Page 34 of K-9 Guardians

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Granger shoved free of the vehicle.

Scarlett craned her neck to face King. “You know the deal. You leave this vehicle only—and I mean only—if Granger and I recover Julien.”

“Couldn’t break out of here if I wanted to.” He adjusted his weight in the seat.

A small part of her wanted to believe he’d listen to his body and not aggravate the wound. But King had proven the lengths he would go to for his son before.

“I’ll be on the radio. Talk to you soon.” Scarlett secured King inside the SUV, then latched the radio on to her belt and unholstered her sidearm. Sweat had already built in her hairline. “You think I should crack the window for him or something?”

Granger’s laugh did nothing to release the unease building inside her as they approached the one-story mansion surrounded by nothing but desert. No cover to hide their approach. If Muñoz had a team surveilling the perimeter, they’d be made in seconds. “He’s not a dog, Scarlett. The man can take care of himself.”

Her unease darkened into discomfort. Her Kevlar suddenly seemed much heavier despite years of getting used to the weight. But it wasn’t that. It was the feeling of something missing. Gruber and Hans, King even. In a matter of days, she’d gotten used to their team. However scattered and mismatched they were. They’d done something amazing together in that warehouse.

Scarlett looked back, putting King in her sights through the tinted window, and the pressure let up. Just for a moment. It was enough to clear her head as she turned back toward the house. The SUV was there. Right where overhead satellite footage had put it.

She and Granger jogged low, using the vehicle as cover. Scarlett pressed her hand against the SUV’s window to block out the sun distorting her vision. “It’s empty. Judging by the fact our footprints are the only evidence of life on this driveway, I’m guessing it’s been sitting here for a couple days.” Panic was starting to set in. That she’d made the wrong call. That she’d wasted another couple of hours of Julien’s precious life. Of Gruber’s. “Why is nobody shooting at us?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. On me.” Granger raised his weapon shoulder-level and left the cover of the SUV. He and Scarlett moved as one toward the front door of the home.

Property records still put the home under Metias Leyva, the uncle. No new homeowners. Only next of kin listed was Catalina Muñoz, but this place... She didn’t like how quiet it was.

It was massive. More than the two of them could search in under ten minutes. The structure sprawled out at the foot of the low-rising mountain at its back. Massive windows overlooked their position as she and Granger approached. Decorative pavers led them straight to a large overhang protecting the front door. Sunlight could barely reach into the cave-like space, and a tightness started in Scarlett’s chest. Etched glass rimmed gray double doors, but no light escaped from within.

They pressed their backs into the structure on either side of the door, weapons in hand. Waiting. Her breathing was headed toward the rafters, too high to control. Granger held up three fingers, and Scarlett nodded acknowledgment.

Three. Two. One.

She put everything she had into her heel and slammed it into the space beside the dead bolt. Aged wood gave under the force, and the door slammed back on its hinges. A wall of dust rained down into Scarlett’s face and collected at the back of her throat as she and Granger breached the door. This was it. This was how she made up for her mistakes.

They stepped into an oversize entryway—empty apart from a single circular table stylized with faux flowers and a stack of books. A cavern of white tile and double-story ceilings threatened to swallow them where they stood. Arches gave Scarlett a view into a sitting room off to the right decorated with ornate chairs she never would’ve felt comfortable sitting in. If she’d ever been invited to a cartel lieutenant’s home for dinner. Over-the-top vases stuffed with dead flowers peppered the room as they followed the flow of the home.

“Something’s not right here.” She didn’t know how else to explain it. This...knot behind her sternum. That part of her that wished she had Hans and Gruber at her side ached. She hadn’t realized how much she relied on them until now. How much she needed them. “You feel that?”

“Yeah. I feel it.” Granger moved into the kitchen, weapon raised high, as Scarlett pinpointed the command panel for the security system.

Holstering her weapon, she faced off with a rectangular gray cover equipped with a keyhole at the top, a camera to identify the user to the left, a card reader off to one side and a keypad with twelve digits on the other. The Ascent K2 model worked off a homeowner’s cellular data with a special SIM card installed in the phone with cloud-based access from anywhere in the world. She scanned the ceiling, spotting two cameras capable of visually identifying visitors or intruders just within range. More were likely installed throughout the house and around the property, but there wasn’t any indication the system was operational. The equipment wasn’t affected by temperature or power outages. So why hadn’t she and Granger set it off? “The system should’ve sent an alert the second we stepped onto the property.”

“I’m guessing whoever was here didn’t want to draw attention from law enforcement.” Granger’s even voice once again contradicted the words coming out of his mouth.

“Why do you say that?” She prodded both thumbs around the frame of the security panel, looking for a way past the keypad, keyhole, camera and card reader. Though if that were possible, this brand wouldn’t be one of the top-of-the-line systems in the world.

“Because of the dead guy in the kitchen,” Granger said.

Scarlett dropped her hands away from the panel, every cell in her body homed in on the pool of blood peeking out from behind the nearest kitchen cabinet at Granger’s feet. Dead guy. Not dead boy. Hope expanded in her chest as she rounded into the kitchen.

And froze.

“Hernando Muñoz.” Crude bandages had been wrapped around the ankle where Scarlett had sliced through the lieutenant’s Achilles tendon that night in the warehouse, but that wasn’t the source of all the blood. The handle of the blade dented Muñoz’s chest around the wound. “Stabbed. Like Agents Roday and Dunkeld.”

“Only whoever did this didn’t leave a badge this time.” Granger bent down, careful not to compromise the body. He pointed at one side of the bloody hole in Muñoz’s chest. “There’s something at the edge of the wound. Wedged in there. A business card, maybe. Hard to tell with all this blood.”

“It’s mine.” The voice cut through her, setting every nerve ending in her body on fire.

Scarlett confronted King as he shuffled into view. “What are you doing here? We haven’t cleared the rest of the house yet, and you agreed to stay in the car until I radioed you.”

“There’s nobody here.” Those three words shouldn’t have held so much weight to them. But King was right. They would’ve already come into contact with Muñoz’s soldiers already. King nodded at the body, his crutch offsetting the shift in his weight to the point he looked as though he’d fall at the slightest touch. “The card. It’s mine.”

“How can you be so sure?” Granger shoved to stand, holstering his weapon.

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