Page 37 of Fatal Mistake
Rick nodded. “We’ve all got our incidents that we can’t shake. Most everyone in the military and law enforcement does.”
“And does it ever get in your way?”
“In the way like here on a mission?” He tapped his rifle. “Nah, I’m good to go on the job.”
“But it might affect your personal life?”
Rick went motionless, his fierce sniper gaze homing in on Cal. “Sounds like that’s what’s going on with you, but maybe it’s spilling over into the job, too.”
“It’s Tara,” Cal said before thinking it over. “Keeler’s killed women right under our noses, and man, that’s hitting me hard, you know? But him going after Tara? That’s different. We didn’t know the other women, but we know Tara, and we’re getting to know her better every day. If Keeler gets past us…gets to her…I…” He shook his head.
Rick arched a brow but said nothing. Cal had never seen Rick open up, and Cal should have thought of that before beginning the conversation. It was patently clear now that he’d chosen the wrong guy to talk to. He should have spoken to Shane instead. Better yet, he should keep his big mouth shut and his thoughts on the job.
“Never mind, man.” Cal picked up his gun. “I’ve got my head in the game, and you don’t need to worry about your back.”
“Team in position.” The SWAT commander’s voice came over Cal’s earbud.
“Roger that, we’re a go in five,” Cal replied, and looked at Rick, who gave his nod of readiness.
Cal shouldered a backpack of entry tools and lifted his weapon. They crept forward and reached the clearing where they bolted across the grass and flattened their backs against the wall on the porch. Cal dropped to his knees and slid a snake camera under the door to check for explosive devices or triggers Keeler might have rigged on the door.
“We’re clear,” Cal whispered, and tucked the camera into his vest. He fractured the door with a battering ram, sending the door swinging inward.
“FBI,” Rick called out as he entered.
Cal followed and surveyed the small room, noting a door to the bathroom. A small kitchen was located on one end of the room, an unmade bed on the other. A plump sofa and chair in the middle. No one in sight.
Rick signaled his plan to search the bathroom, and Cal covered him by standing at attention for an attack from any direction. Rick disappeared into the room, and soon the rings of a shower curtain grated along a rod.
“Clear,” Rick called out.
Cal approached the edge of the bed. Hoping to find Keeler hiding underneath, he dropped to the floor and lifted the dust ruffle. Empty, but on the far side between the bed and the wall, a bright ray of sun filtered through the white fabric ruffle, and his gut said someone was lying on the floor.
He came to his feet and signaled to Rick to cover him. Silently, Cal inched toward the foot of the bed. His heart racing with the thrill of the chase, he swung around the end and trained his weapon on the floor.
He exhaled, coming up short.
“What is it?” Rick asked.
Shaking his head, Cal eased closer and dropped to the ground next to a Caucasian woman who looked like she was in her early fifties.
Rick joined him. “Oh, man.”
“Man is right.” Cal laid his fingers aside her neck to check for a pulse, then sat back on his heels and looked up at Rick. “I was hoping to find someone here, but not a woman, and definitely not one who isn’t alive.”
“You think we were meant to find her?” Rick asked.
“Maybe.” Cal stood. “Or this place could be set to blow, maybe set to take us out, and we got here before the device detonated.”
“Your thoughts seem more on target.”
“Then let’s sweep this place and clear the exterior,” Cal replied.
They moved forward in silence and searched the small cabin, quickly determining that no threat existed inside.
“As much as I want to check for ID on the woman,” Cal said. “The exterior could be hot.”
Rick nodded and backed to the door.
