They nodded and melted into the background. Fitz watched them for a moment as they set up their defensive positions. Satisfied they wouldn’t be ambushed, he turned his attention back to Taylor and Jill.
Taylor was on the radio. “Fourteen to base. We’ve got the package. She’s a single, repeat, no one else found. Copy?”
“Copy that, fourteen. Eighteen is on the way, ETA five minutes.”
“Copy. Base, we need a bus sent here. No ME. Copy?”
“Copy, fourteen, bus, no ME. Got it. Out.”
Taylor smiled at Fitz. An ambulance was on the way for Jill. Marcus and Baldwin had found enough evidence at the Granny White address to sink Gabriel Lucas. But they couldn’t celebrate yet. They were only halfway there. Now they had to find Lucas.
“It doesn’t look like he’s living here, just has some bare essentials to keep Jill fed. Didn’t find any drugs or syringes either. He must keep them with him,” Taylor said.
Fitz started opening drawers and cabinets in the kitchen. Taylor went to the window. From this angle, she could see a large shed about one hundred feet away from the house, backed up to the woods.
She turned to Fitz, who was ministering to Jill, getting her a glass of water. “Hey, Fitz, there’s a shed out here. I’m going to go check it out.”
“Miller’s out there. Make sure he knows it’s you.”
“Gotcha.” She went out the front door and whistled sharply. Miller stepped out from the side of the house, and she pointed at the shed. He nodded and melted back into the darkness.
She crossed the hundred feet or so to the shed. It was old and rickety, didn’t look like it would stand a good storm. Miller slid around the side of the shed from the back and they took up standard positions on either side of the door.
Taylor nodded at him, then kicked it open.
Seventy-Two
The interior of the shed was about ten feet by six, and smelled musty, like old mulch left to rot through the fall. Taylor flashed her Maglite from corner to corner and saw nothing to excite her. A few rusted garden tools, an old lawnmower, a bag of birdseed ravaged and emptied by scavengers. She shook her head to Miller and closed the door behind her.
“Go on back to the house. I’m right behind you.”
She took advantage of the relative calm to congratulate herself. They had found Jill safely and had identified where Lucas was doing his horrific crimes. Now they just had to find Lucas himself, and they could wrap this up with a neat little bow.
She started back to the house, and a shadow flitted out of the corner of her eye. She felt every nerve ending start to tingle. Her heart thumped hard in her chest.
He was here. She could feel him now. He must have been hiding in the woods behind the shed. She drew her Glock and went into a crouch, trying vainly to see in the darkness. She swung the site of the gun left, then right, started to move forward. She heard a twig snap and spun around, then a loud grunt. It was too dark to see, was that Miller? She was afraid to call out, didn’t want to draw attention to her spot.
She took a cautious step forward, and something shoved her backward. She fell hard on her butt, her gun jolting out of her hand as she tried to catch herself. She caught her breath and scrambled up. The gun, where is the gun? Where is Miller?
Gabriel Lucas stepped out of the shadows and stood in front of her, a wicked long chef’s knife held in his right hand.
“Did you hurt her? Did you hurt Jill?”
Breathe, Taylor. Talk him down.
“No, Professor Lucas, Jill is fine. She’s inside with some of my men. Why don’t you drop that knife and we can go in and talk to her.”
Taylor could see the fright in his eyes. “You said you didn’t hurt her? Is she okay? Jill!” he screamed.
“Lucas, stop right there. Drop the knife. If you don’t drop the knife, you can’t talk to Jill.”
Gabriel’s mood shifted, and he smiled at her. His voice was calm now, gentle. “I am Gabriel. Only Gabriel. I have changed the universe. You can’t hurt me.” He took two steps backward, never taking his eyes off Taylor.
Taylor tried to keep his line of vision to the kitchen blocked. “Gabriel. I told you Jill is fine. Now put your hands on your head, and turn around very slowly.” She stepped back, saw the outline of her Glock four feet away to her right. She’d have to dive for it if she needed to use it. She needed to distract Lucas, get him to put down the knife.
His eyes were roving, searching, looking behind her, almost as if he was trying to get her to turn her head away from him, and then he’d tackle her. She wasn’t falling for it, kept her eyes locked on his.
When he feinted a move toward her, she stepped to the right. One step closer to her Glock.