Ridley Pearson - The Angel Maker

"If we could get a look inside."

"It's locked up tight.

We've already trespassed. You don't want to add breaking and entering to that, do you? The police treat all crime the same, you know. I for one want nothing to do with breaking any more laws." Tegg felt a strange lightheadedness. The air seemed crystal clear. He knew what had to be done. He checked the dart gun.

Once again Tegg attempted to discourage him. "I for one have other things to do. What about you? I thought you said you were lost. Won't this delay of yours be noticed?" He tested, "Are you with anyone else?"

"me? No. But I understand what you're saying. We can't wait around here forever. Maybe it was just a cat."

The dogs quieted. Tegg lifted his hand like a preacher and they waited in silence as the last of the barking stopped completely. It surprised him they should stop so soon; sometimes they went on for hours. "Nothing," he whispered.

Michael stepped toward the building. He raised his arm, preparing to bang on the wall! "Without actually breaking inside," Tegg added, stopping the man, "there's not much more to be done. We're sure as hell not going to break that lock." Tegg's finger slipped onto the trigger. Despite the isolation, Tegg had no desire to do this out in the open. He had made a similar mistake once before in his life, and he was not prone to repeating mistakes. "Helllppp!" came the distinctive cry of a woman's voice from inside. It was quickly buried in barking, but there was no mistaking it.

The hiker exploded into a frenzy. "What did I tell you?" He ran for the door.

The pistol was no good for moving targets; Tegg was no marksman.

He hurried after him. Above all, he wanted them both inside before he used the dart gun. It would take anywhere from thirty seconds to several minutes for the Ketamine to take effect. He needed the man contained for this period, not running wild. Shoot him inside the kennel, then get out quickly and lock the door until the drug took effect.

in a calm, almost serene way, he examined his options. What was left? There could be no trusting this man. The threat was too great. Even if Tegg were to move the woman, his research laboratory was here in the basement of the cabin. Could he give it all up on account of one lost hiker? Problems tended to breed like rabbits. Solutions required quick decisions. "Something has just occurred to me. What about a hidden key? A spare key for this shed? People always hide a spare. I certainly do. it shouldn't be too hard to find." Tegg said this as he fingered the appropriate key in his pocket. "You're right!"

"All we have to do is think like him. Hmm? Where would you hide a spare key? I'll take this side, you take that."

it took Tegg only a few seconds to separate the key from his key chain, although he had to set the dart gun down to do so. He turned over a rock so that it would look as if he had found it there. Then he announced loudly, "I've found it!"

The man named Michael came running. Tegg retrieved the dart gun and led the boy to the door. He inserted the key and turned. The padlock snapped open. "You first," Tegg said. "This was your idea." He added, "I'll back you up," and displayed the loaded dart gun.

The door swung open. They were greeted with a penetrating darkness, and foul, bitter odors. The dogs barked wildly. Michael Washington checked silently with Elden Tegg. Encouraged by him, he began a slow, tentative walk down the darkened aisle. The white teeth of the dogs, bared and snarling, challenged him at every step. The shock collars sang with warnings, and the dogs cried with pain as they threw themselves against the chain link walls of their cages.

Elden Tegg, dart gun in hand, followed a few steps behind. With each cage Tegg passed, the dog inside went silent. Michael Washington took no notice, made no connection, his attention instead riveted on the inhabitant of the cage up ahead on the left. On the bare back and buttocks of the woman crouched into the far corner.

She glanced over her shoulder briefly, her arms tucked tightly, covering her breasts, looking first at Michael Washington, then at Elden Tegg. She hid her face. "I was right!" Michael Washington proclaimed triumphantly, turning toward Tegg. "But you'll soon wish you hadn't been," replied Elden Tegg, who was waiting several feet away, dart gun raised. He squeezed the trigger. The gun went off with a crack. Tegg had never fired a dart gun at a human. He had hesitated an instant too long. A shocked and stunned Michael Washington reached down and pulled the dart free.

Eyes filled with rage, he charged Tegg, who would be no match for the younger man.

The dogs' barking was deafening! Te's mind worked furiously: the shovel! Leaning against the near wall, it offered possibility. He lunged toward the wall, jumping left toward the shovel as his charger misjudged his intentions and crashed into the door, slamming it shut. A drugged Michael Washington got out of his own way then and managed to crack the door open as Tegg seized the shovel and swung it in a long, unforgiving arc toward the other man's head. The shovel dropped quickly, only grazing the black man's arm. Washington caught hold of the shovel, and hand-over-hand drew Tegg closer-both of them struggling for possession. Tegg saw the man's pupils then, and he let go of the shovel, surprising Michael Washington, who staggered back, shovel in hand. Tegg witnessed the first major seizure in the man, a ripple of muscle contraction that ran from his feet to his shoulders.

Michael Washington fought it. With great difficulty, he managed to move one heavy step forward. Fear belied his intentions.

Tegg watched, catching his breath. He smiled. "There's no use fighting it now," he said. Washington's entire body tensed as a second contraction hit him. He collapsed. Tegg stood over him, watching. Studying. He had never seen such a severe reaction to Ketamine. As a doctor, he found it fascinating. In higher doses, it was lethal." Oh, no … " the drugged man groaned. "Oh, yes," answered Elden Tegg, another smile forming on his lips.

Boldt was driving his Toyota, Daphne riding with him. He had been warned that it might be days or even weeks until he could draw a vehicle from the pool. He didn't have an office cubicle yet, either. In many ways he remained the outsider, his return to the department more technical than actual.

A few miles passed. The Emerald City receded in the rearview mirror. He could see out across the Sound. Lush green islands like jewels. More pleasure craft than on the weekdays, their sails catching the brilliant sunshine like sun-starved flowers. Ferries like big bugs, back and forth, back and forth. The waterways came alive on weekends when the sun shone. His eyes refocused. OBJECTS CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR read the message stenciled across the outside mirror. "No lie," thought Lou Boldt, studying Daphne's profile. "You don't have to be so mad," he said to her. "We should have done this yesterday." "You did speak to her yesterday. It couldn't be official for twenty-four hours."

"That's a stupid law. Twenty-four hours?

Sharon could be anywhere by now." She added, "And don't give me the statistics sermon! You'll see. Once you have spoken to Agnes you'll be convinced. I know you. I know you will be. Sharon did not take off somewhere. Those goddamn statistics weren't made for people like her. And don't hand me that crap about her having been a runaway. That's all behind her. I could have popped Shoswitz for that. He's a misogynist, you know that?"

"Lamoia's running the surveillance on the Bloodlines employee, Connie Chi," he said, trying to distract her. She was worked up for nothing-they were almost there. In the police department nothing moved at the pace you wanted. Investigators learned to accept it; psychologists-turned-investigators suffered for it. There was a long silence. "So how are things?" he asked. "Things?" she questioned. "What things?"