Into the Night(55)

Bowen shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

Tucker’s jaw had clenched. “The videos. The bugs. He’s learning his prey. Learning the secrets out there. What if...what if he did the same thing with Daniel Haddox? With Patrick Remus? He watched, he listened...and he learned their secrets, one by one, before he decided it was time for them to die.”

“We didn’t find any surveillance equipment at Haddox’s place...”

“Was the crime scene team even looking? We almost missed them here! They were so small, we had to do three sweeps to find them.” He nodded. “What if the crime team didn’t see them the first time? Or maybe the perp took them after he killed Daniel? He could have cleaned up after himself. We know that’s what he does—he’s so good at leaving a clean crime scene. He could have taken the devices with him.”

Bowen considered the idea. “He had the bugs there, so he knew when Haddox killed Gale Collins.”

“Yes...he was watching, listening. He’d found Haddox and he wanted to watch his prey.”

Bowen hissed out a hard breath. “If that’s the case, then the guy would have needed to be watching Haddox for a while. He would have known who the guy truly was...and the woman the Doctor sliced and tortured... Our perp let Gale die.”

Tucker’s hard gaze held his. “Yes.”

Bowen’s mind was spinning. “We need a team to sweep the captain’s office again. This bastard...he could have his eyes everywhere.” But then Bowen shook his head. “Not everywhere. There’s no way he could have gotten a signal transmitted from Curtis Zale’s cabin. The place is too remote. I didn’t even have cell service up there. We needed the ranger’s radio to get backup.”

“Then maybe he used the apartment Zale had in town. A team is there now.” Tucker pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell them what to search for. If we get a hit on a listening device at even one more location, then that’s another piece of the puzzle for us.”

It meant their killer watched his prey first. Watched and learned.

It also meant...

He hasn’t just been calling me to jerk me around. The guy is after me. I could be his next target.

*

MACEY WAS BACK in the ME’s office. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she hurried into the lab. The place was cold as ice—always was. And the scent of antiseptic was strong. “Dr. McKinley!” Macey called out. She rounded the corner and saw him at his desk. He’d been leaning forward, his head slumped into his hands, but at her call, he straightened quickly.

She went closer to him and could have sworn that over the heavy odor of antiseptic that clung to the air, she caught the scent of...

“Have you been drinking?” Macey asked him quietly.

Shamus McKinley swallowed, and then he rose to his feet. He was a bit unsteady, and his gaze darted to her, then away. “I think...I think Dr. Lopez will be arriving any moment. I’m just waiting for her.”

Macey paced closer. She saw the open drawer of his desk and the scent of alcohol grew stronger. Her lips thinned. “I need you sharp on this case. We can’t afford screwups.”

He raked his hand over his face. “My friend is on a slab in the back. He is right there—”

Macey touched his shoulder. “You need to go home for the day, Dr. McKinley.”

His lower lip trembled. “I need to help him. Some bastard put nails into his hands. Some bastard—”

“I can’t have you working on this case when you’re compromised.” She kept her voice soft. Sympathy pushed through her. She could see his pain. “I need you to go home. Go home, grieve, take some time and just...get yourself together.”

His eyes closed. “I’ve been sober for ten years. Ten long years...and now this.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Do you have a sponsor you can call?”

He nodded once, grimly.

“Then do it. I’ll stay here and meet Dr. Lopez. You come back tomorrow, and we’ll hit the ground running, okay? But...go home now.”

“I’ve fucked up.”

“You’re human,” she told him. “And you’re in pain. You need to get out of here.” And not stay with the dead.

He nodded and Macey helped him collect his things. A few moments later, Shamus was gone, and she was left in the too cold and cavernous lab.

Macey reached for a pair of gloves. She slid them on and then headed over to the storage lockers. She pulled in a deep, steadying breath, and then she opened the second locker. Captain Henry Harwell’s locker, according to the label. She pulled out the slab and then carefully unzipped the body bag.

His skin was dark, bruising near the top of his forehead. She leaned in closer, examining that bruise, and then she turned his head, studying the wound at the back of his head. A rough circle. She measured the diameter of it...and then the diameter of a similar wound on the side of his head.

A hammer. He used a hammer on your head. The same hammer he used to put those nails into you?

She straightened her shoulders.

And all of the lights went out in the lab. Macey was plunged into complete darkness.

What in the hell?

She paused a moment, thinking that a generator would kick back on. There had to be a generator in this place, right?

She could hear the hum from the storage lockers, so they were still getting power. But...