by C. K. Raggio
“Let’s go.” Hill led them out the back door.
They hustled past the center and through a field. A three-car garage sat flush against the tree line. Around the back, Phil pulled a padlock off two brown and green doors leading underground. Two SWAT members opened them. The doors creaked apart and dropped wide with a thud.
What would they find down there? If he knew they’d be coming for him, would he set a trap for them? Did he leave a dog behind?
Single file, they moved down the cellar's concrete steps.
“Same shit as last time,” Phil said. “You know this guy is laughing at us.” He started to fiddle with the lock and a red light blared and blinked over their heads. “Same alarm set up as Gary’s place. Dave White said his father’s cell started ringing like crazy about the time we were breaking into Gary’s storm cellar. A text message that said intruder over and over. Dave had to shut the damn thing off to stop it.”
Hill shifted his weight, sucked in his gut in the tight space. “So this guy knows exactly where we are and what we’re doing? Great. We better be ready for anything. Who knows if he decided to leave any gifts behind for us.”
Phil entered the same code he’d figured out at Gary’s center into the white keyboard on the door. It swung open, making everybody jump and raise their guns.
Flashlight beams bobbed along the interior.
Everything seemed quiet. A steady humming came from an old industrial refrigerator along the wall. Cassie’s heart hammered. These dogs were so well trained they could very well be hiding until you got close enough for them to leap at you.
Hill flicked on a wall switch. Dim fluorescent light from the low ceiling flashed on. Empty shelves stood in the back of the basement. A fight-pit, and rows of crates and kennels. “Let’s get a shit-load of floodlights down here, pronto.”
A SWAT guy raced back up the stairs.
They split up to check everything out. A scratching sound caught Cassie’s attention. She crept toward the back of the room. Something whined. The noise came from the darkened far corner, behind the kennels.
Nobody else seemed to hear it. She held her gun low and steady. More officers and crime scene technicians filed down the stairs. Cameras flashed. Hill and Rick discussed the empty shelves. Phil commented on all the medical supplies Josh must have taken with him. Cassie trained her light on what looked to be a small dog crate, hidden under blankets.
More scratching.
Cassie aimed her pistol and tossed the heavy blanket aside. A small black dog blinked into the beam of light shining into its face.
Full food and water dishes were attached to the wire door. A small puddle of urine in the back.
The dog scurried backward, tail tucked, body shaking. Cassie cooed to it and the dog rolled over, exposing its speckled belly. It didn’t look or act like one of Steven’s man-eaters. Then again, he could’ve trained it to play nice and then go for the jugular.
An index card sat in a metal holder on the side of the cage. She squatted down to read it.
My name is Peggy. “Josh, you sick fuck,” she whispered, grabbing the card and reading over the small, neat script under Special Instructions.
Cassandra, this one is for you. She has bitten kids, but they most likely deserved it. Go slow, I know you’ll take good care of her until I can come back to get her.
Steven Bailey
First he tried to kill her, now he was giving her a puppy. She read the last seven words again. Little did he know that she would find him first. He was admitting his real name now at least. She turned the card over.
PS: By the way, have you spoken to your Daddy lately?
Cassie’s heart seemed to stop beating and then jump started, pounding against her chest. Her mouth went dry. “No! He wouldn’t!”
The card slipped from her fingers as she ran for the stairs.
CHAPTER 37
Cassie dialed her father’s number, her heart in her throat. Her legs shook as she took the stairs two at a time. “Please be okay, please be okay.”
It went right to voicemail. “You’ve reached John Logan. Leave your name and your number…”
She hung up and hit redial. He always picked up his phone, unless he was at her house and wasn’t getting service. Panic ripped at her insides. She raced past officers who shot her dirty looks as she dodged around evidence flags.
Where was her Jeep? Shit. She didn’t drive here. Think, think.
She ran down the street, stumbled. Her feet suddenly felt too big, her legs too long and gangly. Hank’s black sedan sat along the curb. He always left his keys in the car.
She opened the car door. Before she could climb inside, hands grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. She balled her fist, ready to punch whoever tried to stop her.
Rick caught her punch and wrenched her arms down to her sides. Concern lined his face. “What the hell is going on?”
She choked back a sob as Phil and Hank ran up. “He’s after my Dad.”
“I’m driving.” Rick slid around her into the driver’s seat. Cassie hopped in. Hank and Phil, hearing everything, joined them, sliding into the back seat.
“Keys are in the console,” Hank said.
They slammed their doors just as Rick punched the gas.
“My house.” Cassie kept trying her father’s phone. It went to voicemail each time. The sound of his voice brought tears to her eyes.
“Sam,” Phil’s words came out in a rush into his cell. “You’re on speaker.”
“Phil?” Sam’s voice cracked. “Is Cassie –”
“No, I’m here, Sam.” Was her father with him? “I’m okay, it’s Dad. Is he with you? I think he went after Dad.” Thoughts of what Steven did to Kurt Mason shattered any control she had left. She broke down, sobbing into her hands.
“What?” Sam yelled. “How do you know that? Fuck! I’ve been trying to call him. He said he’d be at your place. He was going to call me once you got home.”
“Where are you, Sam?” Phil asked.
“About thirty minutes from Cassie’s.”
“We’re fifteen. We’ll meet you there.”
“Okay, Cass, you there?” Sam’s voice stayed steady over her anguished cries.
“Oh, my God, Sam. He got Dad.”
“Cass, listen to me, sweetie. I need you to be strong and be smart. If something happens to you because you’re not thinking… your father will never forgive you. You’re all we… he has. Phil, you still there?”
“Yeah, Sam.”
Sam’s voice pleaded through the speaker. “Guard her with your life. I’ll – ” The phone dropped the call as they headed over the bridge.
“Damn phone reception.” Cassie slammed her fist into the dashboard. What if Steven mutilated her father like he’d done to Kurt? She shook her head, trying to clear the image of Kurt tied naked, bloody and broken. No. She couldn’t, wouldn’t think of her father’s life ending that way. They had to get there, find him working on the boat, watching the hockey game on TV. They just had to.
How long ago had Steven written that note? Before he abducted Lucy or after? Had this been his plan the whole time? She wanted to tell Rick to go faster. The wind whipped across the bridge, pushing the car across two lanes.
She braced her hand against the door. Phil and Hank cursed in the backseat. A glance at the speedometer showed it pinned at 120. Rick was driving as fast as he could. Almost there. Come on. Come on.
Ten minutes later, they screeched to a stop in her driveway, spraying gravel and a cloud of dust. The front door to her house stood wide open, the lights on. She leapt from the car. A trail of blood led from the door onto the porch. “Oh, God.” Her insides felt like mush.
“Cassie! Wait!”
She held back the urge to yell for her father. She unholstered her gun. A glance over her shoulder showed the men had done the same. Rick nodded. She took a step forward and stopped in the doorway.
Blood splattered the walls and cabinets in the kitchen. Lamps we
re knocked over in the living room, shattered glass spread across the floor. Cassie’s limbs weakened and she gripped the counter. They were too late.
“FBI,” Rick called out. “Mr. Logan?”
A low growl rumbled from the hallway. Pure adrenaline propelled Cassie toward the sound, her gun shaking in her hands. She hesitated before rounding an upturned wrought iron side table. Cassie kept her finger on the trigger ready to blow one of Steven’s dogs right to hell.
She took a breath and looked around the corner. “Snow?”
Snow whined. Her face blood-soaked. She struggled to crawl a few inches on her stomach, yelping the whole way. Her left ear was missing. Her whole right side and front leg looked like raw hamburger.
Cassie’s gut twisted, her throat convulsed. She ran forward and fell on her knees, laying a hand on the dog’s head. “It’s okay, baby. Where’s Dad? Huh, where is he? Dad!”
Rick stepped around her and moved down the hall.
Cassie looked over her shoulder. “Phil, take care of her.” She raised her gun to cover Rick’s back. They followed Snow’s trail of blood into the guest bedroom. Rick nodded and she flipped the light switch.
A large tan dog lay motionless at the foot of the bed, its throat shredded. Chunks of flesh hung off its muscular body. The window stood wide open, the smell of the bay overpowering the smell of death.
Snow had done what she’d originally been trained to do. What Steven had meticulously rehabilitated her not to do. She fought, and she’d won.
“Dad,” Cassie yelled again. She ran from the room, threw a glance at Phil and Hank as they lifted Snow into their arms.
Cassie's pulse pounded in her ears. She tripped and jammed her finger. Ignoring the pain, she searched her room and the bathroom. Both untouched. She hurried back to the living room. Did Steven take her father with him?
Phil stepped out the front door with Snow in his arms. “Easy, girl. Easy.”
Snow squirmed, whimpering, and tried to leap from Phil’s arms.
He placed her down. She struggled onto three legs, dragging her mutilated front leg along the porch. Phil glanced back at Cassie and they both rushed after the dog. At the corner of the porch Snow fell to the ground.
Phil squatted next to her. He glanced around the corner of the house and yelled, jumping to his feet.
Cassie sprinted after him. A figure lay crumbled on the dock. She recognized the blue winter coat and matching hat.
No!
Blood pooled under his head. Phil pushed her father onto his back and checked for a pulse as Cassie came up beside him. “Phil, please, tell me.” She held her breath.
He put his ear to her father’s mouth. His eyes flickered over his chest. He exhaled with a grin. “Heartbeat is strong and steady. I think he’s okay, Cass. Hank,” he yelled over his shoulder. “Call an ambulance.”
“It’s already on its way,” Hank said, throwing a blanket over her father’s still form.
“Daddy,” Cassie whispered, placing a hand on his cheek. “Dad?”
“He’s got a gash on his head,” Phil said, checking him over. “Looks like it stopped bleeding.”
“Dad, please, wake up,” Cassie cried.
Her father stirred. His lids fluttered open. He squinted at her. “Cassie? What are-are you doing here? What happened?” He touched his head and grimaced.
Relief flooded every cell in her body. “Don’t try to move. It’s okay.” Her voice shook. Tears streamed down her face. “Someone hit you in the head. You’re going to be okay, though.”
“Nobody… In the head? Wait, I was chasing him. Cassie!” He tried to sit up, but Phil pushed him back down.
“Easy, Mr. Logan. You probably have a concussion. Don’t move so fast.”
Her father’s eyes widened and he swiped Phil’s hand away. “You don’t understand.” He grabbed onto Cassie’s coat sleeve. “It was Josh Meyer. He came here, tried to kill me. Snow got him first, she… Snow. Where is she?” He sat up, groaning with the effort.
Cassie turned toward the dog that looked like she’d been dipped in a barrel of red wine. Her father tracked her gaze.
“Get me up! Get me up!” He labored to his feet.
Phil and Cassie helped support him. He broke free of them and fell to his knees at the dog’s side. Rick was working on a tourniquet around her leg and placing pressure on the places still oozing blood.
Her father placed his hands on Snow’s head. Tears ran down his flushed cheeks. “Thank you, ole girl. I saved your life and now you saved mine. We’re even. But you can’t leave me yet. I’m not ready to lose you.” He leaned down and kissed her face.
Snow whined, lifted her head, and touched his chin with her nose. She stared into his eyes as she lowered it back down. Her tail thumped once against the deck.
The dog must’ve been in so much pain. Cassie couldn’t believe she had the strength to wag her tail for her father. She looked at Phil and Hank, both men welled up and looked away. Even Rick’s eyes misted over.
Snow’s eyelids slowly blinked shut and her father wept harder than she’d ever seen before. Then she couldn’t see anything else because her own tears blocked out everything.
~~~
When the dog closed her eyes, Rick thought for sure she was done. With the sound of Mr. Logan sobbing he couldn’t tell if the dog was gone. He put his ear to her chest, felt a soft beat against his face. “She’s breathing, but we have to hurry.” Rick continued to put pressure on Snow’s wounds, trying to tune out Cassie’s father as he wept like a heartbroken child.
A steady warmth soaked Rick’s hand. She was going to bleed out. He pushed harder against the leg wound. “We need to get her to a vet.” He touched the man’s shoulder with his other hand, leaving a bloody print. “We need to get you to hospital as well.”
“No. The EMTs can check me out. I’m not going to the hospital. Cassie, please. I’m fine. Go with Snow, make sure they take care of her. I don’t care what it costs.” His voice broke.
Cassie frowned. She looked from her dad to the dog. It was obvious she didn’t want to leave her father’s side.
Phil and Hank lifted Snow onto a blanket Rick had pulled off the couch.
Rick touched Cassie’s hand. “I’ll stay with your dad. If the EMTs have any concerns about him, I’ll call you right away. Take care of the dog, and I’ll bring him by as soon as he’s checked out.”
She stared into his eyes and he felt something he’d never felt before. A trusting comfort. A love. She kissed his lips. “Thank you. We’ll be at Sunrise Emergency Clinic. Sam said he was on his way. Once he gets here, go back to Last Chance. Let me know if you find anything.”
Rick watched her go then turned his attention back to her father. He sat in a heap on the floor, staring at the blood-soaked deck where the dog had been.
“Sir, let’s get you up,” Rick whispered and grabbed onto the man’s elbow. He needed to get him to calm down a bit, so he could ask him what happened.
“Snow will be okay, right?” he asked. “She saved my life.”
What was Rick supposed to say? Surely the dog wouldn’t survive her wounds. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know.” He helped him to the front of the house and into a chair. Mr. Logan cried into his hands and a siren wailed down the street.
CHAPTER 38
Cassie sat with Sam in the waiting area of the emergency vet’s office. Her father paced, wiping tears from his face every few minutes. The smell of animal urine and antiseptic intermixed with the Chinese food the girl behind the counter shoveled in her face. Cassie wrinkled her nose. How could she be eating right now?
People came in with their animals and left without them. Their faces masked with worry. Some sobbed uncontrollably, yanking at whatever heartstrings Cassie had left. For now they were the only ones in the waiting room.
She glanced at her phone for the hundredth time. The vet had been working on Snow a long time now. Whoever came up with the saying, ‘no news is good news’ had n
ever been waiting in a vet’s office. She let out a long sigh.
Sam grabbed her hand squeezed it, and she ran her fingers along his calloused palm. Thank God he was there. He always had a way of making her feel like everything would be all right.
She had talked to Hank. They left a team at her house and went back to the training center. Hank told her to stay put until they needed her. Part of her wanted to go and be with her team. The other part… She frowned, watching her father shuffle back and forth from the windows to the door leading back to where they’d taken Snow. She couldn’t leave him yet.
The door swung open and a sullen-looking vet walked in. She situated a stethoscope around her thick neck and gazed at her father. “Mr. Logan?”
Her father stopped pacing. His face paled. “Yes.”
Cassie jumped to her feet and stood beside him. She latched onto his trembling hand.
“We stopped the bleeding, but Snow is going to need extensive surgery. At this point I don’t want to risk putting her under anesthesia, she’s not stable. She’s lost a lot of blood.”
Her father hung his head and stared at the blue and green linoleum floor. He cleared his throat. “Is she going to make it?”
Cassie tensed and held her breath.
The doctor eyed the bandage on her father’s head. She gestured to the chair next to Sam. “Sir, maybe you should sit down.”
“No, I’m fine. Please, is she, or isn’t she going to make it?”
The vet licked her lips. “I don’t know. To be frank, I’m surprised she’s made it this long. She’s a tough girl. The next twenty-four hours are going to be important. But even if she does make it through the night, she would need to make it through surgery too. I need to put drains into all those bite wounds to fight off infection. She’s already lost her ear, and she may lose her front leg as well.”
Her father nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry,” the vet said. “I’d only give her a thirty percent chance of surviving. If she makes it through the night, I would increase that, but not by much. Maybe forty percent. I’m worried about infections springing up, and with how weak she is from blood loss, I’m not sure her body would be able to handle fighting it off."