Rescue Operation. Lenora Worth

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Название Rescue Operation
Автор произведения Lenora Worth
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Military K-9 Unit
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474085571



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to hold off my man, so he must have seen Buster and Chad rappelling down behind me and he must have known that Chad went in the other direction. Then the shooting started up again, and he got away. I called you immediately and then we went about our business. Buster searched for Sullivan but to no avail, and Chad went off on another search grid. Roscoe alerted in this spot a few minutes later.”

      “You were right to call me.”

      “Yes, but now I’m regretting that decision. We’ve got a whole team on the alert and you’re wasting time not believing me.”

      “I’m trying to get a handle on this. Go on.”

      Taking a breath, she squared her shoulders. “Roscoe started digging and I tried to follow his lead until you got here. But I can assure you the man I saw was Sullivan. I certainly know his face and I know what he’s capable of doing.”

      Oliver saw a slight tremble forming on her lips. Delayed reaction. He had to keep her talking, however. “What happened between you two? Did you try to detain him?”

      Ava gave him a look that asked, So this is how you’re gonna play this?

      “Sullivan held an M4 on me. He was wearing a tight uniform that obviously didn’t belong to him and a black tam. He looked me in the eye and said, ‘I’m not here to hurt you.’”

      Motioning behind them, she said, “He also told me to pretend I’d never seen him and ordered me to call off my guard. I didn’t get to question him since more gunfire erupted and Sullivan used the distraction to get away.”

      “Just like that?”

      “Yes, just like that,” she said, grinding out each word. “Last time we saw him, he was headed west.”

      Oliver felt a headache coming on. His black water-resistant FBI jacket sparkled with fat raindrops. “But he told you he wasn’t shooting at you? And he just walked away?”

      “He told me he wasn’t going to hurt me,” she said again, her porcelain skin damp and dewy. “What part of I stood face-to-face with the Red Rose Killer don’t you understand?”

      “I don’t understand any of this,” Oliver replied, matching her inch for inch since she was almost as tall as him, his eyes holding hers in a stubborn standoff that not even a torrential rain could stop. “The man killed five people in his hometown and he’s gone on a killing spree on this base throughout the summer. Not to mention he has a whole target list that he wants to kill. And we have reason to believe he also killed Airman Drew Golosky a few days ago in order to get his uniform and ID for base access. But he tells you he’s not going to hurt you?”

      “Yes, Special Agent Davison,” Ava Esposito said again, aggravation deeply embedded in her words. “But someone did shoot at me and then Boyd Sullivan headed into the woods. I think that shooter, along with my K-9 partner and Buster watching my back, saved me.”

      Stomping water off her boots, she added, “The shooter must have been covering Sullivan. If that’s the case, then he has some help. Which we’ve suspected all along. So let me get back to my work, and you go find the Red Rose Killer and whoever else is out there.”

      He wanted to find Boyd Sullivan, all right. Especially since he had a personal beef with the man. Most of the investigative team knew Oliver’s history with Boyd Sullivan, even if they didn’t bring it up. Oliver was the only one who knew the whole truth about Madison’s past, and that she’d been briefly involved with Sullivan in high school and again a few years ago when she’d been dating Oliver. Her murder was still too personal for Oliver to talk about, and he couldn’t risk being pulled off the case because of his personal interest. His SAC had approved his coming here, with the stipulation that he didn’t have a personal vendetta. But how could he not?

      Needing the whole picture, he asked, “Did you send your K-9 partner after him?”

      “Roscoe alerted on this cave,” she replied, pointing to the jagged four-foot-high rock face covered in bushes. “I kept him here because I was concerned about getting shot before I could locate the missing boy who might be inside.”

      A little boy missing in six hundred acres of dense thicket overgrown with clusters of trees and heavy brush. A place where dark caves and craggy hills and rocky bluffs made searching that much harder. A place where all types of predators, from poisonous snakes to wild animals of all shapes and sizes, lurked about.

      Oliver worried about the worst kind of predator. The Red Rose Killer. He’d have no qualms about killing a child.

      “But you haven’t found the boy?”

      Rain rolled off her helmet while disappointment and annoyance singed hot through her pretty eyes. “No, Turner Johnson was not inside the cave, so obviously I haven’t found the boy. But I will. Roscoe is never wrong.”

      Oliver squinted into the wet, chilly woods. All around them, Security Forces, the Office of Special Investigations and the Military Working Dog handlers moved like hulking shadows while choppers whirled overhead. Crime-scene techs searched for evidence and bullet fragments or shell casings. Boyd Sullivan was out there somewhere. Probably long gone by now, however, since the woods had become overrun with air force personnel.

      Oliver looked toward the heavens. “A missing seven-year-old and a serial killer on the loose. In the same woods. This is not good. So not good.”

      Her hostile gaze affirmed that summary. “No, and I really need to get back to Roscoe and his find.”

      Touching her arm, he glanced at the patient golden-coated Labrador retriever and said, “I understand you want to explore Roscoe’s discovery. I’m anxious to catch up with the team searching for Boyd Sullivan. But I need to ask you a few more questions.”

      She glared at him for a moment and then checked on the K-9 eager to dig in the mud. “I’ve told you what happened and now I’m going to do what I came here to do. Because whatever’s buried here might give us a clue to find the boy.”

      * * *

      Special Agent Oliver Davison stared at Ava, skepticism heavy in his green eyes. The man obviously didn’t believe a word of what she’d just told him. And he was seriously beginning to get on her already singed nerves.

      But he did have a point. Why had Sullivan allowed her to live when he’d killed so many people already?

      He’d been sent to prison for those killings a few years ago. He wanted revenge, and he was willing to kill anyone who stood in his way. He was armed and dangerous, and yes, she’d let him get away. That didn’t sit well with Ava, but she had to focus on the mission at hand.

      Even while the creepiness factor made her want to take off and track the killer.

      Sullivan earned his name because he always left a red rose and a note stating “I’m coming for you” to warn his victims, and another note stating “Got you” after he’d killed them. Four other base personnel were targeted, so the base had been on high alert all summer. Boyd had a way on and off the base and Ava believed, along with her team members, that he was hiding out in these woods and using uniforms and IDs from some of the other airmen he’d killed to keep up the charade.

      Now she’d seen the killer with her own eyes and this agent doubted her and wanted to waste her time while a child could get caught in the cross fire. Glaring up at him, Ava saw something besides a steely determination in the special agent’s green eyes.

      Sadness. Then it hit her. He’d been involved with one of the victims from Dill. She didn’t know the whole story, but rumors had circulated. Now was not the time to go into that, however.

      “I need to get back to work,” she said on a calm note, hoping to cut him some slack. “Roscoe’s waiting to do his job.”

      “Just a few more details,” he insisted, a stubborn glint in his eyes.

      Remembering how her heart had gone haywire earlier, Ava thought about Boyd Sullivan’s weird reaction to finding