Page 49 of Now Until Forever
The woman spotted the two of them and pulled up short. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she just kind of crumpled to the floor in a heap.
Carlos trained his weapon. “I need to go in there. You grab her a blanket and check on Patience.” He turned to her. “Eliana?—”
“Got it,” she cut him off, then nodded. “I’m going.”
Nothing in the world would make her want to go inside their apartment. Not when she had no idea what Carlos was going to find. Even after the day he’d had, he still went into the apartment to find out what the source of all that blood might be.
Which was what separated her from the heroes.
She just wanted to crawl under the covers and cry until she fell asleep.
Eliana headed up one floor and found Patience’s door was ajar.
“Patience?” She eased it open, her heart pounding so loud she could hear her pulse in her ears. “Patience, I have your mail.”
PRIVATE INVESTIGATORS MISSING AS SEARCH EXPANDS INTO INTERIOR
Alaska State Dispatch — May 25
TALKEETNA, Alaska — Concern is mounting after private investigators Kenna Banbury and Oliver Jaxton were reported missing late Sunday evening while pursuing a lead connected to the Raven Killer case.
According to Alaska State Troopers, the couple’s RV was discovered abandoned near an unmaintained forestry access road approximately 18 miles outside Talkeetna. Their cell phones were found inside the vehicle. There were no immediate signs of a struggle.
Search and rescue teams, aided by K-9 units and aerial surveillance, have been combing the surrounding woodland for the past 48 hours. Weather conditions due to an approaching storm front have complicated the operation.
Before their disappearance, Banbury reportedly informed troopers that she believed the killer maintained a “primary site”—a private location where the tokens were carved and possibly where victims were first held.
Investigators have since confirmed the discovery of a partially concealed underground structure roughly two miles from where the RV was found. Inside, authorities located woodworking tools, unfinished raven carvings, and personal effects belonging to at least two victims.
No suspects have been publicly identified.
“This case just became significantly more urgent,” said Trooper Captain Elias Rowe. “We are now searching for both a serial offender and two missing investigators.”
Chapter Seventeen
Carlos looked at the woman on the floor—the same one he’d stopped from tumbling down the stairs. She didn’t move, and he had no idea how long she would be out. He left her where she was and nudged the apartment door open with his foot. The Dreamers’ apartment door eased open.
Carlos listened first, then took stock of what he saw and what he could smell. The lingering odor of Elysium intermingled with other things, like the musty undertone of a bathroom that needed to be cleaned, as well as the same musty odor that had clung to the woman the first day he saw her.
Whatever the relationship was between her and the bare-chested guy from the other day, he wasn’t going to judge. But he was going to do his job.
He announced himself without yelling, so as not to startle anyone. “Chicago PD.”
The woman had run out, clearly in distress. Covered in blood.
When no one called back, Carlos continued. Gun in his hands, tucked against his chest and pointed down to the left. He could fire in a swift movement, but meeting an innocent person head on wouldn’t land them in his sights before he had a moment to assess the situation first.
The first room on the left had a bare mattress, a twin with more stains than clean spots and a thin purple fleece blanket. Two open empty pizza boxes.
On the right, the narrow kitchen stretched away from him, with a small, cloudy window at the end, the glass yellowed by greasy smoke. Containers, cups and bowls, and trash littered the counters, and an open trash bag on the floor under the window had spilled some from being overfilled, inviting flies to the party.
He kept going down the hall, found the bathroom, and cleared it—without looking too closely. Past that was another room, a bedroom he supposed.
The living room had a battered recliner, currently occupied, and a folding camp chair. A small table that could serve as a TV tray. On the wall was a flat screen similar to his, with wires hanging down going to nothing. It probably wasn’t even connected to the internet, and he was honestly surprised they hadn’t sold it.
But that wasn’t what got his attention about the room.
The occupied recliner made Carlos pause. Bite his lip. Let out a breath.
