“Yes, fourteen, it is. We have biologicals in a back bedroom, too, otherwise site two is clear. Nobody home. Copy?”
“Copy eighteen. Request you call Sam’s team to site two, then meet us at site three, please. Copy?”
“Copy that.” Marcus turned to Baldwin. “Let’s get the crime scene techs out here and head on to Hillsboro. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
The Hillsboro address was their last chance. Baldwin sent up a silent prayer Taylor and Fitz would find Jill safe.
Seventy-One
Taylor slowed and shut off her lights, pulled into the long driveway of the single-story rambler. There were no cars in the drive, and the lights weren’t burning. She looked around for better cover and saw a small road forking off to the right. It was unused and unpaved, overgrown with weeds.
“This place must be worth a fortune.” Fitz was looking at the land greedily. “Even though the house looks small, the land’s gotta be worth half a million, at the very least. Man, I’d kill for a spread like this.”
Taylor raised an eyebrow and gave him a smile. “You’re probably right. Look at this road. Must be the track to an old barn. Lots of horse country out here before they built it all up. Lucky us, it’s the perfect place to stash the car.”
She pulled down the path and almost rammed the car into a police cruiser. Officer Miller and Officer Wills must have had the same idea. She stopped behind the first car and popped the trunk so they could grab the gear stashed there. She and Fitz stepped out into the cool night air.
The two officers stepped out from the front of their cars. They looked dangerous, dressed head to toe in their black SWAT gear, guns pointing from every angle.
“Good of you to join us.” Miller said. “Didn’t see no cars in the drive when we pulled in, thought we’d just duck in here.” Miller flashed Taylor a smile, his white teeth flashing in the moonlight. “Heard your transmissions. You guys matched DNA on this one, huh?”
“Close, there’s a blood type match between this guy and semen found at the first scene. Enough to go on. Thanks for coming. His other two addresses are clear. The West End property is a rental. You heard Marcus’ transmission, looks like he was killing the girls at the Granny White address. Which leaves this spot as his hidey-hole. Marcus and Baldwin will be showing up, so don’t shoot them. You’ve seen the picture of the girl we’re looking for?”
“Yeah, Jill Gates. We also got a shot of this Gabriel Lucas character. How do you want it to go down?”
Taylor was shrugging into her bulletproof vest, and Fitz was checking the shells on a shotgun he’d gotten out of her trunk. “Fitz and I will take the front. You guys get the back. When you hear the door break in, get in the house. We’ll start looking for Jill. You start looking for Lucas. Clear?”
“Clear.” Their combined voices made the word echo in the darkness.
“Good. He’s going to protect Jill and the baby. He’ll think we’re trying to hurt her and will do anything to defend her, but he’s sick and may not have the physical power to fend us off. Keep an eye out for weapons.”
After conducting one last press check on their guns, they stole silently into the night.
The house was set back far from the road on at least a few acres of land. Though there were other houses around, they were far enough apart that nosy neighbors wouldn’t see them sneaking through the grass.
They crept to the house to take up their stations. There was a flicker of light coming through the window on the east side of the house. Taylor reached the window, stuck her head up quickly and saw it was the kitchen. She couldn’t see anyone inside. She signaled to Miller and Wills to head around the back. She and Fitz made their way to the front of the house, then to the front porch. She felt Fitz tug lightly on her shirt. She pulled up short and turned to him, brows raised. He whispered, “Easy, now.” She blew out a deep breath and nodded. They made their way to the front door.
Taylor had a momentary thought of simply ringing the bell and grinned to herself. Surely a rational man like Gabriel Lucas would invite them in to make their arrest. She sent up a last silent prayer as Fitz stepped in front of her, lifted his fingers in a silent one, two, three, then shouted, “Metro police,” and kicked in the door.
They were met with no resistance. They saw Miller and Wills come in the back door. It was unlocked; they had simply turned the knob and it opened. Both entrances opened into a dark great room. Two hallways shot off opposite sides of the room. One led to the kitchen; the source of the meager light she’d seen from the window was the backsplash light on the stove. The other hall was dark.
Fitz jerked his head to Miller, who tapped Wills on the shoulder and gestured toward the kitchen. He nodded at Taylor and pointed down the darkened hall. Taylor went first, Fitz followed, guns at the ready.