Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Redemption for Avery (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Ryker Townsend FBI Profiler Book 2) (8 page)

San Bernardino National Forest, California

Midnight

Ryker Townsend

“This must be close to where the Hubbard girl had been discovered.” Mozart said as he pulled into the gravel lot near the trailhead.

The people of Big Bear had brought tributes to set on the ground near the entrance of the park—to honor the life of the seventeen-year-old in a touching and sad expression from the community. Stuffed bears, flowers, white crosses, homemade frames on pictures of Lily, and personal handwritten notes were strewn under the park sign.

“Yes,” I said. “Her body was about two miles down, on the edge of the marsh.”

Mozart nodded. I couldn’t imagine how painful it must be for him, to relive his worst nightmare. I wouldn’t be alone in my misery with Lucinda missing.

After he parked the truck, we put boots on the ground and headed for the abandoned Chevy Tahoe. The black SUV looked like an ominous mystery. I pulled on my latex gloves and examined the vehicle using my Kel-Lite. Nothing looked out of place and no sign of a struggle.

Why did you come here, Lucinda?

Deputy Lovell’s cruiser had lights spiraling into the night, behind the Tahoe. The deputy stood in a circle of other officers, giving the men orders. Hutch and Cam leaned against a patrol car. Even though they looked eager to get at the Tahoe, their faces were pinched with worry.

“Still no word from Lucinda?” Hutch asked, with Cam at his side.

I only shook my head. Any words I said about Lucinda being missing put finality to a bad situation. I had to concentrate on what I could do to find her.

“We searched for her, but it’s too dark to see anything on that trail,” Hutch said. “Lovell said he’d get dogs out here tomorrow. First light, Cam and I are coming back.”

“Good. If we don’t find her tonight, I’ll be here, too,” I said. “In the mean time, have the Tahoe impounded. I want you and Cam to go over every inch of it.”

“You got it, boss.” Hutch’s eyes shifted toward the shadowy trailhead. “Lovell still has people searching the trail. Nothing on her yet, but they found her cell. It tested positive for blood.”

Cam held up Lucinda’s cell phone sealed in a plastic evidence bag.

“When we process the Tahoe, we’ll test the blood on her cell to see if it’s hers,” Cam said. Her eyes glistened with tears that she fought to hold back.

“I know it’s hard, but we have to do our jobs, stay focused, and keep our minds working.” I reached out to my team and put my hands on their shoulders. “We’ll find her.”

Oblivious to the anxiety of my team, Deputy Lovell walked up with a smile on his face.

“Is that one of the SEALs who killed Hurst?” the deputy asked, waggling the toothpick in his mouth. With admiration in his eyes, Lovell hoisted his duty belt with both hands and a peculiar smirk on his face as he stared at Mozart.

From the reports I read and what Mozart had told me himself, he hadn’t pulled the trigger. His SEAL team did, with cause. I chose to ignore the deputy’s veneration for killing and introduced Mozart to Lovell and my team.

When a flatbed tow truck pulled in to the gravel lot with yellow caution lights flashing, Deputy Lovell spoke first.

“We’ve done all we can do tonight. We’ll be back at daylight with dogs to search for your missing agent.”

My brain knew the deputy had been right, but my heart wouldn’t let go. I gave my last words of encouragement to Hutch and Cam before I headed back to the truck. Mozart’s presence gave me the crutch I needed to get through this. I knew I could count on his experience and training if the need arose.

I sat and stared at the tow truck hoisting the Tahoe onto its flatbed, and I watched patrol cruisers leave the gravel lot. I hadn’t said a word since I climbed into the passenger seat and Mozart kept quiet and gave me time to think.

I sensed I had missed something important and that knowledge tortured me. Finally Mozart broke the silence.

“Say it. Out loud,” he said. “What are you thinking?” His voice boomed in the quiet.

“Two seconds.” As I blurted it out, the fog cleared.
Yes, of course.

“No. Not two seconds from now. Don’t think, just say it.”

“That’s not—”

Rather than explain, I grabbed my cell and called Sinead Royce. For the first time since Lucinda went missing, my heart pumped with greater urgency. Sinead answered on the first ring, sounding fully awake. She was part of our team and I knew she wouldn’t sleep until we found Lucinda.

“Lucinda called my phone, but she only stayed on for two seconds and didn’t leave a message. Can you triangulate her signal to get coordinates for those two seconds?”

I heard Sinead’s fingers tapping the keyboard, lightning fast. From the headset she wore, I heard her rapid breaths in my ear. She felt the adrenaline rush of hope, too.

“I got it. Her last coordinates, Ryker.”

Sinead gave me the location and Mozart plugged it into his GPS.

“That’s along the north shoreline of the lake,” Reed said. “There used to be an old vineyard up there.”

If Lucinda hadn’t been at the trailhead when she called me, how did her vehicle end up there?

“There’s only one address at her last known coordinates, Ryker,” Sinead said. “It’s a church called True Light Ministry, but it used to be called
La Maison de Sade
Cellars, a winery. I found blueprints of the property. You should have them in two shakes.”

Grayson Barbour and his family lived near the church. The pieces to the puzzle of Lucinda’s disappearance were coming together. If the Barbour kid had lied about everything, Lucinda might’ve realized too late that Grayson was dangerous.

“Buckle up, cowboy,” Mozart said with a smile. “I knew you’d pull something out of your ass.”

I considered thanking him, but decided against it.

***

Minutes later

Pain flooded her body until it throbbed into her head and stayed. Lucinda cracked her eyelids open and couldn’t focus. Everything blurred and fissures of light undulated in the dark. When she tried to move, she realized her hands were bound. She smelled blood as she lifted her head and nausea slammed her hard. She heaved and fought to breathe through her nose, to stop from getting sick.

Her toes came into focus and her senses sputtered to life like a slow, hissing fire. Cold stone chilled her bare feet and cut through her clothes to nip at her spine. She tried to swallow but her tongue felt swollen and dry.

Where am I?
She strained to make out the shapes in the murky room. A single bare light bulb hung from the ceiling. Her wrists were tied above her head. The rope cut into her skin and blood had drained down her arms.

Thick musty air filled her nostrils and made her skin clammy with sweat. The dank stench carried a memory she couldn’t place—the smell of dirt and stagnant water—something to do with Ryker and what happened to him last year.

“Ryker?” She called out, but the sound of her voice muffled. She had the symptoms of a concussion.

The clack of footsteps on stone echoed in her ears and made her head pound.
Stop
, she winced. Queasiness rushed back and bile rose hot in her belly. She braced for what would happen to her next and tried to stand to relieve the pain to her wrists.

The hazy shape of a man entered the room and she tried to focus.

“Why’d you come here?” he said.

Lucinda fought hard to recognize the voice. When she finally did, his face emerged from the gloom—Grayson Barbour.

“I made it look like I ran away.” The kid paced and ran a hand through his hair, ranting until spittle ran from his lips. “Whatever happens, it’s on you now. Not me.” He pointed a finger in her face.

She moistened her lips and cleared her parched throat.

“Nothing has to…h-happen, Grayson. You’re a juvenile. Just tell the truth. W-we can work things…out.”

Tears streaked his face and snot ran from his nose. When he stopped his frantic pacing, the kid pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and pointed the muzzle at Lucinda’s head. His hand shook and he had a finger pressed too tightly on the trigger. She held her breath in shock.

He had
her
weapon.

“What I did to Lily, they’ll stick a needle in my arm.” He broke down and cried like a baby. “I didn’t mean it, I swear, but I couldn’t…Oh, God, I couldn’t stop.”

“When did you quit taking your meds, Grayson?” She remembered his medicine cabinet and recognized his extremes.

“No, the drugs were messing me up. Stop it. You sound like my mother,” he yelled. “I don’t even remember doing what I did. Sometimes I black out, but I had her blood on me and I had a knife in my hand. It had to be me.”

He sobbed and his body convulsed.

“Is this where you took her?” she asked. “What is this place?”

“Stop asking me questions. I need to think. I can’t do that with you yelling at me.”

“I’m not yelling, Grayson.”

“Don’t argue with me!” His eyes bulged, with his face within inches of hers. “They won’t feel sorry for me. They’ll see me for the animal I am. If I let you out of here, I’m dead.”

From the corner of her eyes, Lucinda saw movement in the shadows. She wasn’t alone with Grayson Barbour, but she had to keep him distracted.

“Why did you kill her, Grayson? Explain it to me. You loved her, didn’t you?”

He whimpered and fresh tears drained down his face.

“She wouldn’t let me love her. I tried. I told her I could be gentle, but she—”

“What did she do, Grayson?”

Deputy Lovell stepped into the murky light. Lucinda saw his uniform and the deputy had his gun aimed at Grayson’s head. All he needed would be a clear shot, but the kid stood too close to her. She had to keep him talking.

“I knew you loved her. I could tell,” she said. “What did Lily do to you?”

“She scratched me…and hit me. She didn’t understand. I knew she’d been a virgin. She told me that. I wanted to be her first. It had to be me. You see that, right?”

“I do. A girl doesn’t forget her first boy,” Lucinda said. ‘It’s important that he’s the right one. I understand what you’re saying.”

“Put your hands up, Grayson.” Deputy Lovell used an even voice and he held his body as still as stone. From where he stood, he couldn’t miss. “Drop your weapon. Now.”

“Is Agent Townsend with you, deputy?” Lucinda asked.

“He’s on his way. The place is surrounded.” Deputy Lovell took a step closer. “We just need Grayson to cooperate.”

“Do as he says. We can work things out.” Another man stood in the shadows and spoke to the boy from behind cover. “God forgives all sinners, young man. Put the weapon on the ground and back away.”

Lucinda recognized his voice.

Reverend Elias Fenton had accompanied the deputy and tried to talk Grayson down. Fenton had been close to the Hubbard family. He wanted a peaceful end to the tragedy.

“Look, Grayson, you came to the church for sanctuary and I gave it to you, but it’s time to confess your sins and make peace with what you did. You’ll feel better to have that burden off your shoulders.”

Grayson blinked back tears as they rolled down his face. He grappled with the weight of the gun as he considered his options. No one moved as time dragged on.

“Will you help me, preacher?” The kid’s voice cracked. “My mom is useless. I don’t think I can get through this alone.”

“Yes, I’ll help you, Grayson.”

When the kid lowered his hand and the gun looked too heavy for him to hold, Lucinda let out the breath she’d been holding. Grayson dropped his arm and Deputy Lovell grabbed the weapon to disarm the trembling kid. The reverend came out from the shadows with a relieved look on his face. The standoff was over. Tears flooded Lucinda’s eyes and she dared to imagine Ryker’s face and think of him.

It was over.

But when the deputy yanked Grayson by the neck and put the muzzle of his gun to the kid’s head, he pulled the trigger and executed him. Warm blood spattered Lucinda’s face. She flinched in shock. The gun blast echoed in the room and Lucinda’s ears rang.

“Oh my, God. What have you done?” Her mouth moved, but she barely heard her stifled voice.

Grayson Barbour’s body fell hard to the floor. Deputy Zander Lovell had murdered him in cold blood.

True Light Ministry

12:40 a.m.

Ryker Townsend

“This is it,” Mozart said. “The GPS coordinates where your agent called you.”

A large Christian cross, more than two stories high, stood on the crest of a hill, flooded by light. If Lucinda had seen it after leaving the Barbour residence, I knew it would have drawn her.
Two seconds.
Why had her call lasted only two seconds, and why hadn’t she left me a message?

“What’s your gut tell you?” Mozart must’ve read my doubts as we pulled up to the church.

“She would’ve come here. It’s too close to Grayson Barbour’s house not to check it out.”

He nodded and cut off the engine.

“Then let’s do this,” Mozart said. “Never give up. Never surrender.”

“Did you just quote Galaxy Quest?”

“That depends. Did it work?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Let’s get you suited up for church,” he said.

In the back seat of his Dodge Ram—under his
Snuggy Ride
baby seat—Mozart had a custom weapons locker welded into the floorboard of his vehicle. When he opened the secret compartment, he yanked out a Kevlar vest and tossed it to me.

“Pick what you want. Weapons are loaded,” he said as he shrugged into his own body armor.

Mozart hadn’t been kidding when he claimed to have a mobile armory. I carried my FBI-issued Glock 21, but he had other weapons, ammunition, and flashbangs—M84 stun grenades used in hostage rescue operations. We had enough to start a small war.

Geared up, we headed for the church and its well-lit entrance. From the schematic Sinead had sent to my phone, I knew where Elias Fenton had his private quarters on the property of True Light Ministry. This time of night, I expected the reverend to be in his residence, quarters located behind the altar inside the church. We climbed the steps and I rang the doorbell.

In the distance, I heard the sound of a dog barking. The animal sounded agitated. I flashed on the grating noise of gnashing teeth and remembered the sound from my vision. The pieces to my disturbing dream flooded my mind. When I looked up at the steeple, a large bell hung in the belfry—the exact one I’d seen in my waking nightmare with its incessant ringing.

This has to be it.

After several long minutes, Elias Fenton answered the door, dressed in pajamas and a robe with his hair tousled.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” He squinted and blinked under the light as he wrapped his robe around him.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but one of my agents is missing. I have reason to believe she’d been on your property when she placed a call to me. Have you seen Agent Lucinda Crowley?”

“I remember meeting her at the Hubbard home, but no. I haven’t seen her this evening. Surely she would’ve come to me if she were on church property.”

“Do you mind if we come inside to look around?” I wanted access to the church and his private quarters behind the altar.

“No, please. Everyone is welcome.” He stood aside to let us enter. “Please look wherever you must.”

Mozart didn’t waste time with the formality of an introduction. Once we stepped through the door, he searched the building. The preacher stayed with me as I looked around. My boots echoed on wooden floor planks as I walked toward the altar and the pulpit. Huge stained glass windows cast eerie distortions of moonlight into the shadowy place of worship.

My heart sank when I didn’t see any sign of Lucinda. I sensed a hollow emptiness in the building. I didn’t feel her there. Mozart returned and shook his head without saying a word. He hadn’t found any indication she had been there, but before we left, I had a question for the reverend.

“That dog I hear barking. Is it yours?”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose it is. He’s a guard dog for the property. I inherited him from the previous owners.”

“What’s the dog’s name?”

“Sade. From what I understand, he’s Sade the fourth. The previous owners had a winery and the name carried meaning for them. They must’ve named their dogs after the vineyard.”

I fought hard to keep my face stoic after hearing the name of the dog I remembered from my waking dream, when thirty-four dead souls appeared in my vision.

“
La Maison de Sade
Cellars. That’s French, for House of Sade.”

“Yes, I believe so.” The minister smiled. “My, you have come prepared. Are you a lover of history, agent?”

“The name of Sade rings a bell. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it.”

Questions coiled through my mind like a tempest. How long had Elias Fenton been in Big Bear? Had he known the previous owners or had they been related to him? He fit the age of the UNSUB I hunted. When I glanced at Mozart, he shot me a questioning look, but doubt kept me rooted. I had no proof—only a waking dream and the name of a dog.

Could this man standing in front of me be Avery’s killer? Or could the missing girls and the deaths be linked to the family who had owned the winery? I had nothing but my indefinable instinct raising the hair on my neck.

“Well, don’t let me delay you,” the reverend said. “I’m sure you’ll want to keep searching for your missing agent. I will pray for her safe return.”

“Thanks for your time. I’m sorry we woke you.”

I nodded and turned my back on the man, with Reed at my side. When we got far enough away from the church to speak openly, Mozart spoke first.

“That man’s a liar,” he said.

“Yep.” I didn’t break stride. “Like I said to Fenton, the name Sade, it’s not the first time I’ve heard it.”

I couldn’t tell him about the dog and its master in my vision—and the role the dog had played in Avery’s abduction—but something I’d read in a history book had surfaced in my mind.

“Fenton failed to mention Sade is the name of a controversial French writer and ‘killer of God’—the Marquis de Sade. The word ‘
sadism
’ comes from his name.”

“I bet you’d clean up on Jeopardy.”

“Given how Lily died, that’s too much coincidence for me.”

“I take it you have a plan?” Mozart asked.

“This place had been named for its wine cellar. Where do you suppose that cellar is?”

I remembered something on Sinead’s blueprints of the property, part of the old winery’s cellar. The church had been a new build, but sections of the old vineyard remained, especially a hard to dispose of underground storage vault.

“I have to know, for sure.”

If Lucinda came here, what did she find? My gut tortured me when I realized—she could already be dead. But if she were alive, leaving without her would be signing her death warrant.

I had no choice.

***

Minutes later

Ryker Townsend

Mozart parked the truck down the road and we doubled back in the dark, armed with everything we could carry. I upgraded to an M4 carbine assault rifle and Mozart brought a breaching shotgun with Hatton rounds, designed to destroy locks, deadbolts, and hinges. With M84 stun grenades on our duty belts, and NVG headgear—thermal imaging night vision goggles—we were ready for a hostage rescue mission.

I thought about calling for backup, but if our wine cellar invasion went sideways, I wouldn’t have brought Hutch and Cam into our covert op and I didn’t trust Deputy Lovell to get it right. Since I didn’t have legitimate probable cause, I wouldn’t take the chance of dragging my team or anyone else into the mud.

I would take the heat—no one else.

From the corner of my eye, I kept Mozart in view. His body heat registered on my NVG as he drifted by me in silence like a shark in deep water. We kept to the shadows past the church as we headed toward the back of the wooded acreage.

When we approached the old garage, I gave Mozart a hand signal and we both checked it out. I wiped the dirt off a window and saw the garage was empty. After we cleared the building for any threats, I gave another hand signal for us to move out.

In a shadowy circle of trees, in a secluded corner of the property, one structure remained—the old wine cellar. We scrambled across an open field until our backs were up against a stone wall. I inched closer to an opening and peered into an antechamber. In my vision in the clearing, I endured the sensations of being underground. I thought the nightmarish recollection had been from last year when I almost died, but now I knew.

My dream had foreshadowed this moment.

A wooden door dominated what remained of the dilapidated room—the cellar. I signaled a game plan to Mozart and he followed me in. I inched toward the entrance and, with a hand, I nudged the door handle. It wouldn’t budge.

Locked.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and cocked my head toward the door. Mozart had the master key in his hands—his breaching shotgun with Hatton rounds. Once he started shooting, our element of surprise would end.

“Avon calling,” I whispered. “Make every shot count.”

If Lucinda were being held inside, every second mattered. We had to breach the door and make it fast. I trusted Mozart with Lucinda’s life. I
had
to.

***

“You can’t get away with this. Ryker will figure it out.” Lucinda struggled against her restraints. The rope rubbed her skin raw and fresh blood drained down her arms.

“He’s already gone and he bought everything I told him,” Fenton said. “No one will save you, not even God.”

“How will you explain Grayson Barbour? When they find his body—”

“No one will find him or his car. We’ve already planted enough evidence to place the blame for Lily’s death. Deputy Lovell will see to the rest.”

“The little bastard tried to rape her. He chased her to the church and—” Lovell glanced toward the preacher. “—we intervened.”

“Grayson didn’t kill her, did he?” she asked. “Which one of you did it? He was off his meds. You convinced him he did it, after you covered him in her blood and put the knife in his hands.”

“It was easier to control him when he thought we were helping him get away with murder. That’s all you need to know,” Fenton said, as he lit a cigarette and drew smoke into his lungs.

“Ben Hurst and Wade Thomas Altamonte, what were they to you?” she asked.

“Insurance. Hurst was too stupid to last. He liked ‘em older and he got caught, but the teacher was another story.” Lovell grinned. “You might say we recruited Altamonte, made it easy for him to live the life he wanted to. We kept an eye on him. Couldn’t have him drawing attention, but once he got a steady diet of young meat, he stayed in line.”

“Were you surprised when we found out his real name and had him arrested?”

“Yeah, but we landed on our feet. We were prepared to throw him under the bus to misdirect your investigation. Your boss bought Lovell’s lie about that pervert visiting an aunt as a kid,” Elias said. “All the good deputy had to do was plant a few trophies and trace evidence, and your team would be satisfied. We were Teflon all the way.”

“Until Grayson brought me here.”

“Little bastard.” Lovell kicked the kid’s body to roll him and pulled Barbour’s pockets inside out. When he found a keychain, the deputy grimaced. “I didn’t think he even knew about the cellar, until I lost my keys. Turns out the little asshole found ‘em and lied about it. You can’t trust anyone.”

Prolific killers got into a complacent rhythm with their kills after everything turned routine. Lucinda cringed at the thought. Grayson Barbour died, and dragged her into the line of fire, because Lovell had gotten careless with his keys.

“Your Barney Fife routine, it was an act, wasn’t it?”

Lovell smirked.

“You and that boss of yours, you think I’m a dumb jackass who can’t count his balls. You think I didn’t notice the insults?” He spat at her feet and glared at her. “Well, you were right about one thing. Your UNSUB has something against women. After Elias treats you like the meat you are, I’ll slit you open from cunt to beating heart, while you scream. You’re gonna wish I put a bullet in your head.”

Lovell shook with contempt.

He and Elias Fenton were stone cold killers, operating in plain sight and covering for each other. They had back-up plans if anyone came too close. If they killed her now, Ryker might buy their story that Grayson Barbour had killed Lily and lured Lucinda to follow him into a trap. No matter how they spun the tale, they had their rehearsed responses and would lie to protect each other.

They could get away with everything.

Elias tossed his cigarette as he approached her and pulled a knife. He cut through her clothes—taking his time—and enjoyed every degrading moment of her shame.

“You’ll serve the purpose for which you were truly intended.” Elias Fenton ran a hand over her breasts and leered at his handiwork. “I invite you to scream. It makes me hard, but down here, no one will hear you.”

Elias stripped off every stitch of his clothes, revealing his erect penis and a body covered in tattoos—horrific images in ink of his sadistic perversions. Zander Lovell moved toward a switch and turned on a light. A pale glow spread across the surface of a table, glinting off the shiny tools of his trade—chains saws, knives, and bone spreaders.