Hunting (40 page)

“
Yes,
sir. Next time you and I are at a crime scene together, I
will be sure to ask your permission before entering.”

Her words held something
Hellbrook couldn’t quite identify. He glared. He didn’t need this
problem, even if he currently needed her. “See that you do. I’d
hate to have to explain to your father why I let you fall off a
cliff.”

She mumbled something under
her breath that he swore was 
he’d assume you pushed me!
Surely she hadn’t said that? Did she honestly think that? “Excuse
me, Dr. Dennis? What was that?”

“
She could have climbed
out,
sir
.” Georgia stepped away from him, then shielded her
eyes from the sun. She stared up the side. “Why didn’t
she?”

Hell mimicked her actions,
making a mental note to keep a closer eye on her if they remained
partnered up for the investigation. Something in his gut told him
he’d need to. Hell always trusted his gut. It had gotten him this
far. “There were no drugs in her system—at least, according to the
preliminary autopsy. Estimated time of death was mid-evening, day
after disappearance.”

“
Question is—was she
already dead when she entered the pit, or did he stone her while
she was down there?” Georgia pulled on a pair of latex gloves as
she spoke, handing him a second pair.

“
Probably waited until she
was down here. Either rolled her, carried her, or simply pushed her
over the edge. The growth would have slowed her enough to not kill
her outright.” Hell pulled on his gloves. He examined the disturbed
spot where fourteen-year-old Hailey Ann Michaels’ body had landed
for the final time. That poor child hadn’t deserved to be tossed
aside like a man’s trash. Hell would find him and render him as
insignificant as garbage. Hailey Ann deserved that much and so much
more. “When she was awake and aware enough he began pelting her
with these.”

He motioned to the
palm—sized stones that littered the area. He grabbed one and
examined it.

“
Still, why couldn’t she
have hidden until he grew tired and left? Or did he out-wait her?
There’s several places a girl her size could have hidden. Maybe he
waited until she’d almost made it out and then pushed her down?
That demonstrates an extreme amount of patience.” Georgia mimicked
him, grabbing another stone. Her brown eyes narrowed as she eyed
him. Her hand clenched on the rock. “Go back up...sir.”

He considered, wondering if
she planned to heave the rock at him. Her eyes were cool, her face
a mask of professionalism. But there was something in her eyes.
Hell mentally shrugged, then nodded. He wasn’t familiar enough with
her style while in the field to know what she was
thinking.

He’d never had her out in
the field, either with him or any of the other CCU members. Not
once since she’d been transferred to his team. She’d not been in
the field with him since the afternoon they’d been with Agents
Brockman and McLaughlin on a Seattle rooftop, working a joint case
just days after they’d met. A sniper they’d been chasing had put a
round through Georgia’s right shoulder. He’d never
forgotten—
still
had nightmares—about her blood staining his
favorite leather jacket, of how pale and small she’d been as he’d
used his body as a human shield between her and the shooter. Had
she not turned at the last second, she’d be dead. He’d also never
forgotten how she’d trembled against him as he’d carried her to the
waiting ambulance ten stories below. How light and insubstantial
she’d felt as she’d clung to him, her arm clenched around his neck.
How she’d not made a single sound.

He shifted almost
unconsciously, putting his body between hers and the top of the pit
as he climbed. He hated having her out here, exposed.

He was silent as he climbed
the incline. It wasn’t an easy climb for him—and he made every
effort to keep his body in optimum physical shape. The job demanded
it. It would not have been an easy climb for a petite and terrified
teenage girl.

He turned back and looked
down at his agent. She looked even smaller than he knew her to be,
and she was no bigger than any of their victims. “Now what,
doctor?”

“
Can you see me here?” she
yelled back at him before moving to various places in the pit. It
was only about thirty feet in width, but the overgrowth—even beaten
down by the last remnants of melting snow—would have provided some
potential covering. Georgia stepped behind the largest copse of
weeds and brambles. All he could see of her was the black ball
cap.

“
Now what?” he
yelled.

“
Stand back!” She let the
first stone fly. It missed him and Stanton by three
yards.

Hell cursed, “Dammit,
Dennis!”

He may have imagined it,
but he heard a wicked feminine laugh come from the pit. He and
Stanton moved back several dozen feet.

“
Try it again!” he yelled
and she pelted more stones over the edge. She did this for a good
five minutes before he called a halt. “All right, that’s enough!
You’ve proven your point, now get back up here!”

“
Yes, sir!”

Hell moved back to the rim,
watching each move she made. She had more time to deliberate than
the victims would have had, and she had the benefit of being an
adult in prime physical shape—and she was armed. Those facts gave
her an edge the girls wouldn’t have had. The terror the girls would
have experienced was missing, but Hell watched Georgia’s body
movements, the way she had to stretch to grab exposed roots and
rocks that may have provided Hailey Ann with handholds had the girl
climbed the incline.

Georgia misjudged, missing
the exposed root she’d grabbed for. Hell tensed. She slid, and he
bit back another curse. She took the next ten feet more carefully,
then reached for another root near the top. Both he and the shorter
Stanton leaned down to offer her a hand up. Stanton was too short
to be much help, so Hell stretched out a little farther, trying not
to think of the drop behind her. The muddy edge crumbled beneath
her as Hell’s hand met hers.

He cursed again; he used
his hold on her hand to pull her the last few feet—clearing the rim
and jerking them both away from the edge, taking the yellow crime
tape with them. His arm rested around her waist and her head was
tucked beneath his chin. They both breathed hard. Her front was
pressed against his chest and her feet dangled several inches from
the muddy ground.

“
Agent Hellbrook?” Her
voice wobbled a bit. She pulled against his hold. He lowered her,
sliding her body against his larger one, letting her feet hit the
grass. “Why didn’t she hide—or fight back? She could have. How did
he stop her? Or was she just too damned terrified to
resist?”

“
That’s a question the
autopsy and forensics team may be able to answer,” Hell said as she
replaced her bag over her shoulders.

She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“We need those autopsy results as soon as possible.”

“
Yes, I think we’ve gotten
all we are going to get here. Let’s go. We’ll head into town and
meet up with the medical examiner.” Hell motioned her down the path
in front of him and behind Stanton. It was going to be a long hike
back.