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“We’re looking into that.” One of the FBI agents leans in close.
“What about that grant they share?”
“Which one is that?” The FBI profiler looks at me.
“They share a research grant to study the decomposition of humans and animals. I don’t know how something like that works, but it seems like a good place to dump a body.” Sometimes, I hate this job. Didn’t take but a second to make that leap. There’s simply too much evil in this world.
“I had the same thought,” Mitzy jumps in. “But that decomp farm is highly regulated. It would be like shitting where you live. I already ruled it out.”
“Maybe we need to take another look.” The profiler pulls up information on the decomp farm as we watch.
“You start messing with their research and it’s basically sending up a red flag. The last thing we want is for them to know we’re onto them.”
“I think they’re aware we’re onto them.” I brush my fingers over the bandage on my side. “They didn’t bother to ensure I was dead, and they’re smart enough to know what we do. We are the Hostage Rescue Specialists, and right now, they have three of our team: Kaye, Barbi, and Alec. Which means…” I massage my neck. My entire body’s a mess of sore muscles.
“Which means, what?” Mitzy props her hands on her hips.
“I don’t know. That’s your job to figure out, but they’ve been at this a while.”
“What tells you that?” Mitzy cocks her left hip forward. She hates being challenged.
“You didn’t see the way they interacted.” I roll my head to the side and attack a knot of muscle. “It was weird. Dean is the alpha. Scott the beta. Men like that don’t just fall into that kind of dynamic. Something triggers it. You’ve just got to find it.”
“Zeb, I love you like a brother,” Mitzy says, “and I’m telling you, we’re doing everything we can. We will find them, but you look like shit. Pack your gear, then get some shuteye. If we find something, I’ll…”
“When you find something,” I correct her.
“Whenwe find something,” she says, “Bravo and Charlie teams will go.”
“Charlie?” I look to CJ and Sam.
“The moment Alec went missing, we escalated. This is a two-team mission now.” Sam’s gruff voice breaks through the quiet. “I disagree about the decomp farm.”
“Why?” Mitzy cocks her head to the side.
“Zeb’s right. They have every reason to think we’re onto them. I say give them a show.” Sam turns to the FBI lead agent. “What do you say? Do you have a team that can work that angle?”
“Absolutely. It’ll take a day, but I can have my people on it at first light.”
First light? If Guardian HRS was in charge, we’d have people there within an hour. But I know when to keep my thoughts to myself. We’re not in competition with the FBI, and turning this into a pissing contest helps no one.
“Zeb…” Sam clamps a hand on my shoulder. “I want you on this mission. Prep your gear and get some rest.” He doesn’t mention he’ll yank me at the first sign I’m not physically up to it.
“Copy that.” I take in a deep breath, look around the room once more, and remind myself these are the best geeks on the planet. If anyone’s going to find Kaye—Barbi and Alec too—it’ll be someone in this room.
As I take it all in, CJ steps up beside me and speaks quietly so only I can hear him.
“Seriously. Get that rest. Skye was generous letting you out of the hospital. We don’t know how long things are going to be like this, but take advantage while you can.”
“Heard. Loud and clear.”
He’s right, of course. If Mitzy’s team figures out where these girls were taken there might be a chance we save not only Kaye and Barbi, but maybe one or more of the others might still be alive when we get there.
“I’ll be in the bullpen.” With that, I execute a sharp about-face and leave Mitzy and her team to their task.
It takes ten minutes to pack my shit, which leaves me spinning my wheels in Bravo’s bullpen. I take advantage of my time, hit the showers, then dress out in my black tactical fatigues. Tired and strung out, I sling my hammock in my personal gear locker, and immediately fall asleep as the grim realization sets in.
Scott and Alder have been murdering young women for years and no one noticed because they picked their victims well: women who lived far from campus, and none near any of the others.
