Hidden Creed

by Alex Kava

  Chapter 67

  Florida Panhandle

  Creed was halfway home when he got the call from Jason. It’d been a long time since he’d stopped in at the Segway House and played poker with the guys. Benny and Colfax were like family, but he hardly knew Eric and Doc and the handful of other guys who sat in once in a while.

  This would be tough for Jason. He liked Eric Hudson enough to offer one of Scout’s siblings to the man’s little boy. Jason and Hannah had spent a good deal of the last six months learning how to train a diabetic alert dog. Scout’s sister, Sarge, was doing remarkably well, and even Creed thought she would be ready for the job come fall.

  Over the years Creed and Hannah had trained dogs to detect a variety of scents other than the dead and missing. It didn’t take Hannah long to insist they include other scents when she recognized how much of a toll it took on Creed to work too many search and recovery cases. They added drugs and explosives. But they also started training dogs to detect C. diff, a bacterial strain that could be deadly if diagnosed too late.

  Then the Department of Homeland Security asked for their help to sniff out the bird flu. And although they hadn’t trained a medical alert dog before, Creed figured between the three of them, they could train a dog to detect just about anything. He was hoping that was true tonight, and he could add serial killer to the list.

  He hated to admit he was a bit relieved that he’d now be able to implement his plan and not need to lie in order to exclude Jason. Chances are, the kid would be at the hospital well into the night.

  He found Brodie in the clinic. He heard her before he found her. She had dragged the mattress closer to Hank’s kennel, and she was reading to him. Grace and Scout were with her. All of them looked up at Creed like they didn’t appreciate him interrupting the story.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” he told her.

  “No, that’s okay. It’s almost dinner time.”

  “Have you had any luck getting him to eat?” Creed asked.

  The dog had refused everything Creed had offered. Last night Creed had begged, even tried to hand-feed him, and the dog still broke his heart.

  “He ate almost a cup of chicken and rice.” She smiled up at him, knowing it would make him happy. “We all ate together. He watched Grace and Scout enjoying theirs, and he finally decided to join in.”

  “That was a great idea.”

  He should have thought of that, that the dog might like some company. He slung his daypack off his shoulder. He didn’t realize he’d left the zipper open. The black ball cap dropped to the floor.

  “I brought this for Grace,” he said, but as Creed went to grab it off the floor, Hank braced up against the grate of his kennel. His teeth were bared and he was growling. Growling viciously at the ball cap.

  “Hank, it’s okay, buddy.”

  “Wow! I haven’t seen him do anything like that.” Brodie had jumped to her feet.

  “I’m putting it away,” he showed the dog as he scooped it up and shoved it into the pack. Then he took the daypack out of the room, down the hallway and left it in the office.

  Hank had just confirmed that the ball cap belonged to someone he didn’t like. It had to be the killer's.

  Creed came back to the room, and Brodie was talking to the dog. He’d settled down but his eyes rolled to check out Ryder in the doorway.

  “Brodie, would you do me another big favor and check in on him tonight?”

  “Sure. You and Maggie finally going on that date?”

  “No, but Grace and I have something we need to do.”

  He couldn’t lie to her. It was the one thing she’d asked of him. But he also wouldn’t tell her his plans.

  “Is Jason back yet?” she asked.

  “No. He might be late. A friend of his is in the hospital.”

  “Okay. I’ll take Scout back to the house with me.”

  Jason was right. Brodie was certainly getting an initiation into their business and their lives. He hoped it wasn’t too much for her. He kept reminding himself that PTSD could rear its ugly head with little warning. He sure hoped he wasn’t missing a warning.

  “Hey, Ryder. If we end up keeping Hank can he sleep in my room?”

  He realized he hadn’t told any of them what he’d learned about Hank’s owner. “Sure,” he said. “I’m curious. You can have any dog in the kennel, why Hank?”

  “Did you see how scary he looked and sounded? Nobody’s going to sneak into my room if he’s there.”

  Creed felt his jaw clench, reminding him how important it was to catch this guy.

  Then Brodie added, “Besides, he really seems to like when I read to him. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

  Chapter 68

  Pensacola Beach

  Taylor didn’t expect him to answer, let alone on the second ring.

  “I’m a little busy here,” Derrick told her.

  “You bastard,” she didn’t even try to restrain her anger.

  “What exactly has your panties in a twist?” he laughed.

  She was sitting next to the balcony’s sliding glass door high above the crowded beach. Storm clouds were in the distance threatening to snuff out the setting sun. Instead of letting the emerald green waves soothe her, Taylor focused on the storm clouds.

  “Why didn’t you just let him go home to Virginia?”

  “Ahh...the persistent Mr. Lockett. I know his type. He would have come back eventually.”

  She wanted to adjust the earbud but settled for pushing back a lock of hair. Her fingers were trembling. It took a concentrated effort to keep her breathing from becoming a gasp for air.

  “So you had to kill him?”

  She was surprised when Maggie told her Lockett had been shot. She remembered in Afghanistan how bad of a shot Derrick was. He didn’t think he should have to carry a gun. His surgical fingers were too valuable to be pulling triggers. Others were expected to protect him.

  “Didn’t I tell you that you needed to keep your mind on getting your son back? Wait a minute.”

  Taylor heard his tone change, and her entire body tensed.

  “Where the hell are you?” He was angry. “You are such a whore! I can’t believe you took that Army Ranger next door to a hotel. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What are you talking about, Derrick? How could you possibly know where I am right this minute?”

  He went quiet, and Taylor worried he’d ended the call.

  “Derrick? You’re tracking my phone, aren’t you?”

  “I guess it didn’t take long for you to forget your valiant Mr. Lockett. Convenient for you that I got rid of him. Well, screw your Ranger boy’s brains out. He’ll be dead tomorrow. Oh, and don’t expect to see your precious son any time soon.”

  This time, he did hang up.

  She was shaking all over when she pulled the earbud out and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “You did good,” Maggie told her.

  Taylor glanced up at her. The woman had the other earbud from Taylor’s pair in her ear. She also had Taylor’s cell phone in her hands and was still doing something with it.

  “Antonio, did you get it?” she was asking someone who was still on the line. “Great. Don’t spook him until we know we’ve got him.”

  Taylor stared out the hotel’s sliding glass door. Maggie’s room was on the sixth floor. She thought her studio apartment’s view over the marina was beautiful, but this was gorgeous. And yet, she felt...exhausted. So completely drained. A little bit scared. And a tremendous sense of loss. She’d just thrown away her one chance to be a part of William’s life. Derrick would see to it. He already had such an influence over William’s grandparents. Now, he would make sure they thought she was a drunken whore.

  Maggie handed her a glass of water. She pulled up a second chair alongside Taylor’s. She positioned it so that she was facing the Gulf view and so Taylor didn’t have to look the woman in her eyes.

  �
�What did he mean about your son?” Maggie asked.

  Taylor had told her about working alongside Derrick in Afghanistan. He was older, always wiser and so charming. He was their surgical team’s rock. You wanted him in a crisis.

  Stateside, they’d gone their separate ways, but somehow, he managed to keep his hold on her over the years. He was married. He was always married, several times over. And he wasn’t interested in Taylor as a wife even if she didn’t constantly rebuff him. Taylor didn’t have the pedigree to be his wife. But he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anyone else to have her.

  “Years ago he talked me into giving my son up,” she told Maggie now. “My husband, Mike, was killed in Afghanistan before William was born. Derrick knows Mike’s father. They’re on the same boards and belong to the same country club.”

  Taylor sipped the water and noticed her hands weren’t shaking anymore.

  “I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn’t realize that they wouldn’t let me be a part of his life. I think Derrick told them things. Some of them true. Some of them not.

  “Then out of the blue, he called me and said that if I cleaned up my act, he thought he might be able to change their minds. He convinced me to move down here. Got me a job at Baptist Hospital. That was weeks ago, and I still haven’t seen William.”

  They were quiet for a long time then Maggie said, “If he killed John Lockett he’s going away for a long time. William’s grandparents will certainly see Derrick isn’t the stand-up guy he pretends to be.”

  “Will they? Or will he just convince them this was my fault? That somehow I manipulated yet another man.”

  Chapter 69

  Blackwater River State Forest

  Creed didn’t wait for dark.

  He called CSU tech, Hadley and had gotten no response. No call back either. So Creed left another message asking Hadley to warn the sheriff’s deputies that he was coming into the crime scene. Once he was in the forest, he couldn’t count on having a cell phone signal. Hadley had been there earlier in the day, but he and the day shift would have left hours ago, replaced by the night shift deputies.

  Grace needed very little time with the black ball cap. Creed had decided he’d start where the man was last seen on their property, but before he could guide Grace, she was already headed for the fieldhouse. As they entered the forest, he attached a leash to Grace’s new vest.

  The vest was a bit heavier than she was used to wearing. He’d slid a couple of thin ice packs inside the vest’s pockets along with a GPS device that matched the one in his daypack. If nothing else, he would make sure that they kept track of each other.

  Creed knew the man had used this path at least twice: last night and then again in the morning to leave the garbage bag with the tainted steaks. The trail was tamped down. Branches broken. Some cut. Vines ripped away and left on top of bushes.

  When they left, storm clouds gathered in the distance bringing nightfall sooner than expected. Inside the forest it was already dark. The extra gear weighed Creed down, and his skin was quickly slick with sweat. He had traded his ball cap for the helmet Benny had provided. The mini-rail held the thermal imaging camera off to his right side. He glanced up at it trying to get used to the dancing colors.

  He saw a red mass up ahead and stopped dead in his tracks. One tug at Grace’s leash got her to stop. They stood stock-still. Though it hardly mattered how quiet they were. The creatures had already begun their calls and whirs and barks. He’d forgotten how loud the middle of the woods could be after dark.

  Creed’s fingers inched to his utility belt. There was enough twilight to see shadows. His night vision goggles dangled around his neck. They wouldn’t help determine what this heat source was hiding in the bushes.

  Grace was watching exactly where the thermal image was lighting up. She didn’t strain or whine or seem at all concerned. If anything she looked a bit impatient.

  Creed saw the red mass jerk across the camera screen before he saw the raccoon run from the bushes.

  Grace looked up at him. He released a long breath, and she wagged as if to tell him she knew it was no big deal.

  He shook his head and reminded himself he needed to trust his dog. All this cool equipment couldn’t replace Grace’s nose.

  They hadn’t gone far, and Creed recognized the killer’s path was taking them to the crime scene. So the man had been sneaking back and forth. Although the deputies seemed to be unaware. When he warned Hadley, the tech said the deputies hadn’t seen any signs of anyone else in the forest. And yet, their boat had been taken and damaged.

  They already suspected this guy knew his way around the forest, but Creed wondered if the man had special ops training of some kind. Or was it simply dumb luck? Either way, Creed would need to be better prepared than letting a raccoon startle him.

  He caught a glimpse of one of his surveyor flags that he had left a couple days ago. They were just on the outskirts of the crime scene. He was about to call out and alert the deputies when Grace stopped. She sniffed the air. Circled twice. He held the leash so she wouldn’t get tangled. She glanced up above him then met his eyes.

  Creed tilted his head, but his eyes stayed on the thermal image screen. There was no vibrant pulsating red. No movement in the canopy overhead.

  He looked down at Grace. Her nose was back to poking the air. Her front paws shifted. She was ready to continue. This time when she glanced up, Creed slipped on the night vision goggles and tracked exactly where she was looking.

  He kept his feet planted, but his stomach dropped to his knees. Even hanging upside down and tinged in the green light, Creed recognized Deputy Danvers.

  Chapter 70

  Creed put a finger to his lips, and Grace stood still.

  His heart pounded too hard. Not far away an owl screeched. A chorus of tree frogs competed with the tick-tick-tick-whir and a round of hisses.

  He tried to slow his racing pulse as he kept his feet from moving. The thermal imaging screen followed the movement of his head as he swiveled it as far as he could. First to the right then to the left. He tilted the helmet back and searched the treetops.

  A few small blips. Even Danvers registered as a glob of pink and yellow, no red. Creed had no idea how long it took for a body to cool, but he suspected if Danvers was dead, it was likely his partner was too.

  He thought it looked like fishing line tied around the deputy’s neck, over and over again. Some of Danvers’ fingers were stuck inside the line. It wasn’t the only sign of the man’s panic and last efforts to breathe.

  Creed tried to listen over the night sounds. It was impossible. He watched Grace, instead. He nodded for her to continue, but he wrapped her leash tighter around his wrist, giving her less lead and forcing her to stay close at his feet.

  The medical examiner had asked him what he’d do if his dog did, in fact, take him to the killer. Jason, Benny and Colfax had spent a good deal of time talking about snares and sniper nests. They outlined how one of them could flush the killer out and send him directly into the other one’s hands.

  Creed figured he had the element of surprise on his side. That, a canister of UDAP pepper spray and a Ruger .38 Special +P revolver. Years ago he’d bought the lightweight pistol because it could slip into his daypack easily. It was hammerless, compact and fit in the palm of his hand. He liked that the short barrel made it difficult for an opponent to grab it. And yet, it was effective in close-quarter conflicts.

  Originally, Creed bought the gun to protect his dogs. But UDAP pepper spray worked better against a bear or cougar. He figured the spray would work against a serial killer, too. That’s why the pistol was still in his daypack while the fingers of his right hand were ready to grab the pepper spray canister on his utility belt.

  The guy expected the deputies. He had obviously watched them, maneuvered around them, and in the end, tricked them. Creed couldn’t help wondering if Danvers had even seen the guy coming.

  He was beginning to think Grace was ta
king him on a wild goose chase. Instead of taking him farther inside the crime scene perimeter she was leading him back deeper into the forest. In the opposite direction of the sandbar and Coldwater Creek.

  Trust your dog, he kept telling himself as he kept one eye on the thermal imaging screen.

  When Grace turned, he knew they were circling back. He realized the killer’s scent could be all over these paths if the man had gone back and forth for the last several days.

  Creed was starting to get acclimated to the symphony of creatures. He could tell when a new voice joined the night air. But would he recognize if there were noises that didn’t belong?

  Then Grace came to an abrupt halt.

  Sometimes the humidity in the forest got so thick the moisture dripped from the leaves. Creed heard the drip-drip hit his helmet just as he noticed Grace tilt her head back. He smelled it as he side-stepped out of the way.

  Up above was the second deputy.

  In the green tint Creed saw the gash in his neck still dripping. Rope was used. One end tied to the trunk, looped over a branch as a pulley with the other end tied around the deputy’s waist so he hung over them like he was flying.

  Creed forced himself to take deep breaths. His pulse raced again. The humid air was oppressive, and the tang of blood only made it harder to breathe.

  This guy was losing it. With both deputies dead, what was next? Had he and Grace missed him?

  Then a thought slammed into Creed. What if he was headed to Creed’s property?

  Before he could react, he suddenly smelled something else. A scent that definitely didn’t belong in the forest.

  Cigarette smoke.

  Chapter 71

  Creed didn’t need to check the thermal imaging screen. He could see the man clearly with his night vision goggles. He was surprised that he recognized him. Surprised but relieved.

  He pulled off the goggles and dropped them to dangle at his neck. Emotion runs down the leash. Even Grace knew she could relax. Creed stepped out from behind the trees and the man stumbled backwards.