The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(71)

Vail watched as Morales did a knock and notice—he banged on the door, announced who they were and that they were going to enter. Almost immediately, an officer released a couple of flash bangs on either end of the house. The mini-explosions were concussive, designed to induce fear and overwhelm the occupant—lead him to believe that an army was about to storm the place.

And that was not far from the truth, because in the next instant a breach specialist swung his battering ram and blasted the front door in. They tossed in a gas canister and entered.

A few minutes later, Curtis came up alongside Vail. “I don’t hear anything.”

“You won’t. They’re looking for a barricaded suspect, so they’re not gonna be shouting to one another as they clear rooms like we do. Everything’s done with low whispers and hand signals. That way they can also pick up any movement from the suspect—or hostage. Sometimes when they enter a room, they cover the angles and hold for several minutes in silence. Listening for movement.”

Curtis eyed her. “How do you know so much about it?”

I’m part of a black ops team. “Read an article.”

She checked her watch and waited. It was going to be awhile before they could get their hands on Gaines.

RAMOS, CURTIS, AND VAIL ENTERED FIRST, followed by Hurdle, Walters, Morrison, and Tarkoff. Hundreds of brass shell casings littered the granite floor and the smell of munitions hung in the air.

“Where’s our suspect?” Hurdle asked.

Morales shifted his MP5 to the left, across his shoulder. “No one was in the house.”

“No one—” Vail swung her gaze around the main floor. “We had the entrances and exits covered. How the hell did he get out?”

“Follow me.”

Morales led Vail, Curtis, and Hurdle down to a finished basement, a large open room with sports loungers and a sixty-inch LED television with surround speakers mounted on the ceiling and walls.

“Got his assault rifle, though.”

“He left it behind?” Curtis asked.

“Found it down here,” Morales said as his tactical boots gripped the tile floor. “When we breached the door, he needed to get out fast. As soon as you see what I’m about to show you, you’ll understand.”

They moved left past a pool table and stopped at a closed door. Morales pushed it open and they filed in.

“Laundry,” Hurdle said.

What gave it away? Washing machine? Or the dryer? Vail walked in farther and examined the long and narrow area, which seemed to run at least half the length of the house. Above her were two windows. One of them was unlocked. “You saying he went out through here? We had guys on both sides of the exterior.”

“First clue was that we found the rifle right where you’re standing. Second clue was—well, take a look.”

She climbed up onto the washing machine and peered into the yard. Stands of pine, hemlock, cedar, and cypress stared back at her, a melting layer of snow blanketing its floor. It’s like a friggin’ forest back here. “What am I missing?”

“Over here.” Morales moved several feet deeper into the room. “I think the unlocked window was a ruse. Or it could’ve been accidently left like this by the homeowner and Gaines had nothing to do with it.” He pulled open a cabinet door and gestured them over. “I was referring to this. Rex sniffed it out.”

Vail jumped down off the appliance, turned on her phone’s flashlight, and peered in. “Gaines made a tunnel? Are you kidding me?”

“Wish I were. I’ve only seen this twice before, in all my years with SWAT.”

Vail stuck her head in. “Where does it lead?”

“Go in, take a look.”

Vail snorted as she drew back. “Uh, no thanks. I don’t get along well with tight spaces.” And this is one time when I can say no.

“I’ll go,” Curtis said as he turned on his iPhone light and climbed in. “I’ve gotta see this.”

He got in about five feet before he backed out. “Okay, I’ve seen enough. Nothing elaborate, barely enough room to fit a body. Tell ya, if I wasn’t claustrophobic before, this could definitely make me catch it.”

“It’s not a contagious disease,” Vail said.

“Whatever. I’m not going all the way through.”

“No need,” Morales said. “One of our guys took off all his gear and went in. There are some wood planks to shore up the walls. Comes out just past the property line, twelve feet northwest, in the dense trees.”

“That’s why he didn’t take the rifle with him. Hard enough to get a body through.” Hurdle crouched down and took a look for himself. “He really built a tunnel?”

“He’s been here for—who knows. Several months?” Curtis said, dusting off his hands. “Maybe he got bored.”

Hurdle shook his head. “Think like a criminal, Curtis. He must’ve known Marcks’s escape plans and he dug the tunnel because Marcks was planning to spend some time here. We come knocking, he’d have an escape route.”

“Probably took him … what, a few days? A week? To clear twelve feet of dirt?” Curtis said. “But he’d need help, someone to haul off the buckets of soil as he went.”

“Could’ve been Scott MacFarlane,” Vail said.