I sat up slowly, easing away from Wes’ body and frantically looking around for a weapon of some kind. In the pitch blackness, I couldn’t see a foot in front of me and I cursed the fact that my cudgel and knives were tucked away in a roll of clothing on the other side of my man. That was bloody stupid of me.
The zipper came to an instant halt and the shadow person suddenly took off running, their feet pounding away from the tent.
I scrambled to the opening but it was too dark to make out much and they’d long gone. But two distant voices and the low hum of conversation got closer.
I sat perfectly still, as the voices got louder. When I could finally make out the low speech in Spanish, I relaxed, blowing out a breath as two Hispanic men trotted past the tent, speaking in their native tongue. Their voices eventually tapered away when they’d put enough distance from us.
Wes made a rumbling sound and rolled to his side, reaching out for me. “Patsy?”
“I’m here, luv.” I glanced back at the tent’s opening and finally relaxed as I realized that the intruder had probably seen the men coming, and taken off, not wanting to be discovered. That didn’t bode well at all but there was nothing to be done about it now. One thing was sure, though. They were probably up to no good. As the early morning chill began giving me goosies, I slid back down into the bag to the warm body of my bear. Wes’ arms drew me back to his heat and kissed the side of my face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, mo mhuirnín. Go back to sleep,” I muttered, snuggling closer and closing my eyes.
I tried to do the same thing but couldn’t as I rolled things over in my brain. Surely, the man who’d tried to take the Bible last night hadn’t come back after being caught. I lay in Wes’ arms for some time, slowly drifting back to sleep. I woke with a start when my mobile vibrated. When I reached for it and openedmy eyes, dawn had arrived. Seeing Napoleon’s number on the screen, I immediately swiped it as I sat up.
“Mornin’. What time is it?”
“Just after six, Pats. You’d better get up. Something’s happened.”
“Shite!” I dropped the mobile and scrambled to pick it up. “Hang on.” I reached for the Henley and pulled it over my long underwear. As my head popped out of the collar, I noticed Wes was awake. I gave him a fleeting smile as I picked up my mobile again. “Hey, Napoleon. What’s up?”
“There was a murder in the camp last night,” he said. “Nash and I called Candy as soon as we saw a crowd gathering. He’s reporting it to police and the ME to get them rolling. The boss is on route as well as the rest of the team …ETA fifteen minutes.”
“Okay. I’m gettin’ up.”
“Nash and I are at the latrines closest to the bridge, and hey, Patsy—”
“Yeah?”
“Candy says not to break cover.”
“Okay.” I hung up and glanced at Wes who was sitting up, also pulling on a sweatshirt. “That was Napoleon,” I said, answering the questions in his eyes. “There’s been a murder. He wants us to meet him at the latrines where we were last night, near the bridge.”
He looked worried and when he spoke, his voice shook. “Who was killed?”
“He didn’t say. He only said the police and medical examiner are already en route as well as Candy. He doesn’t want us to break cover.”
He nodded. “That’s easy enough.”
We were quiet as we stepped outside the tent. The camp was still in the early morning hours, but already quite a few people had emerged from their humble dwellings. A crowd was forming near the latrines and we headed in that direction.
We’d nearly arrived when I turned to find a police car with flashing lights driving slowly down the road behind us. I took hold of Wes’ arm to pull him off the road, letting the police vehicle pass through the parting onlookers as they converged on the scene.
Napoleon and Nash were standing near the latrines; they subtly nodded to us as we headed in their direction. I grabbed onto Wes’ sleeve to stop him as I caught sight of the body. The man lay face up, staring sightlessly to the sky through mere slits of his swollen eyes; his misshapen face showed what had to be numerous facial fractures, making it almost impossible to be sure if he was the same man we’d caught or not. Although his clothing looked similar.
He lay some fifteen feet from the back of the latrines. He’d been beaten to a pulp but even more telling than the brutal beating the man had been subjected to, was the manner of death. A filthy rope had been wrapped several times around his neck, eerily imitating the ligature the serial killer had used to kill the women he’d brutalized.
I wondered if he’d been knocked unconscious so he couldn’t fight back and then strangled.Holy Mother of God.
I heard a gasp and glanced in Wes’ direction to find him looking stricken as he stared at the brutalized victim with one hand clamped over his mouth. My heart instantly went out to him as regret punched me in the stomach. I should’ve sheltered him from the horror of this mess.
Instead, I’d stopped us both to gawk at the ghastly sight just like all the other busybodies standing around. I swallowed hard and leaned toward him. “Ya don’t have to stay here, darlin’. Why don’t ya go back to the tent and wait for me there, yeah? I need to speak to Napoleon and Nash.”
“That man’s dead, Patsy,” he whispered shakily, looking white as a sheet. “Was he killed like those prostitutes?”
I nodded. “It appears so.” Wes had been shown pictures of the dead women as a part of his briefing back at the office.
