Darke Heat (4 page)

Before they had finished, a call came in on his cell. It was Jefferson, one of the DEA officers he routinely worked with.

“Bryce, we’ve got trouble. It’s the same gang, but they’ve set some type of explosive device. I’ve sectioned off the area. Do you have the bomb dog still?” he asked.

“No, I have another one, but he’s just as good,” he said, scratching Samson behind the ears. “Give me the location. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jefferson gave him the location, on the other side of town, in one of the abandoned factories.

“Time to earn your keep, Samson.” The dog barked once as if he actually understood. Bryce shook his head in wonder, and then looked for Officer Jenkins. “Jenkins, I’m taking Samson to the site where we did the bust a couple of nights ago. The owner I rented this place from should be pulling up shortly.”

“You do realize he’s going to want you gone?” Jenkins half-joked.

“Oh yeah, and the timing is perfect. I have some unfinished business back in Darke County.”

“Oh, yeah? Well I may be seeing you down there. I’m going to get me one of those dogs,” he said with a meaningful look at Samson.

“Good luck. Paige is real picky about who gets to adopt her babies.”

“I got that. Maybe you can soften her up a bit before I get there.”

He wore a hopeful look and Bryce snorted a laugh. “I’ve got my own problems with the lady, so I’d say you’re better off going solo.”

Jenkins chuckled. “Having a spot of lady trouble?”

“You could say that.”

“Well then, I wish you luck. She struck me as one special lady. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Too late for that warning, but I’m going to make up for it.”

“Get going then. I’ve got all the info I need from you, and I’ll check out your report on the drug dealer case you think this stems from.”

Bryce didn’t wait for anything else. He led Samson to the SUV. Once he had him secured inside, he climbed in behind the wheel and headed to the site of their last drug bust. His source told him the rest of the shipment would be coming in soon. He needed to make sure no one got blown up when the operation went down. The last time, they’d only had minor injuries, but whoever the main boss man was, he’d hired someone who knew explosives and Semtex in particular. If Bryce had to guess, he was someone recruited from a terrorist group. Whoever he was, his involvement was making the case a lot harder. Having Samson with him would be his ace in the hole.

He called in to the squad to let them know he’d arrived with the dog. He knew it would be a big relief for the crew to know they weren’t going in blind. When he’d brought Sheba, he was really hoping to use her to sniff drugs, in case they tried to move them. But she’d saved lives by warning them of the Semtex. He’d seen Paige work the dog during training exercises and simulations, and knew when the dog had sniffed drugs verses explosives.

Although he’d taken a bullet trying to get one of the girls out of the drug den, he’d still been able to save a lot of good men by having the dog there. He’d head up this bust, but then he was done. He had a house in Darke County, and he wanted to be there. He had a woman there who needed him to man up, and talk through his feelings for her and their current situation.

At the drug site, the cleanup for the second drug bust was underway. He took Samson through the abandoned building they were using as a meth lab, and the dog pulled up several stash locations where the thugs had the drugs hidden. He and Samson had been badly needed. Samson saved time and resources by locating what they were looking for. The dog helped speed up the process by locating three bombs as well. Knowing that helped ease everyone’s mind.

Paige had Samson well trained. If he had performed well at Bryce’s house, he excelled now. He searched every corner of the building, stopping to get in his stance whenever he found the scent of explosives. The drugs were buried under trash. Maybe to hide the scent, but Samson found them anyway, and started digging. They now had the area around the explosives marked as well as a trail to the drug burial.

The men joined in the digging, and soon hauled out a large suitcase. Inside, were paper-wrapped containers, resembling five pound bags of sugar. Jefferson cut into one, and used his knife to bring the white powdery substance to his nose. He took a whiff.

“Pure cocaine. This stuff was not made here. This was shipped. We’ll need to track down the suppliers.”

“It also means we haven’t got the meth,” Bryce added.

“We’ll keep searching. The bomb squad should be here shortly to remove the explosives. Then we can take this place apart, a brick at a time, if we have to.”

“Hey, Jefferson, if you’ve got this, I’m going to return the dog and head out.”

“Yeah, we got this. Thanks for bringing him. He was a real asset. We’ll miss you, man, but I understand the need to get back home. Hope I get there one of these days.” They’d worked together for a few years on several drug busts. It was no secret that Bryce was leaving to head up a task force closer to his home in Darke County. He’d be stationed out of Dayton but still live in Colton in Darke County. “Jefferson, maybe you should keep the dog until this bust is cleaned up.”

“Wow, man. That will really be a big help. We’ve been needing one of these dogs for ages. The kids are going to be over the moon when I take him home.” Bryce took Jefferson through the caring of the dog and let him know it was a temporary situation, but he’d try to make it permanent. He handed off the bowls, toys, and leash, and then headed out. It was going to be another confrontation with Paige, but he didn’t want to lose any of his men if it could be avoided.

He looked down at his phone to see that he’d received a text from one of his snitches. The man said there was a gang matching the dragons who were kicked out of a bar in Hancock county just this side of the Michigan border. Good. He could drop by there and get any information they might have, and then continue on down to Darke County and meet up with Paige. It was going to be another bumpy conversation, but he was prepared for it.

Bryce sat in a dark corner of the biker bar, watching the occupants from his table. He tried to stretch his leg to work out some of the stiffness. The gunshot wound on his right thigh was healing, but the muscle stiffened up on him when he sat too long.

He noticed a group of gang bangers at one table getting pretty rowdy, but they weren’t the group he was looking for. A couple of them sported some prison tats, just not the right one. These were just another group of bottom feeders.

The waitress was wearing a sweater with the insignia of a local college, which reminded him of Paige. She was fresh-faced with auburn hair—way too preppy to be in a seedy roadhouse dive serving this bunch. Bryce watched as she went over to hand the rowdy group a round of shots, while continuing to watch the door and nurse his whiskey.

His gaze took in the skinhead with the prison tats as he grabbed the waitress and wouldn’t let her get up off his lap. She was resisting for real. It took Bryce only a second to realize the girl was in serious danger, and since no one was going to try to get the guy to let her go, he made the decision to intervene on the girl’s behalf. Like Paige, the waitress was too sweet and innocent to realize she was in danger until it was right on top of her.

Yep, it was that same impulsive chivalry that had got him the nice twenty-two slug in his thigh. He threw back the whiskey and strode over to the table where the girl was struggling in earnest. “Let her go.”

“Butt out of it,” the bald guy said over his shoulder.

“No can do. Let her go…now.” The threat in Bryce’s voice was cold and meant business, but the bald guy wasn’t letting go. Instead, he turned and looked Bryce over then gave some kind of head signal to the guys around the table. He shoved the girl at one of them and stood.

“I said butt out.” He took a swing at Bryce to emphasize his words.

Bryce ducked at the last moment and did a round house punch that snapped the guy’s head back. The man grabbed the table and spit out a tooth with blood.

“I’d say you won,” Bryce said while watching the other men at the table.

“What did he win?” the one holding the girl asked.

“Why, the spitting contest of course. He was the first one to spit out a tooth, so he won fair and square. Anyone care to try the pissing contest?” he asked in a flat tone.

All heads shook in the negative. They sat up straighter and closed their legs.

“That’s what I thought. Now let the waitress get back to her job. And you all be sure to tip her real good on your way out.”

The big, bald guy was still seeing stars if Bryce had to guess. His friends were pushing chairs back to leave, not wanting a whole lot to do with Bryce. Pretty wimpy if they weren’t willing to take him on. There were six of them, not counting baldy.

Something behind him was holding their attention now. A couple of them dropped some Lincolns on the table and bolted. Bryce spun around and saw the real reason for their hesitancy to fight. A big man with a sawed off shotgun was standing behind him.

Damn, he was losing his touch, if a man-bear could get the drop on him without so much as an inkling that he was in the cross hairs. Bryce sized up the man with the shotgun; stared him down. The guy eventually lowered the gun out of harms’ way.

“Hello, I’m Bryce Prescott,” he said. He held out his hand to shake, but wasn’t sure if it was the wisest move.

The big guy hesitated only briefly before doing the same.

“I’m Roscoe. Thanks for taking care of Tracey. Those guys just started coming around. They don’t understand I run a
No means No
kind of place.”

“I can see that.”

Roscoe turned to head back toward the bar.

“I was told you could give me some info on a recent gang that came through here?” said Bryce.

“Sure.”

“Have you seen a bunch of gang bangers with a dragon tattoo?”

“Hmm, we had a group of them that would come in on their Harleys and cause a scene, but I finally asked them to leave and not come back.”

“When was that?”

“Last night. I had a couple friends come in and help escort them out. My buddies happen to be ex-military, so they were real persuasive,” Roscoe said with a smile. Bryce figured just how persuasive they were was something Roscoe found humorous.

“Any idea where they could be now?”

“I think they were headed to somewhere in Ohio.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, they had Michigan license plates on their bikes, but were talking about something they had going on just a ways down the road.”

“All right. Thanks, you’ve been a big help.”

“You’re welcome. So, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What kind of cop are you?”

“DEA. What gave me away?”

“Oh, not letting a bunch of punks get away with being perverts, even though you were outnumbered. We don’t get a lot of rescuing around here.”

“Yep, it gets me in a lot of trouble,” Bryce said with a smile. He was ready to leave now that he had his information on the gang he was searching for.

“Oh, one other thing,” Roscoe said before Bryce made it to the door.

“There was one who mentioned something about Darke County. I’ve heard of it and it sounded like they were headed there. They had a German Shepherd in a cage strapped to a sidecar. I noticed because we had sidecars in Iraq.”

Bryce’s blood chilled. He knew the dog had to be Sheba. And Paige was walking right into a drug den.

“Thanks, I’m on my way there now. I’m sure I’ll run into them. The dog sounds like the one stolen from my back yard.”

“That’s just wrong,” Roscoe replied, shaking his head.

Bryce didn’t hesitate. He pulled out his phone while heading for the door and his car. There was no response from Paige. His call went to voice mail. He got in the truck, put his phone in the hands free holder, and called the sheriff’s office as he took off toward home.

“Darke County Sheriff’s office, how can I help you?”

“This is agent Bryce Prescott. Is Sheriff Markham available?”

“He’s out on an investigation. Can I take a message?”

“Yes. Tell him to call me. It’s urgent.” Bryce gave her the number as he pulled onto the highway, traveling at a speed that was way over the legal limit, but he was too worried to care.

Within minutes, he was giving the details of Paige’s impending run-in with danger to the Sheriff.

“I’ll head over to her place now,” Markham assured him.

It took Bryce no more than fifteen minutes to reach the outskirts of Darke County. The small community was where he’d grown up before moving to Detroit after college to work for the DEA. He still had the family farm, but someone else ran it. The old farmhouse was a bit rundown, but the farmer’s wife kept it clean for his infrequent visits. He’d rented it out several times to friends who wanted to get away to fish or hunt, and he’d come here not too long ago, due to the drug trafficking that was popping up in the area. Bryce’s musings came to an end when he pulled to a stop in Paige’s front yard.