Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Blackwater

After driving for forty minutes, they discovered Dr. Benson's residence. A rustic log cabin on the outskirts of Blackwater set on the edge of the forest and shielded from the road by a line of trees. Beth climbed out of the SUV and scanned the area, noting it was five miles from town without any neighbors to worry about. In fact, a perfect place to hide a child. She followed Styles to the front door and stood to one side as he picked the lock. The door opened and the stink of cigar smoke drifted out in a miasma of nasty. This man didn't just enjoy cigars, he bathed in the smoke. She looked at Styles and pulled a face mask from a pocket. "I think that stink is as disgusting as the smell of dead bodies." She pushed the face mask over her nose and then pulled on examination gloves before stepping inside the house.

They found a family room, a kitchen, and bathroom. Two bedrooms. One room was used as the main bedroom and the other smaller room held office equipment but had a cot in one corner. A closet held a few empty hangers. Beth walked into the office and stared at the desk. The room was unkept and dusty. On the desk in the dust she found the outline of a laptop. All the drawers in the desk hung open. "It looks to me like he made a fast getaway and took everything with him."

"Not so fast. It's the same as Shoebridge's house." Styles moved his scanner over the surfaces. "No prints. The place has been wiped down."

Dismayed Beth stared at the room. "Go and search the rest of the house." She checked the bed. It was too neat and the bedding smelled musty. No one had slept there for a time.

"Come and look in here." Styles' voice came from the other room.

Beth walked into the bedroom. The first thing she noticed was the unmade bed, the second was the clothes that Styles was holding up. "He had a kid here? I've checked him out and he had no children of his own. He's a doctor, which makes it so much worse."

"I found these on the bed." He tossed a pair of PJs to her. "Look at the size. How old do you figure? Twelve?"

Hands trembling, Beth examined the clothing, fingered the pink teddy bears, and nodded. "Yeah, or younger." She pushed the clothes into an evidence bag and sealed it and then took a pen and wrote on the outside. She looked at Styles and shook her head. "We have to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else."

"It's my top priority." Styles scanned the room. "They've left most of their things behind. I'd say they had a bag packed and ready to go." He looked at her. "I know this case is cutting deep, Beth, but stay focused. Right now, you're the only weapon we have to put these animals away and take down the entire organization."

Unsettled, Beth led the way out of the bedroom and stood in the hallway leaning against the wall. Memories of her time in foster care after her father murdered her mother came into her mind in a torrential rush. The years of sexual abuse she'd suffered had triggered her need to rid the world of monsters. She looked at Styles, trying to gain her composure. "I know. The problem is when I walk into a bedroom and see things like that, it brings back too many bad memories." She searched Styles' face. How could he ever understand what she went through in foster care? "I don't have flashbacks, so you don't have to worry about PTSD. I've lived through many of the things these girls are suffering right now, and I need to stop it. All that's on my mind at the moment is an all-consuming need to bring these people to justice."

"Mine too." Styles scratched his cheek and took a tentative step toward her. "You're trembling." He slipped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him. "I wish I could have been there to protect you. It breaks my heart to know what you went through. I look at you and think, how did that small woman survive?" He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You did survive, Beth. I'm here now and together we will stop this happening to other kids if it's the last darn thing I do."

Usually when men put their hands on her, Beth's skin crawled and her reaction was usually violent. To her surprise, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder finding comfort in his warm embrace. Without realizing it, her hand snaked around his waist, and she gave him a squeeze. "Thank you. That means so much to me."

"That's okay." Styles straightened and smiled at her. "I couldn't find a root cellar, but I'll check the loft and then we can head back to the motel. I hope Sheriff Alton changes her mind about allowing us to speak to Ava. If she doesn't, we'll head back to Rattlesnake Creek. I want to get copies of all the media files we discovered to the violent crimes against children division ASAP. They have the resources needed to identify the victims in the files."

The need to do something burned in Beth and she nodded. "I can start uploading them to the server via my laptop. I'll create an encrypted folder with eyes-only protocol to ensure the files aren't leaked or hacked by anyone." She waited in the passageway for him to pull down the loft steps and climb up to look inside the small dark area.

"There's nothing here." Styles pushed the steps back into place. "Wolfe will do a forensic sweep when he gets here in the morning. We'll hand over to him and head on home."

As her mind planned the next steps in the investigation, Beth followed him out to the SUV and then walked up to the deputies watching the place. "The medical examiner will be here in the morning with his team. We're heading back to Louan. Thanks for your assistance."

"Not a problem, ma'am." The deputy behind the wheel smiled at her and tipped his hat.

She headed back to the SUV as Bear came bounding back, tail wagging. He had cobwebs and twigs stuck in his coat. "What have you been doing?" She bent to wipe his head clean.

"On his downtime, he likes to explore new areas." Styles opened the back door and waved Bear inside. "I figure he searches for some poor creature he can protect."

Beth smiled and climbed into the passenger seat. "As long as it's not a chicken, right?"

"No, his fear of chickens is absolute." Styles started the engine. "He busted a feather pillow once and it was like Armageddon. I honestly believed he'd have a heart attack. He wouldn't stop shaking. I ended up calling Nate to give him a sedative."

Taken aback, Beth stared at him. "Nate's not a vet. He's a mighty fine doctor."

"It might say dr. nate nace on his shingle, but when the chips are down, and an animal is in trouble, many townsfolk call Nate. He has completed a course or whatever to handle sick animals."

Chuckling, Beth stared out the window at the multicolored scenery. After a long white winter, everything looked fresh and clean and so green. She recalled a time when Nate had given her a drug to take down a dangerous criminal. "He's a man of many talents."

Nate was a man she could trust, but the person she trusted the most, apart from Styles, was Dr. Shane Wolfe. She recognized something in him akin to herself. Not the psychopath side but the part of him that would die before giving up a secret, and she guessed he held many people's lives in his hands. If ever she told anyone about her dark side, it would be him. Maybe he could help her? She swallowed hard. The images on the thumb drive rose up like hot lava in her brain. Her fingers closed into fists and anger trembled through her. While predators roamed the earth and she still drew breath, she'd make them pay.