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He wanted to laugh over that picture. What a tasty morsel he’d make for a predator. He was nearly unwrapped for easy eating, wearing only the foolish hospital gown he’d had on in bed. Which wasn’t helping his situation.
Cold had now permeated every inch of his body. He could give up, or… Fleet gritted his teeth, an action he could now perform, and concentrated on his little finger again.
Wiggle. Wiggle, wiggle.
He wasn’t about to give up.
* * *
“I’ve got drag marks,”a voice from Talia’s left called out triumphantly. The same voice instantly sounded over her mic. “Amos up. All squads to me. I have signs of a large burden being dragged.” He named his coordinates.
Mason’s voice rang out next. “Everyone converge to Amos’s rear. Do not precede him. Let him take the lead while the rest of you give backup. Spread out behind him to make sure nothing is missed, keeping a distance of no more than three feet between you.”
“Spires up,” Talia keyed in. Oh, hell no. She wasn’t going to be left to sweep up. “Permission to join Amos at point, Chief.”
She could almost hear him thinking before he relented. “Do it. But keep a level head, Talia. We don’t know what we’re going to find.”
“Copy that, Chief,” she agreed.
“Cisco, you’re with me,” Talia barked to her second in command. “When you said two hundred yards, you were spot on. Now how far could you…drag somebody?” She swallowed a lump that almost threatened to strangle her question. She didn’t want to think of Fleet’s nearly naked body being hauled roughly across the forest floor.
“Depends if he was trussed up or not,” Cisco grunted. “If he was just in a hospital gown and I had to rely on pulling him by his hands or feet, it would be damned slow going. If he were wrapped in something…say…a tarp with a rope, I could go for a long time.”
That’s what Talia had been afraid of, but at least they’d have a trail to follow.
“What do you think, Amos?” She’d reached the leader of G squad, who was examining the ground carefully and squatted beside him.
“I think Eggers was wrapped in something. You see this? There’s only one drag mark that leads away. If he was only in his johnny and being moved by his feet, we’d have his head furrowing a gouge in the leaves, and his hands would be making lighter ones where they trailed loosely. If he’d been taken by the arms and pulled, we’d have two distinct marks from his feet.”
“That’s either good news or bad,” Talia couldn’t keep the words in her mouth as they both rose to their feet and began the painstakingly slow trek forward.
“How so?” Amos asked.
“It’s good if he’s alive, because his body will be protected. It could, however, mean he’s…dead.” There was that lump again, dammit, but she couldn’t manage to get rid of it. What if Fleet had been killed?
She didn’t know if she could handle that. In the short time they’d spent together, Fleet had become so important to her. He was the first man in a long time who actually piqued her interest in all ways. He was intellectually her equal, he was artistically her superior, and in the physical attraction arena, damn, the man was off the charts. Talia had never in her thirty-two years had a visceral reaction to any male like she’d had to Fleet. The couple kisses they’d shared had proven it. And dammit, she was nowhere near being finished. She needed more time with the compelling man to explore, and to convince him to let down whatever fucked up barriers he’d erected, letting her in.
Talia pulled her head out of her ass and doubled-down on paying attention to where Amos was leading. She trusted his tracking skills, and easily gave him lead.
Time passed slowly, painstakingly. Inch by inch they covered ground.
At times, Amos pointed out where the burden had been shifted, rearranged to create a different drag pattern. There were flattened areas of leaves where their perpetrator had sat to take a rest. There was a candy wrapper which Talia, donning gloves to pick it up, put it in a bag for DNA sampling.
But after an additional ten minutes of searching, they had yet to—
“Amos! What’s that?” Talia yelped, pointing to a dark lump on the ground up ahead. Flashlights raised from all sides as feet sped forward and squads moved in, suddenly disregarding the methodical way they’d previously trod.
Amos reached the bundle first, dropping to his heels.
“It’s not him,” he hissed, disappointment etched in his face as he turned to Talia. He tugged gloves out of his pocket and put them on to begin examining the bunched-up tarp, unfolding it from its crumpled position. “But it’s one-hundred percent what he was dragged in,” Amos supplied more excitedly. “Look at this.”
Everyone crowded around, concentrating on where Amos pointed. “Blood, like what we had in the parking lot before Welker lost the trial. Whoever did this, wrapped Fleet up to make getting him into the woods, easier. And here.” He pointed again. “This dirt encrusted spot is where the tarp was dragged, which means…”
Talia stood up and began shining her light amongst the trees. “Which means our perp unwrapped Fleet and carried him somewhere nearby. He’s got to be close,” she managed, her breathing tightening her voice. She cleared her throat to make herself heard. “He’s here somewhere nearby, people. Eyes everywhere.”
Cisco’s dry tone rang out. “He might have been hoisted into a tree, or he could be buried somewhere.”
Not a picture Talia wanted in her head. She cleared her throat. “Cisco has a good point. He may not be lying out in the open, so careful going. Let’s find Fleet and get him home.”
