Part 22 (2/2)
”It's about time, Ramirez. Did you tuck him in?” Cronan kept his voice low.
”Yeah, I guess you could call it that. He's handcuffed to the bed in the master. Call it protective custody.”
”What?” Cronan smiled. ”Never mind. Good call.”
”He has GPS on his cell and a tracker app. It's active,” she said. ”I figure we'll have company soon. Watch your back. I'm searching for the digitals now. I'll hit you back when I find something.”
”Roger that. Save me a slice of pizza.”
Cronan hunkered in the shadows and took cover in the trees near the waterline, grateful for the simple things like spray-on mosquito repellant. He kept his eyes and ears alert for anything that moved.
No matter how things played out, it would be a long night.
Angel focused her search in the living room where McFarland had his media set up. Gabe told her how he'd found a secret compartment where the man hid his surveillance equipment. She eventually extended her search to the upstairs, but had no better luck.
As she'd knocked on the walls and looked for hidden compartments, she thought about other ways McFarland could've recorded Ethan that would've eliminated the need to hide saved videos. He could have linked his feed to an online account synced to his camera. If he'd done that, they might never have found out about his illegal activity. With the video feed uploaded automatically, he wouldn't have needed to hook up his TV to his camera to watch or record. He'd only require online access to view the video files whenever he wanted from anywhere, but the fact that the guy had a lower tech solution rigged at his home told her more.
Uploading sensitive material like that onto the Internet would have left McFarland open to being discovered, similar to the way pedophiles are caught by the feds. Angel knew he must have thought about the best way to keep his activity secret where only he would have access.
After two hours of searching-and listening to Ethan rocking his headboard upstairs and cursing through the washcloth in his mouth every time she made a noise-Angel stopped to think. She pictured McFarland inheriting the choice real estate, realizing he had a way to stash his illegal activity away from his home in the city, but one thing bothered her enough to break radio silence with her partner.
”No luck so far,” she whispered to Gabe. ”But here's a thought.”
”Talk to me, Goose.”
His low voice coming over her ear bud made her smile.
”McFarland rented this place through a property management company, probably so he could afford the upgrade in lifestyle.”
”That makes sense.”
”Well...why risk hiding his illegal stuff in the lake house, where it might get discovered by the Winnebago crowd on a National Lampoon Vacation?”
”Bonus points in the pop culture category. Keep talking.”
”I bet this guy found a d.a.m.ned good way to hide it,” she said. ”It's gotta be locked away, somewhere only he would have access to it.”
”What are you thinking, Angel?”
”I saw a small shed on the property as we drove in.”
”You want me to check it out?”
”No, I'll do it. If someone is watching the house, it's best they only see me on the property.” Angel headed for the front door and made sure she still had the key in her pocket. ”I'll check it. Sit tight *til you hear from me.”
”Be careful, Angel.”
She checked her weapon and made sure she had a Kel-lite as she slipped out the front door and locked it behind her. She hit the switch for the flashlight and found a trail that led from the lake house to the maintenance shed. The trees around her were silhouetted by moonlight. They made eerie shapes that played tricks on her eyes as she moved. The water of the lake glistened, and a bluish haze flickered between the shadows that made it feel as if someone lurked in the dark, watching her.
When the hair on her neck warned her, Angel reached for her Glock, then gripped the weapon and freed it from her holster. She wanted to dismiss the creepy feeling and chalk it up to her sensing Gabe, but her cop instincts knew better.
Chapter 17.
Cronan pulled his Glock from its holster and searched the shadows that surrounded the lake house. With a cloud of mosquitoes hovering near his face, he did his best to ignore them. Any extra move to swat them might get him noticed. In tactical gear, Cronan felt the trickles of sweat on his body that had diluted his bug repellent. The little buzzing b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were making him miserable, but that wasn't all that bothered him.
He had second thoughts about his surveillance set up.
He had the Lake Zurich PD down the road in a patrol car, watching traffic on the road. Nothing had looked suspicious, so the radio contact had been minimal. Since the local LEOs wouldn't know anything about their investigation, he didn't want to risk an encounter that would scare off the suspect, but he hadn't counted on his partner leaving the bungalow to search a maintenance shed on the property.
Unless he followed her, he couldn't keep her in sight, but leaving his position meant he couldn't be sure if the house would be secure when she returned. Cronan had to make a tough call to protect his partner. When he spotted her through the trees, he crept low along the waterline and cut the gap between them. If he had to move fast, he wanted to be within striking distance. Cronan stuck close to the trees so he wouldn't be silhouetted against the moonlight reflected off the lake. He kept one eye on the lighted windows of the lake house while he watched Angel drift through the brush.
The snap of a twig made him stop. It echoed off the trees, making it hard to tell where the noise came from. When he knew it hadn't come from Angel, Cronan ducked for cover.
”Heard something. I'm checking it out,” he whispered.
”Copy that.”
Using his night vision binoculars, he saw a green glimmer move in the dark, and his high tech binoculars registered body heat. He only saw the movement once and lost the image. It could've been an animal, but he couldn't be sure.
d.a.m.n it.
When he heard a hammering noise coming from the shed, Cronan felt a rush of adrenaline as he keyed the mic.
”Is that you, Angel? You okay?”
”Yeah, I'm good. Just a little B & E.”
Angel sounded okay, but when he saw a body move through the trees, he knew someone was looking for her, and the noise she'd made would be a dead giveaway. Cronan stashed his surveillance gear and racked the slide of his weapon. He had to warn her. As he stood and crept forward, he activated his mic, but never got a chance to say anything.
Cronan got hit. The last thing he remembered was a blast of pain-and a blinding light.
Angel got to the shed and saw the door was secured with a metal latch that had a lock. She'd need a key and didn't have it. If McFarland didn't want visitors to have access to the shed, he wouldn't make it easy for them to get in. That left her with little choice. She had to break the metal latch or unhinge the door.
She had too much respect for her weapon to use it like a hammer. She took the risk of holstering her gun to focus on getting the door open. After she found a rock on the ground, she held the Kel-lite in her mouth and aimed the beam of light at the hinge. She retrieved a small knife from the pocket of her jeans and had wedged it under the hinge pin when she heard her partner's voice over her ear bud.
”Heard something. I'm checking it out.”
”Copy that,” she mumbled, clenching the Kel-lite in her teeth.
Angel pushed the rock against the knife. When the hinge pin wouldn't move, she had to shove at it. Working it loose was the hardest part, but once she got the pin to budge, it slipped out easy. One down, two to go.
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