First Wave, page 12
His eyes met Dakota’s. “What?”
Still mad at him.
She shrugged one shoulder and said, “Nothing.” Then walked with Victoria toward the main house. “Is it just me, or did he seem like he wanted me to say something?”
“Maybe you could have tried apologizing.”
“For what?”
One of Victoria’s perfect eyebrows rose. “How about stranding him on the side of the road and abducting his dog? Getting him shot.”
“I didn’t shoot him. That wasn’t my fault.”
“You’re right,” Victoria said. “That wasn’t your fault.”
Dakota frowned. “What are we doing here, anyway?”
“They cleared out. When Niall got here, he found the gate open and called me. Talia, Josh, and I showed up half an hour ago. Closets were partially cleaned out. Storage sheds cleared of weapons. They packed, but they did it in a hurry.”
“Did they leave anything we can use?”
“So far we’ve found some correspondence. Nothing that gives us anything we didn’t know already from running their IDs.”
“But it’s physical evidence,” Dakota said. When Victoria nodded, she went on. “Anything else?”
“Niall is searching the last building. Josh was helping, but he came out when he heard you were here.”
Dakota glanced back to see Josh wandering the edges of buildings. Neema squatted and peed on a patch of grass. He clicked his fingers, and they set off.
“He was mad.”
Dakota didn’t say anything.
“He got shot for you.”
She spun to face her boss. “And that gives you the right to dredge up my past, hang it out for all to see?”
“No one else knows except me.” Victoria folded her slender arms. “In fact, I’m not even convinced that I have the whole story.”
“You think I lied to you?” She wasn’t the one who did that. Victoria had dragged Josh in, planned on using him to speak with her father. “Nothing he can give you is going to aid at all in this case. It won’t help.”
“Not even a window into their state of mind?” Victoria paused. “Clare and her people are still up to something and on the run. We’re sniffing at their heels. Where will they go?”
“We’ll find them.”
Victoria eyed her. After a minute or so, she sighed. “I think they received a transport that came over the Canadian border a few weeks ago.”
Dakota bit the inside of her mouth again, then winced because it was sore.
“Another way he might be able to help.”
Dakota shook her head. “That was years ago. You think my father’s contacts are even still alive, let alone still active? It’s a long shot.”
“Long shots are what I do,” Victoria said. “Why do you think you’re here?”
Before Dakota could react to that, Victoria tipped her head back and let out that delicate giggle of hers.
Dakota rolled her eyes, just to make a point. Yes, she’d been a long shot. Victoria had written counseling into the contract for her employment, and Dakota couldn’t deny it had helped. She’d long since let her father’s neglect and abuse go. It might have been better if he’d picked one. As it was, the constant back-and-forth, never knowing how he was going to act, had been the worst part.
“Guys!” Niall’s voice rang out across the compound. She had to hand it to him—he had excellent timing.
Dakota jogged over to where he stood in the doorway of one of the Quonset huts. “What is it?”
His face had darkened, his eyes serious. Enough she knew that though it might not be as bad as that Colorado Springs thing, it was still bad. He shook his head. “You’re gonna want to have the dog stay outside on this one.”
Josh gave Neema two commands. Dakota didn’t know what they meant, but the dog laid down on the grass. She watched as he lifted his hand, palm out and said, “Bleib.” And then moved to the doorway. Neema didn’t get up, but all her attention was on Josh.
Dakota realized she was staring at both of them and turned away. Yes, it was clear they were close. Or, maybe “bonded” was a better word. She’d had that with Elliette, at least for a few months. Until…
“What is it, Niall?”
No one missed her tone, not even Josh. Dakota ignored all the glances and raised eyebrows and lifted her chin. “Well?”
“Inside.” Niall led the way.
Just inside the door hung a plastic curtain. He pushed it aside and she followed him through with Josh on her heels.
Josh said, “Now I see why you didn’t want Neema in here.” Niall glanced back and Josh said, “Appreciate it.”
Liquid had pooled on the floor, most of it a brown color. Tables stood in two rows. They walked down the middle. On top, crates had been stacked on both sides. Open, empty. Beyond that, half of the right hand row of tables was an elaborate set up of beakers and tubes. She knew basically nothing about chemistry, having long forgotten what she’d learned in high school.
She said, “Maybe they were making moonshine.”
Niall said, “It was medical.”
How he knew that, she had no idea. “Whatever was in here, we’re thinking they took it with them?”
No one disagreed, but until they caught up with the woman and her nephews, the Crampton boys, they weren’t going to know what it was. Or what Clare planned on doing with it.
Sal turned in a circle. “This isn’t saying, ‘slaughterhouse’ to me. Nor is it saying, ‘murder happened here.’”
Niall asked, “So what does it say?”
Dakota wandered farther. All the way to the end of the tables, where a metal barrel had been placed. Maybe muscled in somehow. Too heavy to put on the table.
On the side of the barrel was a sticker.
“Biohazard.”
“Do we need to rush outside?” Josh asked. “I don’t want to get a disease from these hillbillies.”
Dakota wasn’t sure that’s what they were, exactly. She shook her head. They’d have taken different precautions if whatever had been in here was hazardous. No one was that stupid.
She picked up a screwdriver on the floor beside the barrel. Using it on a groove where it’d been opened before, she pried off the lid like a paint tin.
“It’s empty.” She glanced up from her crouch and looked at the team—and Josh. “Whatever was in here, it’s gone now.”
“They took it with them,” Victoria said.
Niall evidently agreed. “That’s what I think, too.”
“So what was it?”
Sal folded his arms. “Nothing good.”
“This changes everything.” Victoria slid a phone from her overcoat pocket. “The item being transported was a biohazard. Maybe they needed medical personnel—or equipment.”
“Like a special truck?” Dakota asked.
She nodded. “I’ll get Talia on it, and we’ll see what she comes up with.”
“You think Mr. and Mrs. Johnson know?” Dakota didn’t have the first clue what militia guys wanted with a biohazard barrel. But there was no way it could be anything good.
“You keep going back to them,” Sal said. “Why?”
Dakota took a second. “I don’t know. I guess I just can’t believe they don’t know what it is. More likely they’re just too scared to tell us.”
He nodded. “I got that from them, too.”
“And maybe they’re the only ones left in town who can tell us.”
Victoria said, “You wanna go talk to them again, I’ll get you a warrant to search their property. This—” She pointed around the room. “—should be enough for probable cause, given they’re possible accomplices.”
Dakota said, “Great. Let’s go then.”
. . .
“You wanna go back to the orchard? Take Agent Weber with you.”
Josh blinked. Dakota didn’t look at him. Not that he expected her to. She’d been strategically ignoring him since she showed up here. Except for staring at him when he’d greeted Neema. To say he didn’t understand her was a serious understatement.
She hadn’t apologized even though she’d essentially kidnapped his dog. He generally tried to go with the flow and not get frustrated with people, but that resolve was getting tested frequently. Especially in the past two days.
Wasn’t she going to ask him how his gunshot wound was doing?
It was like the woman cared about nothing. Not even herself.
And yet, he saw so much feeling left unspoken behind her eyes. There was something about dogs she wasn’t telling him. And the whole Harlem Roberts business. Who was that man to her? No way she didn’t have at least some kind of feeling about that guy. Not the way she’d screamed at him.
And yet, he’d guess if he was to ask her about it, that she’d deny having any feeling at all. Josh was pretty sure she’d just lie to him. Maybe she was even lying to herself. Pretending she felt nothing.
Maybe it was safer that way.
He’d seen guys do that in the Marines. They would stuff down their feelings. Their reactions to the horrific things they saw. Did it help? Josh had found someone to talk to—an older guy at the gun range. A Vietnam vet. Maybe it had helped, he didn’t exactly know. But it was better than walking around a powder keg, primed to explode at any moment.
Dakota backed off from her hushed conversation with Victoria. Jaw set. Hands curled into fists.
Josh folded his arms and waited, watching her flushed cheeks. Color looked good on her. Even with the bruising and the fact one of her eyes was still pretty swollen. He knew better than to allow sympathy to birth the urge to protect her. Dakota Pierce wasn’t a woman who would accept protection—if she knew that’s what you were doing. Still, he couldn’t deny those feelings were there.
He wanted to help her, even now. Even though she’d stranded him by the roadside. That was the part that frustrated him the most. The fact that even despite how she’d treated him, he honestly still wanted to be there for her. Make her weekend easier. Aid the team in solving this case.
When she glanced at him, he lifted one eyebrow. Ready for whatever she was going to say or do next.
“What are you looking at?”
His lips twitched. So, yeah. She knew he found this amusing. And she didn’t agree with the sentiment, that much was plain to see.
Someone snorted.
She swung back around to Victoria. Nothing to encourage whoever had that particular reaction. She ignored it all and said, “I’ll take Sal.”
“You’ll take Agent Weber. The rest of us are going to be busy all day going through the stuff in this compound,” Victoria said. “I’ve called the Spokane FBI office. They’re sending a team of agents to help with evidence collection. I can’t spare anyone, Dakota.”
The implication was clear. If she wanted to check out the orchard again, she was on her own. Josh was the only one who was expendable. That was fine; he was a rookie and an unknown. He didn’t particularly want to root through the personal belongings of a group of anarchists anyway. That wasn’t going to make for a fun day. He would much rather keep moving, go chat with witnesses, and so would Neema.
Josh lifted his chin, as much of a shrug as he could manage with stitches on his shoulder. “We’ll bring back food with us.”
Sal pointed over at him, not lifting his attention from the table in front of him and the equipment he was looking over. “And coffee.”
Josh said, “Copy that.”
Dakota glanced between them.
“Ready?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
Victoria turned to the door, but Josh saw the hint of a smile before she moved out of his field of vision. Her phone rang as she stepped outside.
Dakota moved to where Josh stood. She opened her mouth, said nothing, and closed it. He said, “Your car or mine?”
“Your truck exploded.”
He winced. “Oh yeah.” Shook his head. “Guess I need to go shopping as well. Maybe we can do that while we’re driving through town.”
“You want to buy a car today?”
He wanted to shrug, but knew that wouldn’t be a good idea. The thought of it was enough to send pain shooting through his shoulder. He pressed a hand to the wound and took a breath. “Why not? It’ll be a good distraction. For both of us.”
“We do look like a couple of invalids, don’t we?” She gave him a small smile.
“Sure do.” He was about to make a suggestion about them both needing a nap, but realized how that would sound when it came out of his mouth. Thank You, God. He didn’t need her thinking that he was thinking that.
Except now he was totally thinking that.
Josh cleared his throat. “Ready?”
She held the door for him. Neema trotted over to greet them, despite the fact he’d told her to stay. She went straight for Dakota and licked her hand.
Dakota rubbed under Neema’s chin. “Hi, dog.” Then kept walking.
Like nothing had happened.
Yeah. He did not believe she wasn’t a dog person. People who said that, Josh mostly figured they just hadn’t met the right dog. Dakota had a past that made her wary of dogs, but she liked them. Neema was winning her over.
Josh grinned and petted her, rubbing all the way down her flanks. “You’re such a good dog. Yes, you are. Ready to go?”
Neema leaned back, front paws out straight in front of her, and groaned through the stretch.
“Let’s go.”
She trotted with him to the car and hopped in the back. Dakota handed Josh her keys and spent the whole drive on her email. Probably a good plan.
When they pulled up at the orchard he said, “How do you want to play this?”
“I’ve asked them what they know already.” She frowned, her gaze on the front windows. Then the drive. “Maybe you should come from a different angle. Appeal to their civic duty or something.”
Josh wanted to laugh. Before he could say anything, she had cracked the door handle and was halfway out.
He pulled the handle on his side.
Over the roof of the car she said, “Don’t let Neema out.”
“What—”
“Don’t let her out.” She motioned to the driveway, and he saw it.
“That their dog?”
They both shut their doors and wandered over to the stiff form while Neema barked from inside the car. The dog’s tongue was out, covered in white foam. Neither of them got too close.
“Chest isn’t moving,” Josh said.
They headed for the front door. Both had one hand on the butt of their weapons. Josh closed his other fist and pounded on the front door.
It swung open on its own accord.
A woman lay in the hallway. Angled like she’d slumped to the ground. White stuff had collected on her lips and around her mouth, her face completely pale. Dead.
“That’s Mrs. Johnson.”
Josh hardly knew what to say first. He choked out the word, “Biohazard,” like it was a question.
“If it is,” Dakota said. “Then we’ve been exposed.”
Chapter 15
Exposed. Dakota held the phone out, the call on speakerphone, while her stomach roiled. She’d lived through nights spent in the woods only dressed in her nightgown. Being beaten. Broken bones. Days of no food.
This was what would kill her?
“I can only see Mrs. Johnson.” She glanced again inside the open front door. “I have no idea where the husband is.”
She felt fine. If she had actually been contaminated by whatever had killed Mrs. Johnson she would be feeling the effects by now. Right?
They needed to look in the windows, see if they could see the husband. There was no way she was going to step inside without some kind of protective clothing. She didn’t even have gloves right now. And while she didn’t think it was airborne—more like they’d been poisoned somehow—she wasn’t going to take the risk by touching anything. Or anyone.
Victoria’s voice was clear and strong. No trace of the nervousness moving through Dakota. “How is it that I put up with you when you wind up doubling my workload, every time?”
Dakota almost smiled. Her boss’s humor gave her the focus she needed to push aside her emotions and focus. “We need the CDC, right?”
“I’ll put in a call. The medical examiner is on the way; should be there in a few minutes.”
“And the sheriff?”
“On his way back to town, but he won’t be here before this evening.”
Josh blew out a breath. She’d been mostly ignoring him so far, save for the initial conversation they’d had when they realized the homeowner—and the dog—were dead.
At the end of the drive, the medical examiner’s van pulled in at a crawl and headed toward them.
“The doc is here.”
“Okay,” Victoria said. “Keep me posted.”
The line went dead.
“Not one to waste time with sympathy, is she?” Josh shot her a wry smile.
“Why would we need sympathy?”
“Maybe because we could’ve been exposed.” He frowned. “We could be hours from death, and she’s working through the logistics of getting the CDC here.”
“The CDC is the help we need,” Dakota argued. “They’ve got that whole compound to go through, every scrap of anything left behind. All the places they could’ve hidden something.”
“Okay.” He held up both hands. “You don’t need to bite my head off, just because I don’t get it.”
“What don’t you get? We need help if we’re going to figure this out before whatever happens next. Not her sympathy. Whether that means we end up in body bags is either a given at this point, or something we can continue to prevent.”
“So you do your job not slowed down by silly emotions.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
Josh shot her the weirdest of looks. One she didn’t even know how to decipher. Thankfully, right then, the medical examiner slammed the van door. Dr. Stevens got a duffel out the back and ambled over with raised eyebrows. “I beat the sheriff’s department?”
Dakota met her halfway. “This is a federal investigation. We’re keeping them in the loop and all. At least for now.”
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