “Locked?” she asked.
“Yes,” said the man she recognized as a lieutenant. “But if this guy is as active—or was as active—in the gun community as you believe, there should be several more safes. This one doesn’t hold much.”
“Could mean that he keeps them in one of the bunkers,” said Noelle, checking the time. She poked around in Hammaker’s closet a bit. His clothing gave off scents of horse and engine oil as she pushed items aside.
“Detective? You need to take a look at these.”
His tone made her stomach clench, and she turned to see the lieutenant scowling at several pieces of printer paper he was shuffling through his hands. “What is it?”
He handed them to her. They were several poor-quality photos of Keira. Exactly like the ones Max had received, but there were more. Several photos were of Max. Outside his home, getting in his vehicle at work, and punching in the code at Noelle’s gate.
He followed Max to my home.
But there were also photocopies of old newspaper articles that covered Jacob McHale’s shooting. An official police department photo of a much younger Max accompanied two of the articles.
More confirmation that Hammaker is still bitter about the shooting.
“They were on top of the safe,” said the lieutenant. “Why does he have photos of Agent Rhodes?”
“It’s a long story. But we were aware of this.”
The lieutenant frowned, his gaze questioning hers. But he didn’t press further.
“Is there a computer?” Noelle asked. She hung on to the papers.
“Other room.”
She followed the lieutenant back down the hall into a very small bedroom with a twin bed and a desk with an ancient computer on top. The keyboard had a thick layer of dust. “Doubtful he monitors his cameras from here.”
“Probably on his phone,” said one of the team.
Noelle looked in the open closet and caught her breath. All the clothing she’d given Emma was neatly hung up and arranged by color. Noelle ran a hand over the clothes. Every button was buttoned and every zipper zipped. “She felt safe here,” Noelle said too quietly for anyone to hear.
How long was she planning to stay?
“This is green team leader,” said one of the men. He listened to his earpiece for a moment. “Copy.” He looked at Noelle. “There’s been no activity at the bunkers.”
I still have time before they start.
She wanted to be back in the sheriff’s command center to watch the FBI’s feeds from its SWAT team when the team breached the bunkers.
“I’d like to see the barn,” she told him.
Noelle followed the lieutenant out of the little house and across the yard, tucking the photos and articles about Max in her coat.
The snow had picked up again and looked like a blizzard as it blew across the bright light above the barn door.
She shivered in her heavy coat, on edge after looking at the papers.
Proof of Hammaker’s anger.
“There’s a camera built into that light fixture,” said the lieutenant, pointing at the motion sensor light.
“And another inside that must pick up the entire length of the aisle.” He slid the door open, and they entered.
“We didn’t find anything else of interest in here. No weapons. No locked storage.”
The horse nickered in her direction. Noelle strode down the aisle, scanning to her right and left. It appeared nothing had changed since she and Max had been there that morning. “Remember me?” she said softly to the horse as she stroked his cheek.
“Detective, you should get going,” said the lieutenant. “They’re counting down.”
It’s almost time.
“Thank you.” Noelle patted the horse and made a mental note to have the county check on him tomorrow.
Regardless of what happened tonight, his living situation was going to change.
She went out of the barn and tightened her collar as she pushed through the snowfall, which blew sideways with the wind.
She’d know soon if Emma was in the bunker with Hammaker. Noelle didn’t know where else to look for the teenager.
Emma’s uncle Tommy wasn’t who the teen had thought he was.
Please be safe.