Chapter 36
“Gassing?” Ivy was still reeling from a cop threatening to shoot them.
Vaughn squirmed—he clearly hadn’t meant to say so much.
“Yeah. The body you saw . . .” he trailed off.
Ivy had heard enough.
Gassing, as ambiguous as the term was, explained the white paste she’d seen on Aaron Treadman’s face.
She shuddered.
“And there’s been another one? Here?”
“Yes. I just got the call. That’s why I came.”
“Ryan, why’d you let the other two go?” Delany demanded.
Vaughn whipped around. Glared at the cop.
“What the hell were you thinking, Delaney? Drawing on three unarmed civilians?”
“I saw a man running! How was I supposed to know—”
“It wasn’t my father,” Ivy interrupted, trying to restore calm. “He doesn’t run. And he doesn’t understand.”
“I’m sorry—who the hell are you?”
Ivy noticed Vaughn tense a little, even moved in front of her.
“This is Dr. Ivy Reeves. She’s helping us with the case.”
Delaney looked confused.
“This case?”
“The other case,” Vaughn snapped.
Now Delaney was taken aback.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, I didn’t know.” Delaney did his best to backpedal. “You didn’t say anything, and I saw—”
“Someone running, yeah, I got that. Tell me what happened.”
“Like I said on the phone, I was close when the 911 call came in and rushed to the address. Passed someone on the way. Officer Horowitz arrived around the same time as me. We used a crowbar to open the door and found the body. Already dead. I came back out, started searching for the person I saw. Noticed someone running.” Delaney pointed at Ivy. “That’s when I found your father.”
When Vaughn laid eyes on her, Ivy shook her head.
“It wasn’t him,” Vaughn said. “Whoever you saw might still be out here. Get on the radio, set up a search. Now.”
During this conversation, Sarah and Ivy’s father had started back toward the DAL. Ivy could just make out their silhouettes.
As Delaney said something into his radio, Vaughn moved closer to her.
“You going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” she lied. Everything about this ordeal had fried her nerves. Hell, everything about the last two days had put her on edge.
“You should probably go with them,” he suggested.
Ivy considered this.
With all the yelling and police lights, it would be a miracle if others at the DAL failed to notice. If she moved quickly—difficult, but not impossible—Sarah might be able to pass off her father’s absence as being related to the commotion.
The man was confused, heard shouting and saw the lights. Went out to investigate, like a moth to a lightbulb. But if Ivy showed up, that would raise questions. Questions she couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to answer. Not in this frazzled state, anyway.
“It’s better if I don’t,” Ivy said in a tone that she hoped expressed her unwillingness to explain.
Vaughn got it.
“I have to process the crime scene. I can take you home afterward, but it might take a while.”
“I’m parked back at the home.”
Vaughn looked over her shoulder. Squinted.
“Search party ordered,” Delaney said. “We’ll have this entire place lit up in under an hour.”
“Good. Delaney, you think you can walk Ivy back to her car? She shouldn’t be alone if there’s someone still out there.”
Delaney seemed less than enthused about this prospect. Ivy didn’t know much about PPD hierarchy, but figured that detective was above officer. Doubted someone in plainsclothes—the same clothes she’d seen Vaughn in earlier in the day, minus the jacket—took orders from a man in uniform.
Made sense.
“Where’s your car?” Delaney said. He sounded almost petulant.
“At the home. But wait. Is this another prisoners problem?”
“A what?” Delaney asked.
“It’s the name of the game at the other crime scene,” Vaughn clarified. “We think that the numbers and boxes were all part of a complex math game.”
Delaney made a face. Ivy might have, too. She wouldn’t have classified the 100 prisoners problem as a “math game.” Still, Vaughn was trying his best.
“Oh. Well, no, this is different than the other. To be honest, I don’t know what the hell was going on in there, didn’t spend too long inside the barn. As soon as I confirmed the vic was DOA, I rushed back out.”
“You see anything in the barn?”
“Sure. A couple of buttons—green, red—some fucking display screens. I don’t know. Just checked the guy’s pulse and then headed out.”
“Buttons?” Vaughn queried.
“Yeah—buttons. There were two rooms, each had a red and a green button on a table.”
This triggered something in Ivy.
“And the screens, did they show red and green dots?” she asked.
Delaney looked at her, eyebrows rising up his forehead.
“Yeah,” he said hesitantly.
“You recognize it?” Vaughn said to Ivy.
“I might. Not sure.”
Vaughn scratched his head, appeared torn.
“If she helped with the other scene, it might be worth having her look at this one, too.” Ivy got the impression this was more about Delaney keeping in the loop than believing that she could help. “It smelled like eggs. Vic looked the same, too. Eyes cloudy, foam—”
“Got it,” Vaughn said quickly, clearly to protect her. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“It’s fine. If I can help . . .”
“Seeing a photo is different than seeing the real thing.” Vaughn chewed his lower lip. “But you might be right. Delaney, you have something in your car you can put over the body?”
“I’ve got a tarp.”
“Okay, snap some photos and cover it.”
“Gotcha.”
Delaney scampered off. Vaughn waited a moment before indicating for Ivy to join him up the small grassy embankment toward the barn.
She started to feel pressure in her chest when she saw a cop wearing a gas mask.
Vaughn quickly introduced her. He referred to Ivy as Dr. Reeves, a consultant on the case.
“You have any more of those?” Vaughn said, indicating Officer Horowitz’s mask.
“Delaney said it’s okay now, used this handheld thingy to check the air. It’s just in case.”
“You have any more?” Vaughn repeated.
“In the car.”
“Grab them.”
Delaney exited the barn around the same time that Horowitz returned with masks.
“Let me help you with that.” Vaughn took one of the masks and slipped it over Ivy’s head. Tightened the straps. “Should stop fogging in a few seconds.”
Vaughn put his own mask on and said, “Ready?”
Ivy felt her pulse pounding in her throat.
No, not really.
“Yeah,” she lied. “Ready.”