Hidden Creed

by Alex Kava

  They weren’t far from the scene and Brodie tried to slow Grace down. She could hear men’s voices. Too many night creatures drowned them out. Brodie didn’t recognize either of the voices as Ryder’s. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. They seemed to be arguing. Could it be the deputies?

  As she stood completely still, she tried to watch Grace and Scout. It was dark. She squatted to be closer to them. Touching their backs to keep them in place.

  Then suddenly there was a swoosh, and the forest lit up in front of them. Bright red and yellow flames.

  Chapter 77

  Creed was now on his back. It seemed to help the nausea. He closed his eyes. It took all his strength to peel the goggles off his face. He thought they might be the reason for the swirling feeling and the bright colors, remembering the thermal imaging screen. But even with the goggles off, the colors were still there skewing his vision and making him more confused than ever.

  He’d gone from clammy and cold to hot. The heat felt like it would scorch off his skin. Flames licked at the treetops. They couldn’t be real. But the heat was.

  He rolled back onto his stomach. The pain in his chest had disappeared, but he still couldn’t climb to his feet. Instead he crawled using his elbows to pull the rest of his body. It took a tremendous amount of energy to move only inches.

  When he saw the big, black dog Creed was certain he was hallucinating. Maybe all of this was a dream. Was that possible?

  The dog licked his face, and the wet slobber felt wonderful. Another lick from the other side.

  Grace!

  He had told her to go home. She shouldn’t be here. And somehow, she’d brought Scout with her.

  “Ryder, are you okay? Can you stand?”

  Someone was trying to pull him up. Nothing seemed to work.

  “Are you hurt?”

  He could see Brodie was yelling at him, and yet, he could barely hear her.

  She grabbed at his arms.

  “Brodie? You can’t be here. Take the dogs. Go. Please just go.”

  Then suddenly, she disappeared from his view.

  He couldn’t see the dogs anymore either.

  He had trained them too well.

  And now, they were gone.

  Chapter 78

  Something was wrong with Ryder, but Brodie couldn’t figure it out. On the back of his head, his hair was matted with blood, but he wasn’t bleeding anymore. Even as he spoke, every word seemed to be an effort.

  The fire was getting closer. She needed to move him. There was no way she could drag him using the path to get back home. She wasn’t strong enough, and there were too many obstacles. The flames would surely devour them.

  She started to gather up one of the tarps the investigators had left over one of the graves. The stakes were hard to pull up. There were bungee cords attached on one side of the tarp stretching it like a tent. The cords were looped through rings in the tarp and took forever for Brodie’s fingers to pull them free.

  Then she realized they might come in handy.

  Grace went back to Ryder. It looked like she was walking around and sniffing him, from head to toe. Scout stayed with Brodie, interested in the bungee cords.

  The flames gave her plenty of light. There was a supernatural flickering and an earsplitting crackle that made her fingers work faster. She assembled a makeshift harness out of the shorter bungee cords and looped them around Scout’s broad chest.

  “You’re going to have to help me, Scout.”

  Brodie grabbed two of the longer bungee cords and dragged the tarp back to Ryder. Now she had to get him onto the thing.

  She stretched out the tarp right next to him. Before she reached out for his arms, she saw Grace sniffing his shirtsleeve. He wore them uncuffed and rolled up. They fell to mid-arm to protect him from bugs and thorny bushes. But Grace didn’t appear interested in his shirt as much as what was under the sleeve.

  Then suddenly, Grace did something that Brodie had seen her do during training sessions and at the crime scene. She sat and stared up at Brodie.

  The dog was alerting.

  At first Brodie didn’t understand. Was Ryder bleeding? It wasn’t soaking through his shirt.

  Then it hit her. Grace could detect different scents including explosives and drugs.

  Brodie dropped to her knees and pushed Ryder’s sleeve up over his elbow. Attached to the back of his arm was a square patch. She pushed up the other sleeve to find two more patches. She ran her hands over the rest of his arms and his torso searching for more.

  Grace was alerting to the drugs in the patches. Brodie remembered the garbage bag Scout had found. She made the dogs step back. She ordered them five feet away and told them to stay.

  With a glance, she could see the flames dancing between the trees, less than a hundred feet away. Her mind was racing. She couldn’t think. She could hardly breathe.

  Ryder’s daypack was still on his back. She threaded it off of him. She zipped open pockets. Found one of his rolled-up T-shirts, wrapped it around her nose and mouth then tied it at the back of her neck.

  In another pocket she found latex gloves, two sizes too big for her. She tugged one up over her sweaty palm. Carefully she ripped off the patches, folding each one to stick to itself. She wrapped the wad of patches into the palm of her latex glove as she pulled it off around them.

  She still wasn’t sure what to do with them. She was wasting time, but she remembered Scout’s reaction from finding the torn garbage bag. In one of the daypack pockets she found some Ziploc bags. Again, she made sure the glove was tightly wrapped around the patches then she stuffed them into the plastic bag and into a pocket of the daypack.

  Now, she needed to dig for the antidote.

  It was a small pouch. Both Ryder and Jason carried them.

  Finally, her fingers found it. But as she opened it she wasn’t sure what to do. Jason had said there was a short window of opportunity. Was it the same for people?

  She rolled Ryder from his side to his back. His eyes fluttered at her. He choked on the smoke.

  “Brodie, what are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing her for the first time.

  She tried to remember how Jason held the container, and she pinched it between her thumb and forefinger the same way he did.

  “Stay still,” she told him as she held his forehead down and inserted the tip into his nose. One steady push until it was all gone.

  Ryder’s eyes fluttered again, startled then flew open. He was alarmed, but he obeyed.

  A second dose won’t harm him. Brodie remembered Vickie’s words.

  All handlers carried two.

  She ripped open the second and stuck it up his other nostril. Pushed the plunger, one even motion.

  She started to pull on his shoulder to roll him over and onto the tarp. Ryder wouldn’t budge. She realized his daypack was in the way.

  Now she was struggling. It was getting harder to breathe.

  “Well, well,” she heard a man’s voice behind her. “What do we have here?”

  Still on her knees, Brodie turned to look at the man. His clothes were sooty. One arm hung limp at his side. He had a small gun pointing at Brodie’s head.

  “I thought I already killed this guy, but it looks like he has his own rescue team.”

  She glanced at Scout and Grace then immediately regretted it. The man swung the gun in the dogs’ direction.

  “No!” she screamed.

  The two gunshots blasted through the air.

  Scout and Grace dropped to their bellies. Brodie didn’t know what had happened until she saw the man fall to his knees. Then he collapsed face first.

  She twisted around to see Ryder with a gun. He braced himself up on one elbow. He tried to sit up.

  “Don’t,” Brodie told him. “Don’t push it.”

  She looked back at the dogs. Both were still in “dog down” position. She gestured for them to come to her, and they raced over.

  She turned to see Ryder tuck
ing the gun into his pack. Awkwardly, he attempted to lift himself onto the tarp. She helped him, shifting his legs one at a time.

  She wrapped the tarp up around him and strapped him in with the remaining bungee cords. The smoke was making it difficult to breathe. She fell to her knees twice, coughing and fighting for air.

  Somehow Scout knew exactly what she wanted from him. And so did Grace. She led the way. Brodie hadn’t given the little dog any directions. She was relying completely on Grace’s survival instinct.

  With the flames close behind, Scout and Brodie pulled the tarp. She cringed every time Ryder’s body bounced over the gnarled roots and jutting rocks or snagged on fallen debris. At the last minute, she’d stuck one of his extra T-shirts rolled up under his head.

  Finally, she could see the tree line ending. They skidded out onto a sandy beach. There in front of them was Coldwater Creek. Brodie could already feel the cool air blowing toward them off the water.

  She could now see the sky, too. Black and churning, lightning pulsed from inside the storm clouds. She’d never been so happy to hear the crash of thunder. Within seconds came the downpour.

  Brodie hugged the dogs close to her, one on each side. Grace twisted out of her hold and raced to the other end of the rolled-up tarp. Brodie could hear Ryder choking.

  Panic set in again. She tugged at the cords then ripped and pulled. Grace and Scout both helped, biting and pulling corners of the tarp.

  Finally they had him unwrapped enough, and Ryder pushed himself up onto his elbows. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes and let the rain wash over him.

  Brodie searched his face watching for some indication that he was okay. When he opened his eyes they seemed more focused. Grace licked his face. Scout came to his other side and head-butted his shoulder.

  Ryder sat up slowly and petted the dogs while his eyes found Brodie’s.

  Then he said, “That was one hell of a ride.”

  “Get ready for another,” she told him, “because we’re going to steal that boat.”

  Chapter 79

  Blackwater River State Forest

  Udie cursed at the rain. Too many distractions had delayed him. He had expected to be finished and back home in bed by now.

  Things had been going exactly the way he planned. Actually, the deputies had been easier than he’d expected. Each of them had been like a lamb walking into a wolf’s den. It couldn’t have gone smoother. And now any evidence of their bodies would be burned along with that dog handler.

  He’d left Derrick to fend for himself. At first Udie had been angry that he hadn’t trusted him to take care of things. Then he found himself embarrassed of the man. He appeared weak and helpless. The guy had a gun, and he still managed to be overpowered by the man he shot. Got his arm broken.

  Udie had looked up to Derrick. He thought he wanted to be just like him. A military guy. A surgeon with a fancy house and pretty wife. Udie wanted to have all the money and toys and prestige he had accumulated. Udie figured he deserved it. Deserved to be the man’s partner. After he’d discovered that Derrick Winslow was his father, he figured all he had to do was prove himself worthy, and the man would...what? Embrace him? Love him?

  All this time he knew Udie was his son. He knew!

  Udie wiped the sweat from his face, out of his eyes. It didn’t matter. He didn’t need a father. Certainly not one as incompetent as this guy. All the whining. And the fancy leather shoes in the middle of the forest. How lame.

  Udie shook his head. He was over it. He didn’t even care what the guy said or did. Udie had stashed away all the cash he’d been paid every time he dumped a body for the guy. It added up over the years. Maybe he’d pick up and leave. His mother was gone. His father was an embarrassment. He didn’t have any reason to stay. Maybe he’d move down to Tampa. Go watch his Buccaneers.

  But there was something he needed to do now that the rain had started and the winds had shifted. His beautiful, roaring fire was dying out behind him even as he made his way to the ridge. It would never reach the dog handler’s property.

  No, he’d have to start a fire inside one of the buildings.

  He had left just enough gasoline in the can. By the time he slid down the final stretch, he was soaked to the bone, which only made him angrier. In Udie’s mind, the woman and the man and all those dogs had ruined everything for him. If it hadn’t been for them stumbling onto his sacred dumping grounds, none of this would have happened.

  He hesitated at the corner of the woods. The big house at the far end of the property was the only building with lights, and it looked like every single one was turned on. Several vehicles were parked in front of the house, but there was no one outside. He searched for movement behind the windows and couldn’t see through the curtains.

  He remembered where the motion lights were and stepped carefully trying to avoid tripping them. If he slid along the side of the buildings, he knew the lights weren’t tilted close enough. He could do this, building by building until he got to the one that housed the dogs.

  Protected under the eaves, the rain didn’t pound him as much. It seemed to be easing up. The thunder rumbled instead of crashed. Lightning still flickered.

  Udie slid around another corner. He jerked back startled to find the barrel of a shotgun pointing directly at his face. The black woman was dressed in a dark rain jacket, with the hood pulled up over her head.

  He knew he was fast. He thought about diving back around the corner when she told him, “I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

  He did it anyway.

  He stumbled and ran into another gun. This one held by a black mechanical hand.

  “We’ve been watching you on the cameras, asshole,” the amputee dog handler said to him.

  He waved his other hand and triggered the motion sensor then pointed to the small camera snug under the eaves. Udie hadn’t even noticed it before.

  “Hey, I know you,” the man said. “From the Segway House. You’re the cleanup guy.”

  Chapter 80

  Santa Rosa County Sheriff’s Office

  Milton, Florida

  Saturday, June 20

  Maggie was still gathering bits and pieces of information. Her cell phone rang even as she parked for her appointment. She checked the caller I.D., glanced at the time then left the motor running and the air conditioning blasting as she took the call.

  “Antonio, you know it’s Saturday, right?”

  “Weekends are the best time to hack into computer systems.”

  “I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.” She was anxious to find out what he’d learned.

  “Looks like our Dr. Derrick Winslow was a very naughty boy,” Alonzo had his own flare for telling a story. “I started with that dead veteran you found in the forest, Simon Perry. He signed up for a special drug rehab program Doc started at Recovery Gardens for veterans without families. Very generous, right?

  “It turns out Doc had Simon list him as his only contact. Also convinced him to sign over his bank account while Simon was in rehab, so he couldn’t skip out of the program. It was for Simon’s own good. Problem was, Doc pronounced him better and released him late last week.”

  “And we found him in the forest on Monday,” Maggie said. “Judging by the decomp and all the maggots, he may have gone from the rehab center directly to the forest.”

  “What’s interesting is that Simon transferred money out of his bank account as recently as Tuesday afternoon.”

  “Winslow couldn’t have been reckless enough to transfer money directly to himself?”

  “Oh no,” Alonzo told her. “He had creative ways to reroute it. He never expected someone like me tracking his cyber footprints. Looks like he’s done the same thing with other veterans he admitted into his rehab program.”

  “How do you know that?” Maggie asked.

  “I managed to get a list of them for the last two years. I just started checking, but so far, I have three others who left Recovery Gardens and seem to ha
ve disappeared. No one has seen them. There’s been no credit card activity since they left. I can’t find cell phone numbers or social media accounts in their names. But they are, however, still collecting their veterans’ benefits.”

  “And let me guest, they’re transferred through the same routing system as Simon’s.”

  “You got it.”

  “So this was all about money?”

  “Greed is one of the oldest reasons in the world for murder,” Alonzo reminded her.

  “But Winslow was a prominent surgeon.”

  “One carrying a whole lot of debt. He’s started businesses, or he’s been a partner in one or two that have gone bankrupt. One was a pretty successful reconstructive and cosmetic surgical center. Oh and remember UnitedBio? You were right. It was a short-lived company that provided organs and tissue samples for research labs. Winslow was a partner. That one closed suddenly when there were inquiries as to where and how they were obtaining the organs and tissue samples.”

  Maggie remembered the stacks of containers in the storage unit that had labels with UnitedBio on them.

  “Didn’t you tell me the only contact they had for Unit B12 was a phone number at Recovery Gardens?”

  “That’s right. But it was disconnected about two years ago.”

  “Why would Winslow allow the lease to run out and have all that stuff discovered?”

  “Maybe at that point he didn’t care,” Alonzo said.

  “Or maybe he didn’t know.”

  “Now you’ve lost me.”

  “Didn’t you say the number was for housekeeping?”

  She heard him tapping keys before he said, “Yup, that’s right.”

  “From everything else I’m finding out, Winslow liked to have someone clean up after him.”

  “A shame we can’t ask him. This guy sounds like a piece of work.”

  Maggie had been getting regular updates from Vickie, the investigators and the recovery crew in the forest. One of the bodies had already been identified as Dr. Winslow’s, so the man would never be held responsible for his crimes.