Branded by Lust: 4 (Night Seekers) (16 page)

Logan stepped carefully around the tape outlining the body
and stood to the side away from the coroner who was doing his best to check out
the corpse and not lose his lunch. He studied the body, trying to figure out what
it was that bothered him. The images of his brother and sister-in-law were
indelibly burned into his brain and he’d studied all the pictures from the
three cases Night Seekers had worked so far.

What is it that’s off? What am I missing?

Then Rance Danvers moved up next to him, his face as pale as
an early moon.

“I agree with Ben,” he said. “I thought I’d come across
everything but I was wrong.” He wiped his face with a shaky hand. “Mother of
god.”

“What scares the shit out of me,” Ben added, “is if it—whatever
it
is—hadn’t been spooked by my horse, that could be me lying there.
Like that. My blood gone and my insides hanging out.” His face still had a
greenish tinge. “Damn.”

“You can see why we’ve been so concerned,” Rebecca put in.
“Normal protection doesn’t work where this creature is concerned. Neither do
your usual hunting methods.”

Danvers nodded at the body. “Jade’s shotgun is lying right
next to her. Looks like she dropped it when she was attacked. Why in hell
didn’t she just shoot the fucker?”

“Because,” Logan said, “as far as we’ve been able to figure
out, the time between when the beast confronts the prey and when it attacks is
not more than a second. Not to mention the shock factor playing into it. My
guess is she opened the door for some reason, the devil beast was right there
and then it was on her.”

“Logan tried to warn her,” Rebecca told Danvers. “When we
ran into her in town and discovered she was staying in her folks’ house he told
her she might be in danger. We even stopped by on the way home last night so he
could tell her again.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Jade usually did the opposite
of what anyone told her. Don’t beat yourself up about it. She always thought
she was invincible. Or untouchable. I’m not sure which.” He looked at Logan. “If
I remember, the two of you had something going at one time.”

“Something,” Logan agreed. “Probably not as much as she
would have liked. We didn’t part on the best of terms before she left Montana.”

“She certainly seemed friendly when we ran into her.” Rebecca
had trouble keeping the sarcastic edge out of her voice.

Logan’s laugh held little humor. “I have to agree she was a
little aggressive. She didn’t want to take no for an answer. But I certainly
wouldn’t wish this on her.”

“Not much chance of keeping this quiet anymore,” Logan
pointed out.

“No kidding, But I’m going to keep a lid on as much of it as
I can. We need something plausible to tell people and at the same time get them
to take our warnings seriously.” He sniffed the air. “Notice that funny smell?”

“Of course. It’s like turpentine.”

“The same odor has been in the air at every other scene,”
Rebecca told him.

”You think it’s coming from the creature?”

“Without a doubt,” Logan answered. “The man funding our
operation has scientists doing thorough autopsies on every beast we’ve killed
so far but they tell us the odor disappears with death. None of them have
caught a whiff of it.”

“This is like something out of a science fiction movie,” the
sheriff commented.

Logan grunted. “Tell me about it.”

“Sheriff?”

They all turned as one of the deputies climbed the two steps
to the porch.

“What did you find?” Danvers asked him.

The man had a perplexed look on his face. “Charlie and I
both looked all around the house, in the back and into that bunch of trees but we’re
stumped.” He shook his head. “There’s not one damn track anywhere. Nothing.
Whatever kind of animal killed Miss Robinson didn’t leave any tracks at all.
Not one.”

The sheriff stared at him. “Are you kidding me? That’s
impossible. Maybe you guys tromped all over them with your big feet. Go look
again.”

“Rance?” Logan put out a hand and touched the sheriff’s arm.
“They aren’t kidding.”

“There weren’t any tracks when this creature showed up
outside my barn either,” Ben broke in.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“No tracks?” Danvers said at last. “You mean…nothing?”

Ben shook his head. “By the time I got my heart started
again and went outside the barn to look there wasn’t a damn trace of it
anywhere. The snow was totally pristine. No tracks at all.” He lifted his hat
and scratched his head. “There was something though.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“This will sound crazy but I thought I smelled, well,
turpentine.”

“Hey, sheriff,” the deputy interrupted. “We thought we
smelled it too. All the way from the house to the trees.” He shook his head. “I
was afraid to mention it. Thought you’d think we were crazy. Especially since
we couldn’t find any trace of whatever this is.”

“That goes along with all the other scenes,” Logan said.
“All the reports we have, all the ones we’ve visited in person right after a
fresh kill. The odor of turpentine hung in the air. Barely discernable, but it
was there.”

“Well shit.” Danvers rubbed his hand over his face. “What
the fuck do we have here anyway?”

“Nothing like you’ve ever seen before,” Logan said. “Listen,
Rance. Remember that artist we used to borrow from the Montana Department of
Justice? They had someone who lived in Kalispell who worked with the sheriffs’
departments in that part of the state. You know, the sketch artist?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. They lent him to us a few times so we
could get a description from a witness. I’ve got the number to call in my
office.”

“Think they’d let you borrow him to work with Ben?”

Danvers eyes widened. “You think anyone would believe what
he described actually exists?” he asked.

“I saw it,” Ben said in a harsh tone. “I can promise you it
damn well does exist.”

“Call and see if we can get him,” Logan urged.

“And it’s a her.”

“Excuse me?”

“The artist is a woman. A female. Whatever. Anyway,” the
sheriff protested, “no one will believe it if we try to show it around.”

Logan tamped down his irritation. “I don’t plan on giving it
to the general population. One of the reasons I want it is to compare it to the
photos we have of the previous creatures we’ve killed. The lab took a number of
shots and we discovered that each creature had a slightly altered appearance.
Almost as if whoever is doing this continues to work at improving the hellish
creation.”

Is that what bothers me? Damn it all, anyway.

“Jesus,” Danvers swore softly.

“Also I think your men need to see for themselves what we’re
up against. This is the second kill. I’d like to get in front of this before we
have victim number three.”

“All right.” Danvers sighed. “Let me get back to the office
and make the call. Ben, give me your number. I’ll text you as soon as I’ve got
it set up.”

“I’d like to take some pictures,” Logan said. “To send back
to my team. They can compare them with all the others we’ve got. See if there’s
anything new to add. Anything that’s changed.”

“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll take any help I can get.”

“Make sure your techs photograph everything in the
surrounding area too. You never know what might turn up. I can send those back
to my home base too. We’ve got some new high-tech equipment and Ric Garza—one
of our team—is dying to test out the new software.”

“Yeah?”

“Supposedly,” Logan explained, “it can take existing facts
and predict pretty close to the area where the Chupacabra will strike next.
We’re also hoping to analyze an existing case to find someone who’s missing.”

“Good luck with that.” Ford Randolph walked up from the
stand of trees where he’d been watching two deputies at work. “We have trouble
when it’s a normal missing persons case. If it’s tied in with this crazy shit I
don’t know what all you’ll find.”

“Neither do we,” Logan told him. “But we’re going to give it
our best shot.”

“You’ll share whatever you get?”

Logan nodded. “Of course. We’re here so all of us can work
together on this.”

He pulled out his cell phone and began taking pictures—of
the body, the back of the house, the area around the house. He added pictures
of the ponderosa pines, even panoramic shots of the entire area in back of the
house. Finally he walked back to where everyone was still standing.

“We’ll have a panic when word of this gets out,” Danvers was
saying to his men. “We have to find a way to contain it.” He turned to Logan.
“Are you both up to a closed-door meeting at my office? I want everyone who’s
here at the scene so we can figure out the best way to keep a lid on this.” He
looked at Ben. “That should probably include you too. You available?”

“I am,” Ben agreed.

“All right then.” He looked around at the activity. “An hour
work for you all?”

Everyone nodded.

Logan headed back to his truck with Rebecca, Ben a step or
two behind them.

“I want to send these pictures back to my home base,” he
told Ben. “Want to follow us back to my house? I’m going to do FaceTime with
the team there. I can introduce you. Let them know you’re helping too.” He
grinned. “And how.”

“Thanks, but are you sure it’s okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Rebecca asked. “Every case we’ve had
so far has added people to the team.”

“Just checking. I don’t want to push myself into something.”

“Don’t worry,” Logan told him. “We want your input. And help.”

“Then yes, I’ll follow you back to your place. I want to be
of any help I can. And I can’t help but be curious about your team.”

* * * * *

Ric Garza was in the kitchen of Desolation Ranch getting a
fresh cup of coffee when Dante Mortello called out to him.

“Ric. You better get your ass back in here. Logan’s on the
horn.”

Dante had been at the big equipment bank monitoring incoming
messages and reports and watching the scrolling of information searches while
Ric took a break. Garza, a former Texas Ranger, was their resident computer
expert. He’d set up programs to tap into databases all over the country,
searching for similar crimes as well as any scrap of information on other
Chupacabra incidents and sightings. That meant someone was in the monitor seat at
all times.

“Is he on the secure phone?” Garza sat the mug of hot liquid
down on the extension next to his keyboard.

Every member of the team had been given secure cell phones
encrypted as tightly as those used by the military and the CIA. Craig Stafford
had both the money and the clout to obtain anything and he used them freely.

“No.” Dante shook his head. “He sent an instant message. I
wanted to wait for you to open it.”

Dante slid his chair sideways so Ric could pull his regular
chair in front of the console.

Dante watched as Ric’s fingers flew first over the
regulation keyboard, opening the link for FaceTime. Then he swiped the image to
the huge wall monitor connected to the iMac. When he was ready he clicked again
on the IM icon.

“All set,” he typed. “Go ahead.”

In seconds Logan’s face appeared on the oversized screen.
Behind him Ric could make out partial shapes of two other people. One he knew
would be Rebecca, but who the hell was the other one?

Logan grinned at him. “Miss my ugly face?”

“Nah.” Ric gave him an answering smile. “We were kind of
hoping you’d stay up there for a while.” Then he sobered. “What have you got?”
Because Logan wouldn’t have asked for this if he didn’t have something new to
discuss.

“We have another victim.”

“Damn.” Ric clenched his fist. He hated to hear this.

“The body happens to be of someone I know—knew. When I lived
here before.” His face was an impassive mask but Ric knew he couldn’t help but
be affected by it. First his brother and sister-in-law, now a former friend.

“Pictures?” he asked.

“You should have them already.”

Ric nodded at Dante. “Pull up the photostream, would you?
And download the latest shots.”

“Something else,” Logan said. “We have someone who has
actually seen the devil beast and not been attacked by it.”

Ric’s hands froze on the keyboard. “What? How is that
possible?”

“I’ll let him tell you. Ric Garza, meet Ben Crater.”

Logan moved aside and Ben’s dark, lean face appeared.

“Hope you don’t mind my crashing the party.” His mouth
curved in a sardonic grin. “Although party might not be quite the appropriate
word in this case.”

“Logan said you’ve seen the Chupacabra,” Ric prompted.

“So it seems.” Ben scraped his hand over his face, disbelief
still evident in his expression. “I still can’t wrap my mind around it.
Nightmare doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Why don’t you just describe what happened,” Ric prompted,
“and we’ll take it from there.”

Every member of the team watched, bodies tense, as Ben
related the story of the apparition in his barn, what it looked like.

“I’ll tell you this.” He dragged his fingers through his
close-cropped hair. “I did three tours with the Marines in Afghanistan and Iraq
and there were plenty of times when my guts were twisted in a knot. Times I
wasn’t sure I’d live to see another minute. But I don’t ever remember being
scared like this.”

Jonah Grey leaned forward from his place behind Ric. “I can
tell you that those of us who have seen it also feel the same way. It’s the
spawn of Satan.”

“You have to know how damn lucky you are,” Ric added.

“I do. And believe me, I take very good care of Soldier.
He’s my version of the garlic clove that wards off vampires.”

Logan moved into the field of vision again. “We’re going to
have Ben work with a sketch artist, guys. Ric, we’ll transmit it to you as soon
as we have it so you can compare it to the photos you’ve got.”