Hide & Seek - Nicole Edwards Page 0,89
ceiling. It looked as though the detective had sound-proofed the space. Probably to ensure no one heard them. The flooring had been ripped out, leaving only stained and scarred plywood beneath. A sink with a dripping faucet sat just out of their reach. The bathtub didn’t appear to work. Based on how frail the women had been, it was likely he fed them just enough to keep them alive.
“How were they when you found them?” Brantley asked.
“They were chained to the beds.” He motioned to one of the four beds. “Jody was trying to hide, crouched between the bed and the wall, Debbie was unconscious, and Maria was awake but not lucid. Naked and terrified. Battered. Beaten. Drugged.”
“But alive,” Brantley said, his voice low, reassuring. “They’re alive, Reese.”
Yes, they were. Three of them, anyway. As for whether they would be happy about that, he didn’t know. They’d been through a horrific ordeal, something they would live with for the rest of their lives. They would see this in their nightmares. God knew he would.
“This is where the smell’s comin’ from,” Brantley noted.
Yeah. Reese figured they hadn’t seen soap and water the entire time they’d been here. Probably not much food either.
“We need to get home,” Brantley finally said after they’d stood there for several minutes.
Reese looked over at him. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“No. It’s just where we need to be.”
Reese nodded, understanding. There wasn’t anything they could do here, and the DPD was competent enough to handle the rest. Since this was an internal matter, it would require some finessing on their part. One of their own detectives was a serial killer.
Fortunately, he was no longer.
They arrived back in Coyote Ridge at seven that night. It had been a long day, but even as exhaustion set in, Reese found himself revived the instant Tesha came running at him when they pulled into the drive.
“Looks like someone’s happy to see you,” Brantley said as he put the truck in park. “You spend some time with her. I’ll take our shit inside.”
Reese didn’t argue, hopping out of the truck and going to his knee as Tesha all but barreled into him, head-butting his hand for a scratch.
“You miss me, girl?”
Tesha hopped and pawed, yipping a couple of times.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you speak.” Getting to his feet, he headed to the backyard, snatching up one of the tennis balls along the way. He lobbed it in the direction of the barn, watched as the dog took off after it.
“Hey,” JJ greeted, stepping out of the barn with Baz and Trey behind her. “Y’all made it.”
Reese nodded, watched as Tesha pranced around the ball, picking it up, dropping it again. “We did.”
“You okay?”
“Will be.”
“Anything you need us to do?”
He shook his head. What he needed was some quiet. Some alone time with Brantley where neither of them had to puzzle through information. One night. That was what he needed to regroup. Tomorrow he’d be back to normal.
“All right, then. We’re gonna say hi to Brantley, then head out.”
“Talk to you tomorrow,” Baz said, following her.
Trey stopped at his side, slapped a hand on his shoulder, then squeezed. “Y’all did good.”
“We,” Reese corrected. “We couldn’t’ve done it without you, Trey.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” Trey smiled. “But I’ll take it.
When he was alone, Reese took a seat on the steps of the back deck. The sun had dipped below the horizon, the twilight beginning to fade into darkness. None of that mattered because the LED spotlights mounted on the house and the barn lit up with motion, so it was almost as though it was daytime.
“Well, that’s new,” Reese said when Tesha trotted over and dropped the ball at his feet.
Reese had to lean forward to get it, but he did, sending it out into the yard again. Once more, Tesha returned with it, dropping it and waiting.
And that set the tone for the next half hour. Tesha would take a break every so often, wandering around the yard, drinking from the water bowl sitting on the deck. All the while, Reese remained where he was, the images of the day running through his head on a loop. Those women, the detective. He had asked Special Agent Hillary Jones, the one overseeing the case for the FBI, to let him know how the women were doing. She had confirmed that she would be delivering the news to Shelly Masters’s family herself. As for the survivors, Jones had texted him a short time