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shoulders.
Seton held the ladder steady as Wolf lifted the woman over his shoulder and began to climb. When he disappeared Stedman did the same with his female. Seconds later, the rest of the team emerged from the room below.
“We need to get them to the truck so I can check them over,” Wolf said.
Stedman nodded and shifted the woman on his shoulder back into his arms.
“What’s your name, honey?” he asked.
Before she could answer, Bronsin spoke behind him. “They’re the ones.” His brother looked worse than ever, but there was a hint of triumph in his voice.
“Chantal Forrester,” the woman whispered.
That was one of the names from the report. Stedman gave his brother a nod of acknowledgment then asked, “And your friend?”
“I don’t know. Our mouths were taped the whole time and we weren’t able to talk.”
Stedman caught up with Wolf and heard him ask the same question.
“Alexis Coffey.”
“How old are you two?” Stedman asked.
“I’m twenty-two,” Chantal answered.
“I’m twenty-five,” Alexis replied.
Stedman could feel Chantal shaking and wondered if it was fear, shock, or exhaustion and hunger. He would have to wait until Wolf gave them a thorough check before he asked them more.
What pissed him off the most was that they hadn’t even sighted the perps. While the women were being tended to the rest of the team had searched inside and the surrounding area. No clues had been found. It looked like they were going to have a few more missions before they could really hang up their guns.
Once the women were in the truck, he looked over and frowned when he saw Codi carrying the large metal toolbox.
“What’s in that?”
“Surgical instruments,” Codi answered grimly.
“Fuck! Looks like Bronsin found them just in time. Let’s hope the Feds can get some prints off that stuff.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Chapter Seven
Bronsin dropped onto the bed in their motel room in Billings. He closed his eyes and felt exhaustion sweep over him. He’d kept his shield down all the previous day and night, and now he was paying for it. Never had he felt so weak. His body felt like it was shaking from the inside out.
Through the motel’s thin walls, he could pick up voices. Wolf was checking over the two women, and now the paperwork and reports began. By rights he ought to be in there helping, but Stedman had sent him off to rest.
He opened his eyes when Ward came into the room. “FBI’s on their way,” he reported. “We can hand this whole mess over to them and get home.”
“How are the women?”
“Bruised, dehydrated, and hungry, but they’ll be fine. They’ll be home soon.” After a moment, he went on, “Stedman called Coulter to fill him in. Coulter had a lot of questions about how you knew where to go to find them.”
Bronsin propped himself up. “I think I can finally answer that.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I felt their distress—one of them, anyway.”
“You should never have been able to feel anything about them from Miles City,” Ward objected. “And surrounded by all those people? There’s no way.”
“Some people can block our ability to feel their emotions,” Bronsin said. “What if other people have the opposite ability?”
Understanding dawned on Ward’s face. “She can broadcast from a long, long way off, you mean?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. You lot might not have been able to feel it, but I could. And I don’t know, maybe it was just that she was so scared and in so much pain that allowed me to feel it at that distance.” He shrugged. “Got any better ideas?”
“Nope. Which one of them broadcasts like that?”
“I don’t even know. My brain’s fried.”
“Lie down. You earned it.”
Bronsin settled back on the bed again. “I just sped up the process. We’d have found them eventually with the information we got off the clinic in Miles City.”
“That may yet lead us to Jones, though it’ll be a couple of days
Seton held the ladder steady as Wolf lifted the woman over his shoulder and began to climb. When he disappeared Stedman did the same with his female. Seconds later, the rest of the team emerged from the room below.
“We need to get them to the truck so I can check them over,” Wolf said.
Stedman nodded and shifted the woman on his shoulder back into his arms.
“What’s your name, honey?” he asked.
Before she could answer, Bronsin spoke behind him. “They’re the ones.” His brother looked worse than ever, but there was a hint of triumph in his voice.
“Chantal Forrester,” the woman whispered.
That was one of the names from the report. Stedman gave his brother a nod of acknowledgment then asked, “And your friend?”
“I don’t know. Our mouths were taped the whole time and we weren’t able to talk.”
Stedman caught up with Wolf and heard him ask the same question.
“Alexis Coffey.”
“How old are you two?” Stedman asked.
“I’m twenty-two,” Chantal answered.
“I’m twenty-five,” Alexis replied.
Stedman could feel Chantal shaking and wondered if it was fear, shock, or exhaustion and hunger. He would have to wait until Wolf gave them a thorough check before he asked them more.
What pissed him off the most was that they hadn’t even sighted the perps. While the women were being tended to the rest of the team had searched inside and the surrounding area. No clues had been found. It looked like they were going to have a few more missions before they could really hang up their guns.
Once the women were in the truck, he looked over and frowned when he saw Codi carrying the large metal toolbox.
“What’s in that?”
“Surgical instruments,” Codi answered grimly.
“Fuck! Looks like Bronsin found them just in time. Let’s hope the Feds can get some prints off that stuff.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Chapter Seven
Bronsin dropped onto the bed in their motel room in Billings. He closed his eyes and felt exhaustion sweep over him. He’d kept his shield down all the previous day and night, and now he was paying for it. Never had he felt so weak. His body felt like it was shaking from the inside out.
Through the motel’s thin walls, he could pick up voices. Wolf was checking over the two women, and now the paperwork and reports began. By rights he ought to be in there helping, but Stedman had sent him off to rest.
He opened his eyes when Ward came into the room. “FBI’s on their way,” he reported. “We can hand this whole mess over to them and get home.”
“How are the women?”
“Bruised, dehydrated, and hungry, but they’ll be fine. They’ll be home soon.” After a moment, he went on, “Stedman called Coulter to fill him in. Coulter had a lot of questions about how you knew where to go to find them.”
Bronsin propped himself up. “I think I can finally answer that.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I felt their distress—one of them, anyway.”
“You should never have been able to feel anything about them from Miles City,” Ward objected. “And surrounded by all those people? There’s no way.”
“Some people can block our ability to feel their emotions,” Bronsin said. “What if other people have the opposite ability?”
Understanding dawned on Ward’s face. “She can broadcast from a long, long way off, you mean?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. You lot might not have been able to feel it, but I could. And I don’t know, maybe it was just that she was so scared and in so much pain that allowed me to feel it at that distance.” He shrugged. “Got any better ideas?”
“Nope. Which one of them broadcasts like that?”
“I don’t even know. My brain’s fried.”
“Lie down. You earned it.”
Bronsin settled back on the bed again. “I just sped up the process. We’d have found them eventually with the information we got off the clinic in Miles City.”
“That may yet lead us to Jones, though it’ll be a couple of days
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