Chapter 7 #2
He pulled the screen door open and jumped inside with his gun leading, before Shana ever thought of leading. It paid to be quick. The door squeaked and slammed with the bang that under normal circumstances he would have found comforting.
Now they’d announced their arrival to anyone who might still be inside.
But a quick survey of the kitchen told him he probably didn’t need to worry about his uninvited guest still being there.
Decorating the white refrigerator like a billboard were words written in red that he’d bet his bottle of tequila was lipstick. The crazy-man-style large print read “Stopped by. Sorry you’re not home. Next time.”
“Geez. That man’s a crazy bastard.” Shana blew out a breath.
He motioned for her to stay quiet and moved slowly through the house to clear it. He took the surveillance detection device out of the box where it was in the locked drawer of his desk. The intruder hadn’t bothered to break it open.
That was why Dane had a metal desk and not a wood one. He went room to room.
Shana did the same, heading for her room, the room where his mother was staying.
He found nothing amiss. Nothing out of place or touched in his office or his bedroom or the other rooms. No listening devices.
“I’m checking the basement.” He hoped to hell they hadn’t got to his stash of weapons. They were well hidden and locked, but he never knew with Dag.
“I’m still checking my room.”
The fact that her words, even in this situation where he was focused on a life-and-death task, had the power to tighten his chest, made him stop in his tracks.
Because deep down he wanted her room to be his room.
Whatever his deep-down issues were, he shoved them aside with a sledgehammer effort and proceeded down the basement stairs.
It took him less than two minutes, with his flashlight and surveillance detector, to clear the space and determine that Dag and his men hadn’t bothered coming down there. He ran back up the stairs.
Then he went to Shana’s room where she was still checking things out. But he stopped on the threshold.
She stood staring into her dresser drawer, her face white as snow, her normally lush lips flattened impossibly to a thin line.
Dane stepped into the small room and stood next to her, touching his hip and shoulder to hers, and looked into the drawer, but didn’t see the problem.
“What is it?”
“I’m trying to figure out what he took. I know they went in the drawer. My marker was disturbed and someone went to the trouble of putting things back in place. But something is missing and I think I know what it is.”
“What did he take?” Dane’s voice sounded conversational but his heart beat hard and fast as his chest tightened in on it as if to keep it in place.
“A pair of panties. My white panties.”
He wrapped her in his arms then. She was stiff and unyielding but that hardly mattered. He needed to console her whether she thought she needed it or not. He needed it. He needed to do something about Dag. Something about his mother. To hell with the ATF and their plans.
“Damn,” she said. He barely heard her. She turned to him and softened but looked at him serious with a wrinkle across her forehead, a look he almost never saw.
“Dag is disturbingly professional and thorough. And sick.”
“I know.”
He swept her from the room and shut the door. He pulled her with him to the office which was now in a shamble, with cots and duffels strewn around to create an obstacle course, but he navigated it in three well-placed steps and reached for his secure line.
“Cap. Come on over right away. Bring a medic. Your officer is down but it looks like a tranquilizer. The house is clear.”
Cap said two words. “On it.” And the call ended.
The sirens signaled the arrival of an ambulance, but Cap’s official car pulled up to an abrupt stop before the medics got there. Cap strode toward his man.
Shielded by his arms folded across his chest and armed with his Glock in a visible holster on his hip instead of its usual spot under his shirt, Dane stood waiting for him at Zeke’s car.
Dane had placed a cold compress on Zeke’s forehead as instructed by his mother. She’d called. She said she knew something was wrong.
“You forgot to close your door,” Dane said to Cap.
“You okay?” Cap leaned in the open door of the officer’s car. Zeke was semi-conscious and not feeling very peachy.
Zeke mumbled.
“Shit. He looks green.” Cap straightened and faced Dane. “What else happened that you’re not telling me?”
“Come in and see for yourself.”
The ambulance had pulled alongside the car, blocking the street, and two medics rushed in their direction. The island was small and odds were that they knew Zeke. Hell, they could be neighbors or cousins.
Dane answered a few questions and then he went inside with Cap as the EMTs put Zeke on a stretcher and rolled him into the back of the ambulance.
“Wilton and Simpson are hot on my heels,” Cap said as he stepped inside the shack’s back door. “I want to look it over before they get here.”
Dane showed him around with Shana adding her piece about the missing item.
“What do you suppose he’s doing?”
“I think he’s going to send the panties back in some form another.”
“He has a sense of high drama?”
“No. For him it’s about torturing.”
Shana led them back to the kitchen and scowled at them with her hands on her hips, her chin lifted and shoulders pushed back as if she had a giant S on her chest. She may as well have. Her attitude shouted her claim to Superwoman status.
“He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with then, does he?”
“Not by a long shot. He’s more used to rough women of questionable character, few brains, and not much in the way of confidence.” Dane’s chest tightened with the knowledge that Dag now knew all about Shana, had seen her picture and explored her underwear drawer.
“We’re not telling ATF about the stolen panties.”
“Fine. We don’t have to. But why not?” Cap said.
“I don’t want them dragging Shana into this. They already tried it once.”
“I’m standing right here. And I’d say I’m already in it since Dag has my undies.” Her green eyes flashed with indignance
“Save it for the enemy.”
Dane looked from Cap to Shana. The trio stood in a tight circle in his small kitchen.
Cap said, “Interesting theory.”
The back door banged open a second after Dane noticed Wilton approaching the door.
“What’s the interesting theory?” He stopped, barely leaving room for Simpson to enter behind him.
“What the hell happened here?”
“Did you think I was kidding when I said Dag came for a visit and trashed the place?”