Rock Harbor Series - 03 - Into the Deep (34 page)

“Maybe.” Mason still sounded unconvinced.

“Cassie said she had to make good on this drug; otherwise they’d all be out of a job because the company was on shaky financial ground. Maybe Yancy saw sabotage as a way to get back at his wife and her new husband.”

“Seems pretty extreme.”

“He is a scuba trainer. He could have trapped Cassie in the ship and retrieved the file.”

“There are plenty more who know scuba in this town. What other motive could Yancy have to kill? Jealousy doesn’t sound like enough.”

“The money itself? Money can be a powerful motivator. Maybe he’s in financial trouble.”

“He makes good money as a researcher.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t spend everything he makes.”

“I can check that out,” Mason said.

“I want to follow him tonight,” Bree said.

Mason looked distressed. “I can’t come with you, Bree. Hilary is having a dinner party. Wait until tomorrow.”

“How about if I take Kade with me?”

“I’d rather go.”

Bree leaned forward. “I know this is it, Mason. And what if it’s tied in with Samson’s disappearance somehow?”

“We went in circles over this last night, Bree. What possible connection could Yancy have with your dog?”

“I don’t know. But I have to find out. I’m going crazy just searching the woods and getting nowhere. At least I’ll feel I’m
doing
something!”

“All right. But take your cell phone and call me if there’s the least hint of anything going down. I think you’re wasting your time though.”

“I know I’m right,” Bree said. “And I’m going to prove it tonight.” And she prayed that proof led to her dog.

Jonelle watched the darkening sky and chewed on her lip. She hated to see nightfall come. She knew what this night meant for that dog out there in the pen. All day long she’d tried to screw up her courage enough to let him go but couldn’t do it. Zane said their future was riding on this night. She couldn’t wreck it for him, much as she liked the dog.

Trucks began to pull into the yard around six. They came from as far away as New York and Maine. Big dualies trundled in, their massive tires sinking into the mud. Some bore deer antlers on their grills and carried high-powered rifles in a rack behind the seat. Some cars were sleek and shiny testimonies to their owners’ wealth. Many unloaded cages of snarling, barking dogs.

The stench and noise made Jonelle nauseated.

Zane’s face was exultant as he watched them come. “I told you this would be big,” he hissed to Jonelle. “We got plenty of food?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t just think so; make sure. If you need to make a run to town, do it now.” He jogged off to greet the visitors.

Jonelle turned and went into the kitchen, letting the back door slam for emphasis. A slave, that’s what she was. Just a slave. Do this, Jonelle, do that, Jonelle. When did she get to do the things
she
wanted to do? She was sick and tired of living this way. All she did was clean and cook. What kind of life was that?

She glanced around at the laden table. Ham sandwiches, mounds of potato salad, cookies galore. If this didn’t suit them, they could go to town. She wasn’t going to put herself out any more. She was done.

Stepping to the back porch again, she watched the people begin to file into the barn. Maybe Zane should have built a pen outside for this. She wasn’t sure the barn would hold everyone.

Her gaze was caught by a stern-faced man with two boys in tow. It never ceased to appall her that men brought their kids to watch this gruesome ordeal. Didn’t they care they were scaring their children, desensitizing them to cruelty? She wouldn’t let her child grow up like this. If Zane didn’t give it up after tonight, she would leave him.

Her heart constricted at the thought. Whatever Zane was, she loved him. Leaving him would be like cutting out part of her heart, but she’d do it if she had to. He wouldn’t let her go though. She was sure he would see the reason in it. He might be gruff, but he loved her.

The crowd’s excitement was palpable. Eyes glittered with avarice and bloodlust. She shuddered and tried not to touch anyone as she found her way to the pen. Bruck was already pacing the enclosure. He could smell the other dogs, sense the coming battles. His legs stiff, he growled as he pranced.

Jonelle’s gaze wandered the barn until she found the cage she was looking for. Samson. He raged around the cage, his eyes glazed with drugs. She wondered if he’d even know his owner if the search lady showed up. Zane had gone too far with the cocaine and steroids this time. She swallowed hard. If only she’d done something sooner. She could do nothing for him now. Nothing. He blurred in her vision as tears stung her eyes.

He and Bruck wouldn’t be the first dogs to fight. The lesser dogs would fight first until the crowd was howling for the highlight of the evening. And even before Bruck got to Samson, Zane intended some sport with the two smaller dogs he’d taken first. He’d want Bruck at a fever pitch before he turned him on Samson. Her hands shook as she grabbed a bucket and carried it to the cages. The dogs all needed to be well hydrated so they performed their best.

Bruck and Samson would be saved for the final show in about two or three hours, depending on how long it took to get through the rest
of the animals. Most of them looked ready to fight. Their teeth were bared as they paced their cages. Several snapped at her as she slid water dishes in to them.

Jonelle’s hands already bore the scars of other bites over the years. These dogs weren’t safe. None had touched her heart quite the way Samson did though. Her gaze went to him again. He was still watching her. Even drugged, he drew her. Samson wouldn’t run from a fight. It might be better if he did. He wouldn’t have a chance against Bruck.

“Let’s get started,” Zane shouted over the melee. “First up, we have Mickey from New York and Dixie from North Carolina.” The crowd roared with approval. “If you haven’t placed your bets yet, now’s the time. I’ll be at the table if you want to lay some money down. And if you haven’t bet on the big fight yet, let me draw your attention to Samson. You all know Bruck and his reputation. Samson is a new dog, but what a fighter! He’s heavy with muscle and has even defeated one of our North Woods wolves, so you know he’s a lean, mean fighting machine. I might lay some money on him against my dog myself.” His bragging about Samson had brought a murmur of excitement, and dozens of people crowded Samson’s cage to get a better look at Bruck’s challenger.

Jonelle knew he was gauging Samson wrong. Samson hated Zane, but he wasn’t a killer. Bile choked Jonelle’s throat. She told herself it was the heat and smell, not the thought of what lay ahead for Samson. But she couldn’t quite convince herself.

28

B
ree glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock. Lauri was with Davy and Timmy, who was spending the night for Davy’s birthday. The boys would be happy and content until she got back. But she had to do this tonight. She had to prove her certainty that Yancy was the guilty party before he harmed anyone else.

Kade drove his truck. He’d thought it might be less familiar to Yancy than Bree’s Jeep. They were parked in a pull-off down the street from Yancy’s house. The fading afternoon shadows hid them from view. A stiff breeze blew sand across the road.

“He’s leaving!” Bree leaned forward.

“I see him.” Kade started the truck. He waited until Yancy’s car turned left at the corner, then pulled out of their hiding place and followed.

“He’s probably just going to the store,” Bree said. Sure enough, Yancy turned in at the convenience store. He came back out in five minutes with a fistful of lottery tickets in his hand. Lottery tickets. Bree gasped.

“What?”

“I just remembered something Naomi told me. The first day she saw Marika, she was buying a bunch of lottery tickets. And Emily mentioned her mother took them to the bingo tables. What if gambling is the connection between Marika and Yancy?”

“Maybe. It’s worth telling Mason about. He’s probably already run a check on her, but give him a call.” Yancy’s car turned left and Kade followed, driving smoothly, well back from the car in front.

Bree dialed her cell phone and told Mason her suspicions. He confirmed he’d run a check on her, but only on her criminal record. He promised to have Deputy Montgomery run a check on her financial status.

Yancy turned left and took Jack Pine Lane out of town. “There’s nothing out here but wilderness and cabins,” Bree said.

“He has to be coming out here for a reason.”

“A dogfight?” Bree suggested, her heart surging at the thought of her dog.

“I hope not.”

“Me too. But I can’t get rid of this hunch that he’s linked to everything, including Samson’s disappearance.” Her cell phone trilled, and she grabbed it. “Bree Nicholls.”

It was Mason. “Bree, my deputy called with the report back on Yancy. He’s in hock up to his eyebrows. And get this: He charged twenty thousand dollars on his credit card at Vegas. I’d say he has a gambling problem.”

“Bingo,” she said softly. “Dogfighting.”

“Maybe.” He sighed heavily. “I wish I was with you. Call me if you get in trouble. Just don’t presume too much. And just watch. My deputies will come if you see anything.”

“He’s got my dog, Mason. I know he does. And I’m going to get him back.” She clicked off the phone and told Kade what Mason had said.

“Sounds like this could be it.”

“You sound doubtful. I’m sure of it, Kade.” Bree tried to quell her irritation. Why couldn’t everyone see it? It was clear as the sunny sky above Lake Superior.

“Don’t bite my head off. I’m trying to keep your feet on the ground.”

“I know exactly where my feet are planted,” she snapped.

He kept his gaze on the road.

A long, uncomfortable pause heightened her senses. After several minutes she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Kade reached out and squeezed Bree’s hand.

They drove on, staying a safe distance behind Yancy’s car. Yancy seemed oblivious to the fact that he was being followed. Soon the road changed to gravel in front of them, and Kade dropped even farther behind. “We don’t want to tip him off,” he said.

After about thirty minutes, the plume of dust from Yancy’s tires turned right. A long lane led into a thickly forested area. The woods swallowed up the car and the dust in its wake.

“This is it,” Kade said. “There’s a cabin back there. One of those survivalist sorts with no electricity or phone, though he has a generator for outside lights. He likes to be left alone. I wandered onto his property one day, and he ordered me off.”

“Did you leave?”

“Sure. It’s his property, not park property.”

“Maybe we should park somewhere and walk back,” Bree suggested.

Kade nodded. “I know a turnoff to the creek. We’ll leave the truck there.” He guided the vehicle into a lane barely wide enough for the truck and killed the engine.

Bree nodded and hopped out. She wouldn’t put it past some of the people who would go to a dogfight to vandalize his truck. She hoped Kade wouldn’t pay with his property for helping her tonight. Her heart was pounding like the surf in a Superior nor’easter. Was Samson down that lane? It was all she could do to fall in beside Kade and trudge through the brush with him when she wanted to run on ahead.

Her breath sounded loud in her ears as she gripped Kade’s hand and scurried through the thick brush. A sound began to drift through the trees, a roar of some kind. Bree couldn’t tell what it was. Then as she got closer, she realized it was a crowd. A raucous one.

She felt icy, nauseated when she realized what it had to be. “A dogfight,” she whispered to Kade.

“Yep.” He started jogging.

Bree clutched his hand and ran to keep up. Samson was in there.

Jonelle wanted to clap her hands over her ears. The roar of the crowd nearly deafened her. She glanced from face to face, searching for some scrap of decency in these people. All she saw were eager eyes and mouths shouting for blood. No pity there.

The winning dogs from the previous fights were being tended. Most of them suffered from bites and even broken bones. But what did the crowd care? They’d gotten their pound of flesh in the bodies of the vanquished dogs.

It was time for the big fight. Already in the pen, Bruck kept lunging at the cage containing Samson. Zane was grinning like an idiot, and Jonelle wanted to slap the smile off his face. He was looking forward to seeing Bruck kill Samson. But first he’d throw the little dogs in to Bruck as bait. Her husband would do anything to make sure Bruck lived up to his killing-machine reputation.

She couldn’t bear to watch. Not one more minute. Drawing air past her tight throat, she turned and pushed her way through the crowd. Bursting through the doors, she drew a deep breath of sweet, clear air, free of the taint of blood, sweat, and feces. She leaned against the barn until she could get enough strength to get to the house. It was sick. Why had she never before realized just how sick? How could she stay married to a man who took pleasure in so much violence? Even if he gave it up, she’d always remember it.

There had to be some cruel streak in people like that, some piece of their soul missing. And Zane was a ringleader. So what did that make her?

She straightened up and heard a sound. Rustling in the bushes to her left. She squinted and tried to see through the twilight made even darker by the thick trees. Through the gloom stepped two
figures. Probably more thrill seekers. But why were they moving so stealthily?

The motion-sensor lights detected their movement, and the sudden glare of light made them flinch. In that moment Jonelle recognized the woman and felt a stab of wild joy.

“Quick,” she panted. “You have to save your dog! In there!” She pointed toward the barn.

When Bree saw the woman step out of the shadows, her heart sank. But one look in her face, and she knew she had an ally. She raced toward the door the woman had pointed to.

Kade stopped her. “Wait! We have to call for backup.”

“There’s no time,” the woman insisted. “He’s about to go in the ring with the deadliest killer in the country.”