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were more helpful than lecturing him for the mistreatment. Cal still wasn’t sure what Walker was doing, but he concluded that his interest was in removing him temporarily from this investigation rather than doing bodily harm. The chances were aplenty to do that, but Walker continued to side with mercy over murder. This, too, puzzled Cal.

Only the occasional scuffle of feet moving outside the door broke the silence.

Until Cal and Kelly heard someone pounding on an exterior door.

Immediately, the room filled with muffled screams from the immobile reporters. The voice that accompanied the pounding on the door was a familiar one.

Chapter 43

Dawkins grew tired of waiting. He knew Warren might do something stupid if the tension continued to build. Just as he resolved that he was going to get the battering ram out of his car and pull Cal and Kelly from the house, Dawkins heard muffled screams. It sounded like someone was in the house.

Dawkins ran to his patrol car and popped the trunk to retrieve the battering ram. He yelled for Warren to join him in the front. Warren came scrambling around the side of the house.

“What is it, Dawkins? What’s going on?”

“I heard some screams coming from the house, so whoever is in there may not be voluntarily. We’re going to have to bust the door down and find out what’s going on. You ready?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just stand back here and cover me while I knock the door down. Then follow me in and be ready for anything. Got it?”

“Yep. Let’s do it.”

“OK. Stand back.”

Dawkins needed three heaving blasts from the battering ram to bust open the door. He dropped it and rushed into the house, drawing his weapon in case he met any strong resistance. Warren followed. He handled the gun as if it was the first time he had been in a potential combative situation since becoming a deputy – because it was his first time.

The muffled screams hadn’t stopped since Dawkins first heard them. For two straight minutes he had heard what sounded like pleas for help. Dawkins and Warren raced down the hall on the left side of the house, looking for a room that might contain the voices. No luck. Then the right side. Nothing there either.

Warren froze and looked down.

“I think it’s coming from the basement.”

Dawkins nodded.

“Good work, rook.”

Dawkins located the door to the stairs and flipped on the light switch. The cries continued as they rushed down the stairs. They were getting louder.

The basement was unfinished. The lighting was roughed in, as were some of the walls. It didn’t even have a cement floor in some parts, as dirt served that function.

As Dawkins and Warren crept through the empty space, they located a single door in the back corner of the room. The cries were coming from there.

Dawkins jammed his shoulder against the wall just outside the door. He looked at Warren, who had taken up a position across from him by the door.

“You ready?” Dawkins whispered.

“Let’s do it.”

Dawkins flung open the door.

***

Cal and Kelly agonized over their potential savior. The person who was about to walk through the door could either be a friend or foe. But in either case, their situation was about to change.

They never stopped screaming for help, even beneath sealed lips.

Finally, a light pierced the room’s darkness, giving Cal a better idea of his situation. Until that moment, all he knew was that he was bound to a chair on a dirt floor with Kelly behind him. But room dimensions or other objects in the room? Cal had no idea about the true nature of his environment.

Despite a strong desire to get out of his chair, Cal’s anxiety heightened with each passing second. What if their savior wasn’t really a savior? What if he was more like a tormentor? He cringed as the door opened.

Chapter 44

Dawkins squinted as he peered into the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness as he felt around for a light switch. He finally found one and flicked it on. The man lying on the floor looked unfamiliar to him.

The man squirmed around, attempting to say something but to no avail as the duct tape over his mouth suppressed any potential successful communication.

Dawkins knelt down beside the man, whose hands were fastened behind his back with duct tape as were his feet.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

Dawkins ripped the duct tape off the man’s mouth.

“I’m special agent Chris Cooper from the FBI. Help me up!”

Dawkins flashed a wry smile at the moment only he would find comedic. Then he got serious.

“Not until you answer my second question.”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m squirming on the floor trying to convince Barney Fife to help me out.”

“You’re a funny man, Agent Cooper. I always thought Barney Fife would be the one squirming on the floor, duped by someone else—not the one in charge of the situation.”

Cooper’s biting edge softened. “Just help me up, OK?”

“I want some answers first.”

“I don’t really have any for you. I’m here handling an internal situation.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re handling it very well.”

“Enough with the wise cracks. Just get me untied, OK?”

Dawkins and Warren began freeing Cooper, who didn’t demonstrate much gratitude once he was on his feet.

Despite the runaround Cooper gave him, Dawkins was determined to get some more answers.

“Let me see your badge, Agent Cooper.”

Cooper dug into his pocket and pulled out an official FBI badge.

Satisfied with Cooper’s credential, Dawkins pressed on.

“Do you know Buddy Walker?”

“I already told you that I’m not at liberty to say anything. I’m only here handling an internal matter.”

“Well, we got a tip that Walker was holding someone hostage, which is why I’m even here saving your sorry self. So, if your Walker is that internal matter you’re talking about, I’ll be happy to let it remain your problem and drop our investigation. Otherwise, I’m going to make your

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