Where Angels Fear (Detectives Kane and Alton)

Not wanting to discuss the matter in the office, Jenna frowned. “We’ll talk in the car.” She looked him up and down. “Phone? Gear?”

“In my truck with a Thermos of coffee, soup and a stack of sandwiches I picked up at Aunt Betty’s earlier.” Kane smiled at her. “I figured we’d be eating on the run today.”

Jenna pulled on her thick woolen hat and gloves, then followed him out the main entrance. The bitter cold hit her face in a stinging rush. Snow fell, dusting her coat with white flakes and making the sidewalk slippery. Winter had its own special smell, a combination of snow, wood-fire smoke and pine. A blanket of snow covered the town but it was awash with color, from the decorations hanging between the streetlamps and across the main street to the red-cheeked townsfolk, most wearing brightly colored scarves and hats. Kids darted everywhere, puffing out great clouds of steam as they built snowmen or threw snowballs. The pure white snow was fun for the children, but she figured after three months or more they, like everyone else, would look forward to the melt.

She glanced at Kane’s truck—“the beast”, as he called his modified unmarked black Dodge, was fitted with winter tires, for safety. She heard an excited bark and smiled at Duke peering out the window. She climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over the back to rub the dog’s ears. “Hey, Duke, nice harness.”

“Yeah, he has a fear of cages, so a harness was the next best thing to keep him safe.” Kane smiled at her. “I can attach his leash to it as well.” He slid behind the wheel and started the engine.

Jenna waited until they reached the highway before starting a conversation, busying herself with filling two to-go cups with coffee from the thermos. She figured Kane needed all his attention on negotiating the icy roads and idiot drivers through town and the suburbs. The highway into Black Rock Falls, although blanketed each side by endless white, had been cleared and salted since the last blizzard. A bright yellow flashing sign informed motorists: Highway closed between Peak Crossing and Blackwater.

She turned in her seat, cup in hand. “You mentioned something about the timeline?” She handed him a coffee.

“Yeah.” Kane took the to-go cup, sipped then placed it in the console. “Sky went missing Friday night but the doctor didn’t take blood from you until Saturday. If you’re a target, it would make more sense for her to be involved in Doug Paul’s disappearance. I figure she would know you’d run the investigation from home and wouldn’t be out looking for her.” He sighed. “As a sniper, I wouldn’t risk taking down a target with a chopper overhead and a team on the ground. Out here in the snow, I’d be a sitting duck.”

Jenna considered his words and nodded. “Yeah, but she knew I was returning to work today.”

“Exactly.” Kane glanced at her, then his attention went back to the road. “No vehicles on the highway and no search and rescue around to spot a sniper.”

Fear skittered up Jenna’s spine, raising the hairs on her body. “Yeah, if she has a match on my DNA and knew I was alone yesterday, she might have tried to subdue me. She was desperate to get inside the house.” She shuddered. “Why else would she come by when she could have called me? I don’t trust her. I should never have allowed her to take blood.”

“I don’t either and we have people checking her out. If she as much as jaywalked we’ll know by tonight.” Kane’s lips twitched up at the corners. “She may be working with the cartel to get a positive ID on you but because of the timeline, I can’t tie her in with Sky’s disappearance. How could she possibly know Sky and Ella would be on the highway at that particular time?” He sighed. “I wish I knew what prompted Doug and Ella to suddenly go searching for Sky in the middle of the night.”

The satellite phone rang and Jenna picked it up. “Alton.”

“It’s Wolfe. I’ve located Doug Paul’s truck. I’ll give you the coordinates.”

Jenna uploaded the information into the GPS. “Thanks. Anything on Doc Weaver yet?”

“Not yet. I’m expecting an update soon, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” Jenna disconnected and looked at the GPS screen. “The truck is about a half-mile ahead on the highway.”

The truck came into sight as they rounded a bend. Someone leapt from the cab, ran into the middle of the road and waved their arms. She could see her mouth working but could not hear her. “Is that Ella Tate?”

“I figure it’s a possibility.” Kane grimaced. “If so, where’s Doug Paul?”

“Maybe he’s injured.” As Kane slowed his vehicle, Jenna’s attention went to a line of deep grooves leaving the road and cutting through the frozen bank of snow. “That doesn’t look good.”

“Nope.” Kane sucked i

n a breath. “Looks like someone ran off the road and into the ditch.”

They pulled up behind Doug Paul’s truck and Jenna spotted the faded red taillights of a crumpled wreck through a coating of snow. The vehicle sat at an odd angle. The driver’s side wheels had cleared the ditch but the other side hadn’t been so lucky. She turned to Kane, pulling up her hood. “I’ll take a look, and you’d better get Ella out of the cold.”

She jumped from the truck and gasped at the icy chill seeping through her thick clothes. Breathing out great clouds of steam, she made her way toward the wreck then stopped mid stride at the horrific scene before her. A body stuck half out the windshield and a sparking trail of blood had frozen to the white paintwork. “Oh, my God.”

Twenty-Seven

The sharp smell of antiseptic drew Doug out of a deep sleep. Voices, low and mumbling, drifted through the miasma in his foggy brain. He dragged open his eyelids but, finding the effort too much and the light far too bright, closed them again. His mom usually threw open the drapes and cleaned his bathroom when she wanted him to do some chores. He opened his mouth to call out and remind her he was on vacation but his tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth. Where had he ended up last night? His mind wandered back to his day and he remembered leaving the house with Ella and hunting for Sky. A stark image of a woman thrust through a windshield flashed into his mind and he opened his eyes. Above, a bright light shone down on him. Heavy drapes surrounded his bed. There was an unnerving familiarity to the beeps and sucking sounds of the machinery. The same noises he remembered from visiting his grandpa in the hospital in the days before the old man died.

Am I dying? What the hell had happened to him? He turned his head to call out to the distant voices and the room tilted then a tidal wave of nausea hit him. Oh, that can’t be good. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths until the feeling passed. Under him, crisp, smooth sheets pressed against his flesh, so he was not suffering from paralysis. Yet he felt strangely unattached to his body and checked to make sure he had all his body parts. He wiggled his toes and moved his fingers, but the effort to lift an arm sent pain searing through his left side. Agony had awoken like a sleeping tiger to gnaw at his flesh. Dear Lord, had someone shot him? He trembled, panting in torment. Sweat coated his brow and salty rivulets stung his eyes. He tried to force words from his dry throat. “Help me.” His voice came out in a raspy whisper, but someone heard.

The curtain swished open. A man dressed in hospital scrubs and wearing a mask peered at him. Then he turned away and moments later turned back, holding a syringe.

Doug lifted his chin and had to force out the words. “What… happened… to me?”

“You’ve been in a car wreck. Don’t you remember?”