Page 12 of Shadow of Death
“Right,” Amy promised. “Oh! I came in the ambulance—”
“Gotcha. Go down to the entrance. We have a couple of agents headed to the hospital to watch over Carey—just in case someone really wanted her dead and finds out she didn’t obligingly die down there. Cassidy and Cromwell. I’ll let them know one of them needs to stay, and one needs to drop you back off at the caves.”
“Thank you,” Amy said.
Ending the call, she continued on down, dialing Hunter once again.
Her call went straight to voice mail.
“Where are you?” she muttered to the phone.
Of course, it gave her no answer.
Reaching the front of the hospital, she had no difficulty discerning the vehicle that belonged to the men Andy had sent, Cassidy and Cromwell. One of them remained behind the wheel of a black SUV while the other stood by the side, waiting. He was in a simple black suit but to Amy the suit along with the vehicle shrieked FBI. She thought he was about forty, a solid man, just slightly graying, who appeared to be pure muscle.
“You’re Special Agent Amy Larson, FDLE,” the man said.
“I am. Special Agent Cassidy—or Cromwell?” she asked.
“Cromwell. Cassidy is behind the wheel, and he’ll get you back to the caves. You’d best be advised, though, even with the lights our teams have up, it’s getting dark. And the terrain in that area—caves, waterfalls, cliffs—can be dangerous in the dark at the best of times.”
“I’ll be careful,” Amy promised.
He was studying her, she knew. She was about five-ten and made a point of keeping fit. Amy had heard that in later years the FBI had recruited more female agents, so she didn’t think his concerned perusal had to do with her gender—but rather the fact she wasn’t FBI at all. In fact, she was FDLE on loan from the state of Florida.
She smiled. “Trust me, there are connections here, and I know the connections. No, I haven’t spent a lot of time climbing cliffs, but I swim like a son of a gun, and I am a crack shot.”
Cromwell smiled. “Sorry. It’s just... Wow. Hard to talk anymore without worrying that... I am not coming on to you, I swear it. I’m not trying to be out of line. You must be aware you’re very attractive and...feminine and you’re not from here, so...”
Amy laughed. “It’s okay. And thank you. Please trust me. I’m pretty good at what I do.”
He grinned and nodded. “Okay, then. I’m going on in to keep our girl company.” He stuck his head back into the vehicle for a minute. “Hey, Cassidy! I’m going to need coffee in a bit so get back here after dropping off Special Agent Larson!” He grinned at Amy again, opening the passenger side door for her. “He’s a newbie. Gotta give him a little grief.”
Amy nodded and slid into the SUV. She glanced at Cassidy and said, “Hello, and thank you.”
“No problem,” Cassidy said, smiling. He was young, Amy thought, in his midtwenties to maybe thirty, tops. He continued with, “Cromwell will be sending me for coffee all night! Thinks it’s his duty to make sure I understand the hierarchy. He’s a good guy, though. I’m glad to be partnered with him. So.” He frowned slightly, glancing at her before shifting the SUV into gear. “We’re being briefed and brought up to speed on all this. Someone out there is trying to bring on the Apocalypse?”
“Step by step,” Amy said. “And figuring out each play... Well, everything changes constantly.”
“Right. We’ve been told there will be a meeting in the morning. You and Special Agent Forrest are to head up the investigation. Though...is this the investigation? Did Carey Allen stumble into that pit—and ruin the whole thing for whoever it is who thinks he’s representing the black horse in the whole Revelations thing? I mean, is someone really a religious fanatic, or...just someone who likes to see people die, and thinks playing with passages in the Bible is a cool way to make that happen?”
“We don’t know.”
“I thought you’d been on two previous cases—”
“We were. But we don’t have all the answers. We thought we were done once—then we received a little red horse. This time...a little black horse.”
“I started doing some research. Have to admit, I didn’t go to any kind of religious school and skipped Sunday school a lot! But scholars suggest the scales carried by the rider of the black horse indicate famine. So...is that why the victims in the pit were starved? Left to dehydrate and starve?”
“In someone’s sick mind—or calculating mind—sure. Some people suggest it’s the weighing of sins against decency and a man’s—or woman’s—good deeds. We don’t know what we have going on yet. We don’t know anything at all.”
“But you’ve been asked back,” Cassidy said. “Not just by the FBI. But by the killer or killers themselves.”
She glanced at him, smiling. “You must know many a criminal has such an ego that he or she thinks it’s fun to tease law enforcement.”
“Yeah, you’re right. So we need to be smarter! And take your time getting out—let me know if I can do anything else. I’m not in any hurry,” Cassidy said.
“Gotta find my partner,” Amy said. “But thank you.”
