Fuck it.
Bree’s brain hurt from trying to sort out the political ramification of every sentence before she spoke. She had to find Todd. She’d deal with Ash and BCI tomorrow. As long as she found her chief deputy alive, she didn’t even care if they arrested her. But she hoped Morgan was as good as her reputation, because Ash had a burr up his butt regarding her.
“I’ll contact Ms. Dane and get back to you,” she said.
“When?” Ash snapped.
Bree worked to keep her voice even. “After I hear back from her.”
“I expect a phone call tomorrow.”
“You’ll get a callback within a reasonable length of time. Ms. Dane is a busy woman. Good night, Ash.” Bree ended the connection before he could respond.
“What a dick,” Matt muttered. “Seriously, he’s jonesing for you.”
“Why?” Bree wanted to throw her phone out the window. Instead, she sent Morgan a text.
“Sheriff is an elected office. You can’t be fired. Maybe he thinks you could be the leg up he needs to further his own career.”
“The governor appointed me. He can also remove me.”
“He’d need a damned good reason. Gossip wouldn’t cut it.”
“True.”
“You’ve been popular so far. But these deepfakes jeopardize your reputation. Until now, you’ve been shielded by the voters’ will, but if they turn on you . . .”
“I’m through and no longer an asset. Maybe Ash thinks he can take the credit for bringing me down.” She sighed.
“Exactly.”
Bree mulled that over. “I don’t care. Not tonight.” Her phone vibrated. She read the screen. “There’s our warrant. Let’s go.”
There was no way to sneak up on Dylan in their vehicles, not the way he’d set up his property. Bree motioned for her deputies to follow her in their vehicles. They parked in front of a bend in the long driveway, the last spot their vehicles wouldn’t be visible from the house.
Matt and Bree stepped out of the SUV. Matt opened the rear door. Impatient, Brody tried to jump down, but Matt stopped him with a command, then lifted him out of the vehicle.
Despite the coolness of the evening, sweat dripped down Bree’s back under her body armor. “He probably has cameras or an alarm of some sort. With all the surveillance on his house, I can’t imagine he would have left out the approach.”
“Not much we can do about that.” Matt checked the Velcro on his vest and shortened Brody’s leash. The dog stood beside him, tensed and poised to work.
Bree regripped her rifle, adjusted her earpiece, and initiated a communications check with Matt and the four deputies she’d brought. When each team member had responded, Bree was satisfied. She motioned them forward.
Given the exigent circumstances, she had emphasized in the affidavit that she feared for Todd’s life. She had requested—and had been granted—a no-knock warrant, with the judge’s warning that she had better be right or he’d never sign another one for her.
Bree led the way, jogging down the long driveway. Gravel crunched underfoot, and she moved to the side of the lane. They slowed as they rounded the bend. The house came into view. Though the sun hadn’t fully set, the thick canopy prematurely darkened the clearing. They crept forward, using the deep shadows as cover.
Matt motioned toward himself and the detached garage. Bree nodded. He skirted the clearing and approached the building from the side. Rising onto his toes, he shined his flashlight through a high window. Brody sniffed at the foundation but didn’t seem interested. The dog could smell and hear what they could not see. She doubted there was anyone inside.
Matt’s voice sounded in Bree’s ear. “One vehicle. An SUV, not Dylan’s truck. Too dark to read the license plate.”
“Roger that,” she answered. If Dylan’s truck wasn’t in the garage, then he was probably driving it. He probably wasn’t even here. Bree contacted dispatch and requested a BOLO alert on Brian Dylan and his vehicle.
Matt returned to her side. With the deputies behind them, she and Matt jogged toward the house. At the edge of the clearing, Bree signaled to Collins and Juarez to loop around back and watch the rear exit. Her earpiece crackled as Collins softly announced they were in position. Then Bree and Matt hurried across the clearing to the front door. She nodded to Matt. He tried the knob. Locked.
She motioned another deputy forward. He carried the battering ram to the front door, swung it, and made solid contact just above the doorknob. The door was solid steel, and it took several good hits before the frame splintered and the door swung inward.
Thanks to regular training exercises, they entered the house as a team. Bree pivoted left, sweeping her rifle into the corners of the room. Matt and Brody went right, and the deputies followed suit. Brody didn’t pull in any particular direction. Bree doubted anyone was home.
The house was multilevel. A split staircase opened off the foyer. They divided into two pairs. Matt and Bree went up a set of steps while her two deputies headed down. The two extra bedrooms were sparsely furnished and simple to search. Bree ducked into the primary bedroom. A double-size bed dominated the space, but the room was mostly empty.
She opened the closet. “Clear.”
“Clear.” Matt emerged from an attached bathroom. He’d let out the leash to give the dog some freedom. Brody was on guard but still not alerting. Matt frowned at his dog. “No one’s here.”
“Agreed.” Bree had learned to trust Brody. He might not officially be with the department anymore, but the dog hadn’t forgotten a thing. And he was uncannily right every time. She spoke into her lapel mic and checked in with the deputies downstairs.
“All clear down here, ma’am,” one responded. “No Chief Deputy Harvey.”
“Outbuildings are clear,” Collins said. “No sign of the chief deputy out here either.”
Bree dropped her hand and turned to Matt. “We’ll sweep the grounds next, but he probably moved out last night.”
Matt waved a hand. “Looks more like barracks than a bedroom. I’m sure he had bug-out bags ready.”
Nodding, Bree moved downstairs.
Her two deputies exited a room. Through the doorway, Bree could see a large desk topped with multiple monitors. “Did he leave computer equipment?”
“Just the peripherals.” The deputy pointed to the desk. “There’s a piece missing, probably the main unit and hard drive.”
Nodding, Bree led them out of the house. In full dusk, they switched on flashlights to illuminate the ground. The wind shifted to blow scent from the direction of the river. Brody lifted his nose, let out a thin whine, and danced.
“He smells something,” Matt said.
“I’ve got footprints.” Juarez’s voice sounded in her ear. “I’m around back.”
Bree hurried around the house to the backyard. Once Brody cleared the side of the house, he lunged toward the river. Matt could barely hold him back.
Juarez pointed his flashlight at the ground. The soil under the trees was soft. A set of boot prints led away from the house toward the river. Matt let Brody move forward. The dog needed no footprints. He followed a scent on the air.
Bree followed them, maintaining a parallel path and taking care not to disturb the prints themselves. They led to a cliff.
“Whoa, boy.” Matt commanded Brody to sit. The dog obeyed, but his reluctance was clear in his stiff posture. His gaze and full attention were focused on the drop-off.
Bree walked to the edge and shone her light into the abyss below. The drop was about forty feet. Cutting through the darkness, her beam barely reached the rocky riverbank below. Horror paralyzed her for one heartbeat. In the weakened light, she could see the distinct outline of a body.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Matt stared over the edge of the cliff. Below, weeds, rocks, and sandy earth composed the riverbank. The body lay facedown, but Matt could see that it was male, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.