“Dammit, Tanner, what the hell is going on up there?” Cam demanded. “I’m trying to do what you asked and keep this low-key, but it’s starting to get out of hand. My captain thinks this is gang-related and that I know more than I’m saying. I don’t know how much longer I can keep the lid on this, especially if more bodies show up.”
Tanner sighed. “I understand. Try to give me a little more time, but don’t do anything to risk your career. Let me know if you hear anything else.”
“Was that the police?” Chad asked, his jaw tight.
Tanner nodded. “Yeah. My brother. He’s a cop with the Seattle PD.”
Chad cursed, his fists clenching like he wanted to punch something. Probably him. “Dammit, Tanner. I trusted you! You know how we feel about cops. You promised you wouldn’t get them involved.”
Tanner could have pointed out he never promised not to get the cops involved, just the feds. But the distinction would likely be lost on the man. Besides, none of that mattered now.
“Yeah, well, they are involved, so you need to get the hell over it,” Tanner said. In the background, his inner hybrid was pacing back and forth in its cage restlessly. It wanted out—bad. “While you’re standing here worrying about the authorities rousing your people, someone is out there right now picking you off one or two at a time. This is bigger than your damn paranoia, Chad. There are some sickos out there tranquilizing and murdering your friends. The Seattle ME has five bodies in their morgue, and two of them are preppers. Someone beat them to death, then dumped their bodies.”
Chad’s shoulders sagged, the color draining from his face as he sank down onto the closest bench. “Why the hell is this happening? Why would someone do something like this?”
Tanner sighed. “I have no idea.” He moved closer to Chad while keeping one eye on Zarina. She was staying put, but likely only until the vehicles full of injured arrived from the other camp. “Is there any chance you or anyone else pissed someone off?”
Chad shook his head. All around the building, everyone else did the same. Tanner thought as much.
Outside, the trucks started arriving from the other camp. When Zarina headed for the door, Tanner immediately followed.
“I need to talk to you,” he said as he fell into step beside her.
She kept walking. “I don’t have time to talk right now. There are injured people coming in, and I have to get ready for surgery.”
“I know, and I’m not stopping you,” he said. “I just want you to know I’m taking you back to Seattle and putting you on the first plane to DC.”
Zarina stopped outside Lorraine’s cabin to glare at him. “You’ll only be wasting your time, because I’m not going.”
With that, she spun on her heel and walked into the cabin. A moment later, Spencer ran up carrying the wounded girl from the other camp and disappeared inside as well, leaving Tanner standing there alone with the memory of Zarina’s words for company.
Seeing the injured woman with hair the same color as Zarina’s only firmed his resolve. He didn’t care what he had to do; he was putting her on a plane tomorrow.
* * *
“So you think Mahsood somehow heard about Joanne Harvey getting attacked and decided to bail in case she gave up this address to somebody?” Chase asked, flipping the light on as they walked down the narrow stairs to the basement of Bell’s home.
The basement was the only part of the house they hadn’t gone through yet, and Tate hoped they’d find something useful down here. Because the rest of the house had been a bust. Beyond the two toothbrushes in the bathroom, a closet full of clothes that wouldn’t have fit Bell, and several dozen banking documents with Mahsood’s name on them confirming he’d indeed lived here, they hadn’t discovered anything worthwhile. From the clothes hangers lying on the bedroom floor and dresser drawers half open, it looked like Mahsood had recently packed a bag and left in a hurry.
“It’s as good a guess as any,” Tate said. “Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. While I’m fairly confident we’re right about Mahsood being the real target here, nothing we’ve found tonight gets us any closer to him or Bell’s killer. For all we know, Mahsood may have already left the country. He has a history of doing that. Plus, with Bell gone, I can’t imagine where else a man like Mahsood could be hiding. He’s a doctor, not a spy. He doesn’t have the training to stay off the radar and survive for long.”
“Any chance he’s getting help from Rebecca?” Chase asked. “You said Mahsood has been on her payroll for a while.”
“Maybe.” Tate said. “He’s being hunted for damn sure, so it would make sense that he’d turn to the woman who’s been paying the bills for all these years. Hell, if it wasn’t for his relationship with Bell, I would have said that’s why Mahsood came back to Maine. Something doesn’t feel right about this.”
Tate did a double take when he reached the basement. The place wasn’t some kind of dank hole in the ground used for storing Christmas decorations and old magazines nobody had the heart to get rid of. Disappointingly, it also wasn’t any kind of hybrid lab either. There wasn’t a holding cell, hospital gurney, or tray of evil gleaming medical equipment in sight. Instead, Bell’s basement was a tidy office space. The walls were lined with metal shelving units filled with file boxes while an expensive desk and computer occupied the center of the room alongside a long table.
“What do you mean, doesn’t feel right?” Chase asked, glancing around.
Tate shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems to me if Rebecca was interested in
