Shadow of Vengeance (32 page)

He looked at Rachel again just as she slid the scarf Joy had given her under her chin. After removing one glove, she wiped perspiration from her upper lip then blew out a stream of breath that caught on the frigid air and then quickly dissipated. Jake said something to her, and touched her shoulder. She nodded and smiled. As she replaced the scarf, she glanced his way. Their gazes locked. He thought about her lips, the way her breasts had pressed against his chest last night, how soft her skin had been when he’d gripped her hips.
 

Jake touched her shoulder again, then pointed to the left. She blinked and quickly turned away, then began following Jake’s new direction.

Fucking Jake.

As he trudged through the snow, he thought about all the different ways he could tell Jake exactly what he thought of him. When the wind kicked up with wicked intent, causing him to shield his eyes and then his head when a chunk of snow plopped from a pine tree, he realized Jake wasn’t the problem. The stubborn, caustic, sexy, sassy woman with killer curves was the issue.
 

She confused him, running hot one minute, then icy cold the next. He didn’t understand her. Didn’t understand what the hell she’d meant last night when she’d said the kiss had been a definite improvement over the last time.
Last time?
He’d been aching for the chance to kiss her and more for nearly four years. If he’d kissed her, he would’ve damn sure remembered. If Walter hadn’t been in the Lexus with them during their drive to the river, he would have asked her about her
last time
bullshit.
 

Last time my ass, he thought and scanned the open field they were approaching and the line of woods beyond it.
 

“Walter,” Jake called. “Let’s split up from here. Have your men fan out ten feet from one another and take them east toward the old state park hunting post. Call if you find anything.”
 

As Walter moved the six men he’d been leading, Jake had them continuing west. When they’d first arrived, they’d done another search near the river, checking the shoreline and the woods within one hundred yards of the water. When they’d found nothing, not even a single footprint, Jake had them split into two teams. They’d been walking for about twenty minutes and while he wasn’t sure how far they’d gone, he could no longer hear the rush of the river. Actually, with all the cawing crows flying overhead, he was lucky he could hear himself think.
 

Maybe that was a good thing. Because all he could think about was last night and Rachel’s cryptic parting remark.
 

Last time.
 

After she’d slammed the door in his face, he’d gone to his room. Between having sex on the brain and her sarcastic, confounding barb, he couldn’t sleep. Restless, horny and pissed, he’d left Joy’s. Initially he’d planned to go for a drive to clear his head. When he’d wound up in the next county and had spotted the Wal-Mart, he’d thought about Rachel’s frustration with not having the equipment she was used to back at CORE. He’d bought what supplies the store had, not as a peace offering—hell, he wouldn’t know what to apologize for anyway—and not as a way to charm her out of her yoga pants, either. He’d made those purchases because he’d wanted do whatever possible to help wrap up this investigation and go back to Chicago. Once home, Ian would give him a new assignment, hopefully a thousand miles away from Chicago, and he could put some distance between him and Rachel. She drove him crazy, and he could use the time away from her to figure out how to shake whatever hold she had over him.

“Everyone spread out in a line,” Jake called. “Once we cross this open field we’ll head into the woods.”

“The edge of the university property is about seventy-five yards through those trees,” Percy said and pointed to the woods in the distance. The bartender, along with about two-dozen Bola residents, as well as a handful of guys Bill worked with at the university, had also joined the early morning search party. “Do we need permission to continue the search once we hit that land?”

Jake looked over his shoulder. “I’m not worried about it, considering Bill works for them. Come on, let’s go.”

Fifteen blustering minutes later, they reached the woods. The naked trees and their thick trunks gave a small reprieve from the biting wind, but Owen suspected that wouldn’t last long. Another small clearing loomed in the distance, which meant they’d be out in the open again.
 

With the back of his gloved hand, he pushed his knit cap up a little to rub his throbbing temple. Exhausted, cold and irritated, he wanted the search to end. He wanted to find Bill—alive—head back to Joy’s, take a hot shower, then sleep. Unfortunately, sleep would have to wait. After they finished with the search, he and Rachel had to head back to the university for a couple more interviews, then they’d likely visit Sean at the hospital. Plus, knowing Rachel, she’d probably have more busy work for him.
 

The ache in his temple grew just thinking about reading through more lists of names and all that other cross-referencing bullshit she had him doing last night. And he swore if those fucking crows didn’t stop all their squawking, either his head would explode or he’d pull out his gun and use the birds for target practice once they reached the next clearing.

“Damn.” Percy stumbled over a rotted log, then righted himself against a tree. “Look at the way those crows are circling.”

Owen dropped his head back and looked through the naked treetops. About a dozen or so black birds dipped and dove, but remained, eerily, in the same mid-air location. A chill swept through him that had nothing to do with the cold temperatures. He looked to Rachel who was about twenty feet from him. As she picked her way through the woods, she kept her eyes on the ground. Because she didn’t acknowledge what Percy had just said, he assumed she hadn’t heard him.
 

Taking advantage, Owen rushed to the bartender’s side. “Why would crows circle?”

Without pausing, Percy lifted a shoulder. “Probably feeding off a dead deer or whatever the coyotes could’ve left behind.”

He gripped the sleeve of Percy’s heavy-duty hunting coat, then glanced at Rachel, who continued to navigate the wooded terrain. “What about Bill?” he asked, keeping his tone quiet. If Bill ended up being the crows’ current meal, he didn’t want Rachel witnessing something so horrendous.
 

Percy jerked his head and stared at him, his eyes growing round with either understanding or horror. Owen couldn’t be sure which, and at this point it didn’t matter. Bill might not be the crows’ focus. The missing man might not be out here, period. “Sorry.” Owen let go of Percy’s sleeve. “That was morbid. I’m sure you’re right about the deer or whatever,” he said, even as his gut twisted with unease.
 

“Walter found footprints,” Jake shouted, his voice bouncing off the tree trunks. He waved his phone. “Sounds like he’s heading back in our direction. Let’s get to the clearing up ahead, then head east and intercept his group.”
 

Still wide-eyed, Percy stared at him and shook his head. “This ain’t good.” He looked over his shoulder to where Rachel hiked. “The women in my family grew up hunting, but what you’re suggesting isn’t something even I think I can stomach. How about your partner?”

The only murder victims Rachel had ever seen were from photographs or video footage. No doubt he considered her tough and—mentally and emotionally—one of the strongest women he knew. Still, he’d rather shelter her from what he suspected lay beyond the trees. Then again, working in the field was important to her and she needed to earn her stripes. “She’ll be fine,” he said and quickened his pace.

As he neared the edge of the tree line, he caught sight of where the crows circled, and took off in a full sprint. The icy air burned his lungs as he ran through the clearing toward the next set of trees. Toward where dozens of crows gathered on the ground and in the sky.
 

His heart sped, and adrenaline and dread rushed through his veins. Percy and Jake shouted behind him, but between the cawing and wind, their calls were muffled and indistinct. Then he heard Rachel cry out, the alarm in her voice had him slowing. He turned, slowly jogged backward, then freaked by the horror crumpling her pretty face, stopped dead. She’d shoved the scarf under her chin and was running full steam, waving her arms and calling for him. Worried he’d missed something while sprinting to the crows, terrified by the way she was panicking, he retraced his steps and took off toward her. Running as fast as he could through the layers of snow until they stood face-to-face.

 
“Oh my God,” she panted, bent and placed her gloved hands on her legs. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He grabbed her upper arms and gripped her thick coat sleeves. Torn between shaking her and hauling her into his arms, he asked, “What the hell happened? Why are you—?”
 

 
A shot exploded behind him.
 

He hauled Rachel into his arms, covered her head and used his body to shield her. Keeping her protected, he quickly looked over his shoulder just as a thick black cloak rose from the ground then scattered in a wave of beating wings and piercing shrieks.
 

“It’s just Walter firing a warning shot,” Jake said as he slowed to a jog and approached them. “Didn’t want you getting in the way.”

Men’s shouts replaced the crows’ caws. With reluctance, he released Rachel, and turned back toward the tree line. The moment he did, he wished he hadn’t let go of her. Wearing his security guard uniform, Bill Baker sat on the snow-covered ground against a tree. And it didn’t look like he was sleeping.

Taking Rachel by the hand, he put himself in front of her and slowly approached. Walter and his men had already surrounded Bill. By the haunting expressions paling their faces, Owen knew this wasn’t going to be pretty.
 

“What do we have?” Jake pushed his way between the men. They parted ways, giving the sheriff ample room and in the process revealed a sight Owen could have gone without seeing.
 

The crows had picked at Bill’s eyes, leaving behind hollow cavities that made the man look less human and more like something out of a grotesque horror movie. The birds had torn the skin away from his mouth and fleshy cheeks, giving Bill a monstrous grin. Thick ropes intersected and twined around Bill’s neck, wide chest and stomach. His arms had been wrapped behind his back in a way only a limber contortionist could manage. In a way meant to keep Bill from protecting himself from the harsh elements, the birds…from escaping.
 

When Rachel gasped, he turned and realized she’d moved next to him. As she stared at Bill’s lifeless body, her face grew alarmingly ashen. Her eyes watered with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked and held a gloved hand to her mouth. Knowing this was likely the first victim she’d encountered, he had an overwhelming protective urge to shelter her. Actually, he wanted to shake some sense into her. She might be brilliant and have a knack for coming up with different angles and leads, but she shouldn’t be in the field. She shouldn’t have to see this. Then again, maybe now she’d realize her position as CORE’s computer forensic analyst wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. She could go back to her regular job, to the safety of the office and not have him worrying. About her, about how cases like this one would affect her emotional, mental and physical well-being.
 

Worried she might vomit, he ushered her away from the body and other men. “Do you have the camera?”

Her gaze remained on Bill as she nodded and pulled the small camera out of her pocket.
 

“I’ll take some pictures. Why don’t you hang tight and—”

“No. I can do this,” she said, but the uncertainty in her tone told him otherwise.
 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said, and still holding the camera, added, “I’ll take the pictures. Just give me a head’s up if it looks like I’m missing anything.”

His earlier anger subsided. He still didn’t want her exposed to this, but he couldn’t help but admire her determination. She’d set out to do a job, to lead her first investigation and she planned to see it through, despite the outcome. Despite the possible body count.
 

When they reached the group of men again, Jake took a step away from Bill’s body. “Did anybody call the other team yet?” After receiving a unanimous no, he nodded. “Good. Let’s hold off. I don’t want Hal here for this.”
 

Bill’s dad was part of the other group that had splintered off after searching the river. Like the sheriff, Owen was also grateful those men hadn’t been notified of their discovery yet. He could only imagine the distraught father’s grief. Until they had a better look at what exactly happened to Bill, he didn’t want Hal compromising their possible crime scene.
 

“I’m not a medical examiner,” Jake said. “But I think Bill died of hypothermia.”

Rachel squatted and began taking pictures. “The rope around his neck is loose. He could twist his head, but couldn’t slip out of it. Look at the skin around his neck.”

Rope burns lined Bill’s blue skin. Bits of flesh had been removed along the abrasion, likely from the crows.
 

“More of the same here,” Walter said from behind the tree. “Looks like he tried to work his way out of the ropes around his wrist.” He craned his neck around the tree trunk. “He had to have been in a lot of pain. Got some nasty frostbite. I’m guessing his shoulders were dislocated, too.”