Page 49 of Finding English

Henry was moving down the main street knowing this part of town well from summers spent in Texas. As the three men walked with caution following Will’s instructions, Henry checked his firearm, ensuring the clip was in. He wouldn’t be caught out this time, not with Cassie at risk.

Calder glanced at Jack. “You armed?”

“Always.”

Henry knew that to be true. He also knew Jack was beating himself up over this but now wasn’t time to soothe his wounds.

“Up ahead there’s an abandoned restaurant. He went in there through a side door down the ally. Cassie seems to be conscious but isn’t walking right. My guess is he’s given her something to make her comply.”

“Good copy, Will,” Jack answered.

The men stopped two buildings back, not knowing if Bunce had anything rigged. To go barging in could get Cassie killed.

Henry was good at his job, but in this he was out of his depth and knew it, so he turned to Jack. “Now what?”

Jack looked at him rolling his lips inward, his brow tense. “We should wait for Cruz and back-up.” Jack turned to Calder. “How far out is he?”

“Twenty minutes on a good day but there’s an accident on the highway and they had to divert, so probably thirty minutes.”

“That’s too long. He could do anything to her in that time.” Henry was desperate to rush in there.

Jack laid a firm hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be a dick. We can do this, but you have to follow my orders or it won’t work.”

“Fine, what the plan?”

“I’m going to scout around and see if I can find a way in or see what’s happening. I need you to wait here with Calder.”

Henry didn’t like it, but he bit his tongue to stop himself from arguing, dipping his head in assent instead.

Jack disappeared down the ally, and in moments it was as if he wasn’t there, like the ghost his company name suggested.

Henry waited with his gut in his throat, his blood pressure spiking with every second that passed with no word or sound from inside. His imagination was running the horrific gamut of scenarios.

A few minutes later, Jack appeared again right in front of them, his face grim. “He has her in the main restaurant.” Jack’s jaw clenched, his lip curling.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Henry grabbed Jack’s shirt.

“He has her on the floor spread-eagled. Her clothes are still on, but he’s draping her in scarves.”

Henry swallowed the knot of bile in his throat. “We need to move.”

Jack gave a short nod. “Agreed. There’s a broken window in the kitchen. He doesn’t seem to have many traps set up. My guess is this isn’t his usual place, but he’s using it for convenience. There are a few rudimentary traps but nothing sophisticated. If you can go in and when I say the word, try and distract him, I’ll take the shot.”

“We need him alive,” Calder commented.

Henry realized Calder was seeing the big picture better than he and Jack were right then.

Jack glanced at Henry. “How alive?”

“Alive enough to stand trial so we can find out exactly how many women he killed and give all of the families closure.”

Calder’s tone was firm. Henry knew he always wanted that for the families of those that ended up on his table. It was why he was such a good ME. Every victim mattered to him.

Jack lifted one shoulder. “Fine, I can do that.”

“What do you need from me?” Calder asked.

“You’re a doctor, right?” Jack’s meaning was evident, and Henry took a deep breath in to force the nausea of what Jack implied away.