Brody maintained his focus on the building. Though the evening was cool, sweat dripped down Matt’s back and soaked his shirt at the base of his spine. Bree pulled her baton from her belt and used the butt to break a pane of glass. She reached through and unlocked the door. Leading with their weapons, they went through the doorway. A compact SUV and a large pickup truck shared the space. Collins peered in the truck cab. Juarez circled the SUV.
At the same time, Bree dropped to one knee and checked under the vehicles.
Matt glanced over the side of the truck bed. A tarp was thrown into the corner. It was too flat to conceal a person. There was nowhere else to hide.
The dog tugged on the leash, and Matt followed him. Limping slightly, Brody trotted to the back of the pickup and whined softly.
Matt read the license plate. “Dylan’s truck.”
Bree gestured to the SUV. “And this is Stephanie Crighton’s vehicle.”
Standing on his hind legs, Brody sniffed at the tailgate. Matt held him back and waved Juarez toward the truck bed. “Let’s see what’s under the tarp.”
Juarez pulled up the tarp and shone a flashlight into the bed. Then he uttered one word. “Blood.”
Matt scanned the grooved metal. There was much more blood than the spots they’d found in Shane Bartholomew’s pickup. Dark streaks ran from the middle of the bed to the tailgate, as if a bleeding Todd had been dragged out. Outrage and dismay churned in Matt’s gut.
Not enough blood to assume Todd had died.
But there was no proof he was still alive either.
“Are we assuming it’s Todd’s blood?” Collins asked, her face grim.
Matt glanced down at Brody. The dog was focused and agitated. “Yes. Trust the dog. He has senses you can’t even comprehend.”
Todd was one of the good guys. He didn’t deserve to be beaten and hauled around like a slab of meat.
Or worse.
Brody walked the perimeter of the garage, then he pulled toward the back door. Todd wasn’t here any longer. The dog wanted to get back to work. Matt let him lead the way. Bree and her deputies followed as they left the garage.
A gentle breeze stirred branches overhead. The dog paused and sniffed a circle.
“Is he following the scent in the air or on the ground?” Collins asked.
“Either. Both.” Matt and Brody enlarged the circle, spiraling outward. “K-9s track scent cones in the air. Scent concentrates at the tip of the cone. The dogs also follow the microscopic skin cells everyone sheds constantly. There isn’t much wind, and it just shifted. Give him a minute. He’ll reorient himself.”
Again, Brody ignored the house. Matt would have bet a million dollars Todd had never been inside it.
The lots were large on this side of the lake. This house was elevated to take advantage of the views. A long, sloping back lawn the size of a football field led down to the water. A dock extended out over the lake. A long sailboat bobbed at the end of the dock. Next to it, a smaller motorboat was tied. Moonlight shimmered on the water’s glassy surface.
Brody pulled toward the dock. Matt had no doubt Dylan and Stephanie had headed for the boat. Grey Lake was miles long and deep in places. Bodies had been pulled from its waters in the past. Swimmers who’d drowned . . .
Murder victims.
“Stop!” Bree’s quiet command halted the procession. “I see movement on the dock.”
Matt squinted into the darkness. The moon cast enough light that he could discern two shapes.
Had their small rescue party been heard?
Brody’s front feet danced. Matt put a hand to his head to shush the whine he sensed was coming. The wind died, and the night was too quiet. Sneaking up on the dock wouldn’t be easy.
They eased into the shadow of the big oak. In order to get to the dock—and the boats—they would have to cross a hundred yards of open ground. Were the people on the dock watching? Were they armed?
Matt considered simply turning Brody loose. The dog could cover the distance faster than any man, but he could also get shot. And he was favoring his shoulder. Probably hurt it jumping out of the SUV. It wasn’t likely he’d be able to jump onto a moving boat.
One of the figures leaped onto the motorboat. The other moved around on the dock.
Shit.
“They’re casting off.” Matt knew he wouldn’t be able to catch the boat before it pulled away. Brody leaned into the leash. Matt held him back. The dog would alert Dylan and Stephanie to the presence of law enforcement. If Todd was still alive, that could put him in jeopardy. They might kill him immediately. Matt glanced at Bree.