Chapter Twenty-Nine
Creed
Honey had shown up just as Auralia circled behind the boulder.
Together, they were assessing the situation when Creed’s phone pinged with Rue’s collar connecting. Auralia.
When Auralia took off, it had been a pragmatic decision, and, in theory, the plan had made sense.
In his gut, Creed knew it was the wrong way to go about things. His instincts told him that there were unforeseen dangers. But what could he say out loud?
Auralia was correct. Something was terribly wrong with Brandy, whether she was in shock, bleeding internally, or any of a list of things that could be going wrong for her. Whatever it was, Brandy could easily and quickly die under these circumstances.
Sheelah, yeah, Creed thought Sheelah was fading. He expected death rattle breathing soon, or a sudden miraculous coming around, a last look around before walking toward the light.
Auralia wasn’t hurt, other than being red-faced from the abrasive fabric of the airbag.
She was as capable as he was in this environment. She was a good tracker. She was fit. She was used to Rou and had been part of staged search missions, so Auralia could easily track Brandy’s trail even if conditions for scent trailing weren’t prime.
Still playing through his mind from this morning’s rescue of Jeb: Six inches of muddy water was all it took to move a car. It was more than enough to sweep up a woman. Or two.
If they were good Samaritans as their families had taught them to be—or just humans with hearts beating in their chests—then these accident victims needed their care.
But still, Creed’s gut told him it should have been inverted. Auralia would have done better and been safer here with Sheelah, and he should have been off on the hunt.
And now, he had proof.
Rou’s collar pinged just as Gator came leaping down the slope like his hair was on fire. “Where the hell is she, Creed?”
The three gathered around the video feed and watched.
Gator had his phone out. “Jeff. We have a situation.” He looked up, “Creed, who’s your support?”
“Mandy.”
“Jeff, loop in Mandy to get the exact location of Cerberus Team Charlie K9 Rougarou.”
Over the speaker, they could hear Jeff. “Rougarou is up on our board. I’m texting you her GPS coordinates and loading them to your shirts. We’re updating Commander Striker Rheas. Given the AI data, we have advised police officials on the north side of the bridge.”
“Creed here. Jeff, tell me about the AI.”
“Our systems were able to extract still photos from Rougarou’s video feed that included front, side, and rear pictures of the men who are fighting.
The blonde-haired man is Shane Kirch.” He spelled it out, “Kilo, Igloo, Romeo, Charlie, Hotel. Kirch is married to Brandy Morrison Kirch. He is identified by our systems, using the drone video that Jack captured, as the dell shooter from today’s event. ”
“Creed. Copy Kirch is the husband and the shooter.” Creed hadn’t lifted his gaze from his phone with the real-time video from Rou’s collar. Auralia had to be holding Rou in her arms. And she wasn’t running away. Why?
“Jeff. The second man is identified as Kendal Cowan. Charlie, Oscar, Whiskey, Alpha, November. It found three connections to the accident. One, Cowan lives next door to the Kirch residence. Two, the truck that hit Mayor Early’s SUV was abandoned, and witnesses described the driver as someone who had the same coloring and clothing as Kirch.
Three, the semi that caused the accident belongs to a resident of that same neighborhood, and it was reported stolen. ”
Striker was in their ears. “Striker for Gator and Creed.”
“Mandy and Jeff hold,” Creed said.
Gator pressed his sternal mic. “Go for Gator and Creed.”
“Striker. Get Auralia and Rougarou out of that situation. Brandy’s with her husband.
We are relieved of any duty for her well-being.
The police will handle the matter from this point forward.
I reached out to our FBI friends at Joint Task Force.
They’re on a call as we speak, moving agents to Rougarou’s location.
The FBI will detain Cowan and Kirch. Your assignment is narrow, Auralia and Rougarou. Over.”
“Gator. Copy. Moving. Out.”
The men didn’t need the shirts for navigation. They raced along the shore until they were at the public boat launch.
There, they crouched in the vegetation to get a good read on the lay of the land and how the situation was playing out.
Rougarou let out a high, bright warning bark, and Creed, with his heart beating so hard it had moved to his throat, closed his eyes and sent pictures of Rou being very still and very quiet.
The men could see two jacked-up pickup trucks nose to nose.
The back one had a boat on a trailer. If that had been Shane’s cover for the shooting, it was clever.
As long as he actually took his boat out that day, maybe caught a fish or two, he could easily have hiked to the property and climbed up on the roof.
Yeah, he could have circled back to get here and hang out, looking like he’d been there having a quiet day.
Gator had swung around so he could keep his attention split between what was happening over by the trucks and what they could see from Rou’s collar cam.
The vehicles were enormous and blocked everything but the heads. Three heads—Brandy, Auralia, and the one with black hair, who had to be Kendal Cowan.
“So you know what I look like,” Kendal said over the video feed.
“Me? No. I don’t have my glasses on; they came off in the water when my car went into the river,” Auralia lied.
Kendal held up three fingers. “How many?”
“Three. I’m not blind. I can see general shapes. Like if I had to describe you. I could say you had a brown shirt, you had face parts—two eyes and a nose. I can’t make out your mouth.”
“What’s wrong with Brandy?”
“She needs a hospital if she’s going to survive. Can you see how blank her face is?”
“Yeah, Brandy looked that way since you rescued her out of the water.”
“You saw that?” Auralia asked. “Tell me how you know Brandy.”
“That’s not important.”
“Do you care about Brandy?” Auralia asked.
“I’m here saving her, aren’t I?”
“Brandy needs medical attention. Shock can be lethal. If you know about the day, then you know that her system might be in overdrive. How about you tell me why she’s in shock, and I can see if I can add anything to what you know.”
“Is Auralia buying time, or is she being a goddamned reporter right now?” Gator muttered under his breath.
“Both,” Creed whispered back. “You go with what you know. That’s her comfort zone.”
Kendal must sense eyes on him; he kept glancing over his shoulder and into the trees.
“Let’s see,” he refocused on Auralia, “from the texts I got, her dad surprised them with that story about the second family. And she was freaking out about that. But in the car, her dad said he made it up to add suspects to the FBI's list and get the feds off Shane’s trail. Either way, that shook her up pretty bad. Then there was the shot. She knew about that, so while that might have been a plan—well, I’m a combat vet and when an actual bullet goes winging your way, it's still shocking.”
“Then the accident,” Auralia added, “and sailing off a bridge into storm-raging, ice-cold waters. That’ll lower the core temperature pretty good.
Oh, and then, Dad escaped the SUV, but left her there to die.
Shocking. And then the surprise of being saved.
Then, seeing her mom pulled out unconscious.
Then back into the ice-cold water, which lowered the core temperature again. ”
“My poor baby girl.”
“Physically and emotionally, Brandy’s in shock. Shock can be deadly,” Auralia was using her reporter's voice. It was calm, respectful, and presented facts.
“Deadly, how? I mean, we warm her up.” Creed and Gator saw the guy turn and look over at the fire pit.
“Cellular oxygen deprivation means that Brandy’s not processing the air she’s breathing in.
Without oxygen, cells die, and she can go into organ failure.
That can also lead to brain damage or coma.
The damage can be irreversible. She could die.
” There was a flicking sound. “Don’t even think of starting a fire,” Auralia commanded.
“First, the woods are on fire, and we’re only safe because of the water buffer.
What’s dry over there is dry over here. And second, if she’s oxygen-depleted, warm isn’t going to help.
An oxygen tent at the hospital will help. ”
“This is Shane’s truck right there. We could get her in and crank the heat.”
“The truck is a very good idea.”
“You’re that reporter woman.”
“I’m the woman who saved your beloved twice. And I’m going to help you lift her into the truck. Do you have any medical training?”
“No,” he whispered.
“Then I’m going to be the woman who keeps fighting to save Brandy’s life. Does that sound like the kind of person you need on your team?”
“Yes.”
“Then could you get the gun out of my face?” Auralia asked.
“Mystery solved,” Creed whispered to Gator. “That’s why she didn’t run.”
“Do you want to check you didn’t kill that guy when you stomped on his face?” Auralia asked Kendal.
“Nope.”
“Can I go check on him?”
“Nope.”
“All right. Here, help me get Brandy up into the front seat. Do you think it lies back? Are there keys? Turn it on and get the heat going on high.”
“Ma’am, you’re going to do that. Remember, my gun is on you. I’m a damned good shot. Like I said, I’ve been to war.”
“Were you a Marine? My brother is retired from the Marine Corps. My fiancé, too.”
Good woman, build that relationship. You’re on the same side. Creed sent his thoughts winging to Auralia.
“My fiancé was on the security team,” Auralia continued. “He said that so far this wasn’t the worst traffic accident in US history, but it might make the top ten, given the topography of the land and the rain, making it hard to see.”
“A lot then? I mean, from this side of the river, there are a few cars that hit.”