Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“You need to go home.”
Greer looked to her left, arching her brow at Bodie as he stood there, arms crossed, the Army Ranger in him surrounding him like a tangible shield. Similar to what Chase and his buddies projected, and what she assumed intimidated most people.
She took a swig of overly strong coffee. “You do realize I spend most of my free time around Chase and his teammates, right? They’ve got that death vibe down to a fine art.”
Bodie shook his head, then walked over to the desk she’d braced her ass against. “You’re a real buzzkill, you know that?”
“It’s come up.” She nodded at her whiteboard. “And I’ll go home once I’ve stared at this board long enough that it starts to make sense.”
“Right. Because sleep deprivation always helps with clarity.”
“You know that old saying. You’re either part of the solution…”
Bodie chuckled. “Maybe you just need someone with fresh eyes. Looks like you got forensics back while I was out dealing with frat pledges, so lay it out for me.”
Greer sighed, then stood, walking over to the board. “Okay, we know…”
She trailed off as the door opened, Chase and the others walking through, a hint of wood smoke drifting along the breeze. They stopped just inside the threshold, scanning the room as if they’d thought they’d have to throw down. Maybe fight off a rogue band of tangos.
Greer arched a brow. “I didn’t wire the place if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Foster motioned to the room. “Actually, we’re looking for the S.W.A.T. team you had waiting to arrest us because the way Atticus phrased it, you were on the warpath, and we’re your targets.”
“Seriously?”
“You know how he gets.”
“First of all, you all have alibis. Chase was with me, and I know the rest of you were scarfing down pie at that new all-night café. Which is the real problem, because I doubt you’d planned on bringing us any. And second, I don’t need S.W.A.T. I just need Jordan.”
Bodie coughed. “Way to boost my ego there, Greer.”
Greer smiled. “Please, the woman could take us all down without breaking a sweat. Which reminds me, before you lose your shit, Kash, she’s out with Eli on patrol. Should be back shortly.”
Kash chuckled. “How angry was she when you insisted Eli babysit her?”
Greer scoffed. “She’s babysitting him. Eli doesn’t know this county well enough to go traipsing off on his own, yet, and I’d rather not lose anyone else. Which reminds me, I heard your last rescue had a better result.”
Foster headed for the coffee machine, pouring a cup before leaning against the wall. “We managed not to add to your caseload, so that’s a positive.”
“I appreciate that, and we can all use a win right now.”
Zain ambled over to the whiteboard. “Can’t help but notice there’s not as much empty space.”
Greer pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’d be more impressive if any of it gave me the answers.
As it is, I’ve gone through financial and medical records, cell logs — had Portland PD track down a couple possible leads — but there’s nothing in either of their backgrounds that points to a connection outside of Raven’s Lodge, and nothing in either of their files worth killing over. ”
Foster nodded. “What about Rhett’s military record?”
Greer snorted. “The three words per page that weren’t blacked out have been extremely insightful.”
“You did mention it was going to be redacted.”
“There’s redacted, and then there’s the DoD laughing in my face.”
Chase inched forward, meeting her gaze when she expected he’d skip over it — focus on the patch of air off her shoulder like he’d been doing the past couple days. “Was Pike able to confirm if Stacey had been dosed, too?”
She pursed her lips. She could lie. Hide behind her badge in order to save his sanity a bit, but it wouldn’t do either of them any good. Especially if there were more victims. “He just called.”
“Potassium chloride?”
She glanced at Foster, then back to Chase. “Not this time. Apparently, it was a massive insulin overdose.”
Chase’s expression fell, his shoulders rounding slightly as if she’d punched him in the stomach. “She was diabetic? She didn’t have a medical alert bracelet.”
“That’s because she wasn’t. Which suggests our perp injected her for the same purpose as he did Rhett. To make you think you had a chance at saving her.”
“Except where if I’d known, I could have countered it with glucose—”
“But that’s the point. You couldn’t have known, which also explains why he strangled her. It masked any symptoms you might have picked up on as part of the trauma. And Pike estimates she was too far gone by the time we arrived.”
She took a step forward — nearly reached for his hand — before catching herself. Drawing back when he looked as if he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. She took a breath, then stared each of the men in the eyes. “We need to have a candid talk.”
She stood her ground when the men all gave each other a look. One of those internal conversations she swore they all had with nothing more than an arched brow or a frown. “I’m concerned about the possible implications of some of the forensics.”
She grabbed a couple photos off the board and held them up. “I assume you knew Rhett still wore his dog tags.”
Chase nodded. “No way we were removing them until…” He swallowed, clenching his jaw before pushing out a rough breath. “Why?”
She handed him the first photo. “Someone inscribed a word on the back.”
Chase stared at the photo, sharing it with his buddies. “Abandoned. What the hell does that mean?”
“I was hoping you might know.”
Kash shook his head. “That word wasn’t on there the last time we saw him.”
“You’re sure?”
“We checked them every time…” Kash clenched his fists before Nyx nudged him, then sat on his feet. “It was our way of showing him we were still there. Still waiting.” He gave the dog a scratch. “I know that sounds crazy but—”
“It doesn’t.” She handed them the next image. “Then, I’ll assume you don’t know what mercy means, either? It was scratched on a similar dog tag found with Stacey.”
Zain leaned in close, brow furrowed, red creeping along his cheeks. “No idea. Strange she doesn’t have it around her neck in any of the other photos.”
“That’s because she wasn’t wearing it. Pike discovered it lodged inside her esophagus. She’d likely tried to swallow it just prior to being killed.”
Foster rolled his right shoulder. “As in, this asshole shoved it down her throat?”
Greer pursed her lips. “Considering she didn’t have any military ties, I doubt it was hers.
While it looks authentic, it’s blank on the other side.
And seeing as she was probably choking on it when he strangled her…
” She locked her gaze on Chase. “Pike said it was impressive you were able to establish an airway.”
Chase mumbled something under his breath, then focused on her. “Not that it did her any good.”
“She was dead the moment this guy took her. Nothing either of us did was going to change that.”
Chase looked away as he scrubbed a hand across his face before drawing himself up. Reinforcing all those walls he’d created over the past two days. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
She froze for a moment, the words sparking a wave of unwanted memories. How she’d stood in the war room, night vision cameras streaming on the monitors. The shouts. The explosions. The blood. All playing out in real time.
Zain sighed. “That’s a yes.”
Chase inched forward, squeezed her hand. One of the only times he’d initiated contact in the last thirty-six-hours — other than guarding her ass. “You mentioned you profiled extremist groups for the bureau. Were part of a number of JSOC units.”
Greer toed the floor. “Sadly, I’ve profiled groups who participate in these kinds of rituals.
Often as a way of weeding out anyone they deem impure or unworthy.
Modern versions of old witch trials, I suppose.
The fact our perp switched his MO — a different drug.
Strangulation instead of shooting.” She leaned against one of the desks. “It’s more than a bit concerning.”
Foster moved over to the whiteboard. “What about the numbers?”
The subject change eased some of her lingering memories.
Allowed her to shove down the rest. “Obviously, they could be almost anything. Part of an address, a phone number, old mission log or an ID. Bodie’s running algorithms to compile the most likely options.
One possibility does come to mind, though. ”
Zain looked at Foster, then Kash and Chase before crossing his arms. “Geographical coordinates.”
Greer hitched out her hip. “Did you just check with your buddies before offering that up?”
“Of course not.”
“That muscle in your left temple tenses when you lie. And yeah, that’s at the top of my list. No one goes to these extremes unless he wants us to figure it out. And with him using flash bangs, assault rifles and flares… This feels more field related.”
Foster tapped his chin. “You think this guy’s getting revenge for something that happened at this mystery location.”
“If we’re right about the numbers? It makes sense. His way of giving us his origin story.”
Zain walked over to the board and grabbed the marker.
“Forty-two and fifty-five. If we assume those are degrees, and you’re looking for an area where something covert could have happened that wouldn’t have made the evening news, there’re only a couple options that aren’t in the middle of an ocean.
One being Russia, though I’d assume further south, where the steppe meets the mountain fringes.
We’re talking sparse settlements, and jurisdictional complexity.
Easy to be off-grid yet reachable by small convoys.
Prime landscape for extremists groups or abduction scenarios. ”
Foster nodded. “Could be the Russia–Caucasus corridor — thin on population, thick on deniability. Though, the other option is what… Kazakhstan?”