Her Dying Breath (24 page)

A savage look darkened his eyes. “Did you see what kind of car it was?”

Brenda shook her head. “No…It was dark, and it all happened too fast.”

Nick rubbed at his chin. “Do you have any enemies?”

She licked her lips, her eyes closing. “No—at least, not that I know of.”

Suddenly the door to the hospital room opened, and her parents stormed in. “My God, baby, what happened?” her father asked.

“Brenda, are you all right, sugar?” her mother cried.

Nick tensed and stepped away from Brenda.

“What’s going on?” her father said.

Her mother pushed past him and rushed to her bed, her makeup smeared with tears. “Oh, no, look at the bruises on your face, darling.”

“I asked, what happened?” her father barked.

“Dad, Mom, calm down,” Brenda pleaded as her mother pulled her into a hug that only made her sore ribs feel more brittle.

“Brenda was in an accident,” Nick said.

Her father gave Nick a pointed look. “If it was an accident, why are you here?”

The brooding darkness returned to Nick’s eyes as he introduced himself. “I’m Special Agent Nick Blackwood.” He extended his hand, but her father stared at it without offering his own. “I came to ask Brenda about the accident.”

“It’s your fault that Brenda’s here, that she’s hurt,” her father said sharply. “You and your brother and father—you’ve shamed this town.”

“My father did, yes,” Nick said. “But my brother and I are trying to help.”

“Daddy,” Brenda said, “please calm down. Nick is investigating—”

“You’re in here because you’re digging into things you shouldn’t be,” her father roared. “I told you to stay out of it, Brenda!”

He turned to Nick. “My daughter doesn’t belong in your ugly world.” Then he took Brenda’s hand. “Now when you recover, sweetheart, you’re coming home so your mother and I can take care of you.”

Panic clawed at Brenda. The last place she wanted to be was at her parents’ house, being smothered and criticized by them at the same time.

Nick’s phone rang, and he checked the number. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”

He stepped outside to answer it, then ducked his head in a minute later. “I have to go.”

“Nick, wait,” Brenda said.

Nick’s cool gaze slid over her parents. “I’m meeting Jake. Your parents are right. When you’re released, go home with them so you’ll be safe.”

Brenda started to argue, but Nick disappeared again. Damn him. He was not going to cut her out of this case.

In fact, if whoever had hit her was trying to scare her off the story, they didn’t know her at all.

The attack had only fueled her temper.

Nothing would stop her from finding the truth now.

Nick hated to leave Brenda, but at least she was safe in the hospital. And her parents would watch her.

Adopted or not, they loved her.

Good God. He was starting to care for her, too. Starting to care too damn much.

Fuck. The first rule of police work was not to get personally involved with a suspect or witness. Caring about someone meant putting them in danger, making them vulnerable to criminals.

Maybe the mayor could convince Brenda to lay low for a while. Maybe he’d lock her in his house, and Nick wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore.

He rushed out of the hospital and jumped into his car.

“I’m at that property in the north,” Jake said. “A fire destroyed a lot of the main house, but it looks suspicious.”

“How?”

“There’s a dead body inside. A woman.” Jake paused. “And this was no accident. Someone tied her inside and left her to die.”

N
ick parked by Jake’s car and climbed out, the scent of smoke striking him. His brother was right. This place was in the middle of nowhere, completely off the grid.

A perfect place to hide, or to hold someone hostage.

Although most of the house had burned down, the frame of the long L-shaped building remained. Two smaller buildings sat to the side, while barbed wire fencing encircled the property, making it feel like a prison yard.

Jake met him at the edge of the ashes. “It looks like there was a main room, a kitchen, and four bedrooms in the back. I’ll have the arson investigator verify that this was no accident, but I smelled gasoline.”

Nick grimaced at the sight of the charred body. “Jesus, she was handcuffed to that pipe and left to die.”

Nick narrowed his eyes, then knelt to study the body. “It appears she was struck on the back of her head with something sharp.”

“Maybe she was dead before she burned up.”

“So who was here and why kill her?” Nick asked.

Jake shone a flashlight along the footprint of the structure. Here and there a smattering of bricks remained. The metal edge of an old bed. A bookshelf. “Hopefully the fire investigators will be able to find something in the ashes.”

“The area to the left looks like it might have been a dorm of some kind,” Nick said, noting the way the rooms appeared to be lined up. The metal desks looked the same, each with a bookcase beside it, a single metal bed against the wall. He examined the ashes by the bookshelf. “These might have been textbooks.”

“There’s not a college or school anywhere near here,” Jake said with a frown.

“It could have been some kind of home for troubled kids where they conducted their own classes.”

Jake frowned as he pointed to metal restraints by one bed. “Not a school—a prison.”

Nick’s insides chilled. A deserted compound in the mountains, rooms with handcuffs and restraints, two outbuildings. “Do you know of any homes for troubled kids in the area?”

“There’s a ranch, but it’s farther north. I never heard of any school or home out here.”

Nick gestured to one of the chains. “That looks like blood.”

Jake arched a brow. “You think this place might be related to the Slaughter Creek project?”

“It’s hard to say. Could be some other maniac who abused his wife and children. Or a kidnapping case involving a psycho.” Nick pulled at his chin.

“I’ll check police reports for missing women or children when I get back.”

Nick found a business card that had partially burned in the fire, but he could make out enough of the letters to know it was for Stark Security. “Someone from that security company was here.”

“Maybe Logger discovered that a predator was holding a woman or child hostage,” Jake suggested.

“That’s possible. It would explain why Logger was upset about the job.” Noticing something shiny, Nick stooped down, raking ashes from the corner by the bed. A ring, a plain silver band covered in soot, lay in the pile. Sliding on gloves, he picked it up and examined it.

It looked as if there might be some kind of etching inside, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

“You called a crime team?”

‘They’re on their way.”

“Have them see if they can lift a print off this ring.” Beside the charred beds, smoky ashes and debris littered the floor.

“It’s worse in the other building.” Jake gestured toward the outbuildings and led the way, the stench of smoke and blood swirling in the air as they entered.

Nick grimaced and aimed his flashlight toward the side. “There are restraints attached to the walls in those stalls.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jake muttered. “Someone was obviously held captive here.”

They walked to the next building, a sense of dread congealing in Nick’s stomach. A second later, his fears were confirmed when he saw two rooms that resembled labs. “This looks like some kind of torture chamber. There are medical instruments, a stainless steel table, and a medicine cabinet, although it’s been cleaned out.”

“No computer,” Jake commented.

“This place was definitely hidden from the road.” The mountains surrounded them, the compound set in a pocket that shielded it from view. It was so damn dark, he could barely see his feet.

Nick shone his flashlight across the door to another room, then stepped inside. Bile rose in his throat. Two wooden boxes that resembled coffins sat against opposite walls.

Jake threw up a hand. “I don’t want to even look inside.”

Neither did Nick, but he forced himself to open the lid, and shone his light on the inside of the box. Blood and hair and
something he guessed might have been skin cells were evident in the box, and there were scratches on the sides and top. “Someone was locked in these boxes.”

Jake knelt and pointed to a wooden slat on the floor, and Nick stooped down and pried at the boards.

“It’s a fucking hole,” he muttered.

“There are fingernail marks on the inside as well,” Jake said, horrified.

Rage at the demented person who’d used this place boiled inside Nick. Was this torture chamber related to the Slaughter Creek project? To his father?

To Seven?

Was this the place where she’d been kept after she was moved from Slaughter Creek?

Or was there another psychopath on the loose?

Brenda swallowed her pain medication and silently willed her parents to leave, but they’d been hovering over her like mother hens. It was driving her crazy.

“Exactly what happened again?” her father said.

Brenda pulled the blanket up over her. “I told you, a deer ran in front of me, and I swerved to miss it. I lost control and ran off the road.”

“That must have been so frightening,” her mother said.

More frightening that someone had intentionally tried to kill her. But she didn’t intend to share that with her parents. They’d chain her to a bodyguard for the rest of her life.

Her mother fiddled with her earring. “What can we do for you, sugar?”

“Go home, get some rest, and stop worrying,” Brenda said. “I’m fine. The doctor just wanted to keep me here tonight for observation.”

Her father rubbed his hand over his bald spot as he paced by her bed. “I thought when you first worked for the paper that you’d get all this nonsense about investigating out of your head. This line of work is no place for you, Brenda.”

“Your dad is right,” her mother said. “The pieces you wrote about the garden club and that nice story on Janie Tudor’s debutante ball—those were perfect for you.” She patted the sheet covering Brenda. “Why don’t you go back to writing those interesting pieces, honey?”

Because she had a brain. “Investigative reporting is a step up for me,” Brenda said, biting back a retort. “A chance to show the network what I’m worth.”

“What you’re worth,” her father said sarcastically. “I’ll tell you what you’re worth. More than that federal agent whose father just about destroyed our community. His sons need to pack up and leave town, so everybody can heal.”

The throbbing in Brenda’s head grew more incessant. “Daddy, Nick and Jake Blackwood are honorable men. They’re trying to correct their father’s wrongs and locate the victims so they can help them.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what they’re doing,” her father said. “I want you away from them so you’ll be safe.”

“He’s right,” her mother murmured. “When the doctor releases you in the morning, you’ll come home where you belong. Then we can take care of you.”

Good heavens, she wasn’t a five-year-old with a cold.

Brenda gripped the rails of the bed, her cheeks aching from biting her tongue. “I know you mean well, both of you, but in the morning, I’m going to my condo. Please, you two, go home. I need some sleep.”