at the end of the Reconstruction Period in the South. She said her grandfather worked there, too, but after most of the meat packing business moved to the Stockyard area further southwest of Scranton Road. He remembered the details because his family connection to the area.
Nana loved talking about the family’s history so much she’d driven him down there while he was doing his research so he could see where his family made their living at the turn of the last century. Pride filled her voice when she spoke about the men making something of themselves in the business, starting at the cattle unloading docks and working their way up to foremen to provide for their families left an impression on him. He wanted her to be that proud of him.
Switching tabs on the laptop, he pulled up the electric company’s page. He prayed no one asked him how he got this information. Hacking into the electric company’s computers had wasn’t exactly legal.
Holy Shit! This place was using a crapload of electricity. Had been for nearly three years, according to the usage charts. This had to be the place Armbruster was using to at least store his victims like he had that Mia lady.
Aaron should have this information.
Kirk F glanced at the safehouse’s living room clock. Ten. Right now the two teams should be hitting the address and blood bank to arrest Armbruster. And it was almost time to pick up Nana from her bible study. He could just drive by Scranton Road on his way to get Nana, get a quick look at the building at the address listed and then let Aaron know what he found.
Yeah, he could do that. He wanted to be a cop. Might as well start acting like one.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing his coat. “I need to pick up Nana. I’ll be back after I get her home, okay?”
Katie looked up from where she was putting the gun back together after cleaning and oiling it. “Okay. Drive safe.”
Paula waved from the couch and he headed out the front door.
34
Brianna sat in the SUV anxiously watching the scene outside Armbruster’s dark home. Was he at home? In bed, sleeping peacefully? Or out hunting for another innocent victim to prey upon? Or perhaps laying in wait inside to kill anyone entering his lair?
Oh, dear lord, she sounded like a melodrama from the last century. And her worry was doing nothing but adding to her anxiety. Get a grip, girl. These guys are trained professionals.
She focused her gaze on Aaron and Carson, neither wearing tactical head gear like the SWAT team and going in behind the more experienced door breachers. She’d lowered the window on the door closest to the house just enough to hear what might be going on.
There was a loud bang and her heart skipped a beat. She realized the noise was from the big black cylinder ram she’d seen one of the SWAT team carry past her moments before hitting the door, then the group of armed police surged inside.
Straining to hear out the window, she prayed gunfire wouldn’t erupt inside the house.
The night was eerily silent.
The fast beat of her own pulse echoed in her ear.
Inside the house, waves of bright light from the SWAT team’s flashlights swung back and forth in the house’s main floor then up to the second level and finally down in the basement windows. Finally, lights came on inside the house and the porch light popped on. The SWAT team slowly emerged and she could see Aaron and Carson talking with one of the SWAT team members, probably their leader.
A few moments later Aaron and Carson disappeared back into the house and the SWAT leader made a bee line straight for the SUV. She lowered the window as he approached.
“Ma’am, Detective Jeffers has asked that you join him inside,” he said.
She grabbed her bag and climbed out, hitting the lock button on the extra key fob Aaron had given her. “I take it you didn’t find Armbruster inside the house?”
“No, ma’am. We’re going to clear out and let the locals assist the detective and FBI agent here,” the man said as he escorted her to the house, his weapon gripped easily at the ready. He stopped at the porch and waved down the street. One of the cruisers drove up and parked on the curb outside Armbruster’s home. “You can go in. I’ll stay here until the patrolman is in position.”
She thanked him and stepped inside the