Page 20 of So Savage (Faith Bold #21)

Faith’s good feelings faded when she saw Delgado. The woman had been beaten until she was nearly unrecognizable. Underneath all of the tubes and wires and bandages, Faith caught glimpses of swollen, purple skin, misshapen features and dried blood. Her eyes were puffy, her nose crushed and bent sideways, her ears pulped.

And she was in a coma. In the joy of her victory, Faith had forgotten how broad the definition of “alive” was in the medical sense.

"She's got a list of injuries that's miles long," Marcus told her. "Nine of her ribs were broken, both her arms and one of her legs. She has two skull fractures, a broken nose, and five herniated discs. Numerous ruptured internal organs, frostbite on four of her fingers…" He sighed. "And she's in a coma. Doctors need to keep her that way for several days at least to try to give her some chance to heal. Maybe even longer than that. They don't know if they'll be able to wake her up when the time comes." He shook his head. "He beat her bad . This is among the worst things I’ve ever seen. Definitely the worst thing I’ve seen someone survive.

An old memory came to Faith, a vivid reminder of when she had been left in a similar state.

Jethro Trammell, the Donkey Killer, approached slowly, his eyes gleaming with insanity. He approached Faith and leaned close, a manic grin splitting his face. Faith’s nostrils flared as his sour breath wafted across her face.

He showed her his knife, the blade rusty and pitted save for the edge which was polished and sharpened so that it gleamed bone-white in the soft light that filtered through the barn’s window. “Let’s see how you bleed, little girl.”

Trammell had cut Faith’s knees first. Then he’d severed her Achilles tendons. He’d cut the tendons in her elbow, and then Faith had passed out. She woke up in the hospital to learn that Trammell had cut her over forty times before Michael arrived and killed him with a single gunshot to the head.

She’d spent time in a coma too. A week? Two? She couldn’t remember.

She shivered and looked away. Marcus looked at her, and an unspoken agreement passed between them to leave the room. They stepped outside, but Turk lingered for a little while longer. Maybe he was remembering the day he met Faith. Faith was conscious when Michael introduced them, but she was covered in bandages and wires just like Delgado was.

“How’s her dog?” she asked.

“Her dog? Fine. He’s anxious without Delgado, but he’s behaving himself.” He looked into the room. “I don’t think we should bring him to see this, though. I can’t imagine it’ll help him to see her like this.”

Faith didn't know either. Maybe it would bring him some hope. Maybe it would bring him closure. Maybe those were only human emotions, and seeing his handler beaten nearly to death would only make him sad.

“It’s too bad she was sedated,” Marcus said. “If she was conscious, she might have been able to protect herself.”

“Maybe,” Faith said. “Maybe not. No one likes to admit it, but the reality is that size matters. A two-hundred-pound man who’s dedicated enough is going to overpower a one-hundred-thirty-pound woman. A woman trained to box will have an advantage over a woman not trained to box, but unless she gets a lucky knock out, she’s going to have a really hard time winning. That’s why we train our agents to aim for places like the groin, eye and throat in a life-or-death situation.”

She shook her head. “Let’s get out of here. I need to think, and I can’t do it looking at her. That sounds horrible, I know, but I was in the hospital once after a killer hurt me, and I can’t…” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Let’s grab some food in the cafeteria. We’ll touch base there.”

“I’m with you.”

"Turk? Come on, boy."

Turk lingered for a half-second longer, then turned slowly and followed Faith out of the room. He hung his head low and whined softly. Faith stopped and pulled him into a hug, burying her face in his coat and taking long, steady breaths. She could feel eyes on her as nurses and orderlies watched the FBI agent hugging a dog in the middle of their floor, but she didn’t care. Seeing Delgado like that had awoken memories that she would have preferred to leave buried.

But that’s not how it worked. Wounds healed, but they left scars. Hers had been dormant for a long time, but maybe it was more correct to say concealed than dormant. Seeing Delgado clinging to life reminded her what it felt like to be powerless. Like Delgado, she was trained to fight. Like Delgado, she had combat experience. Like Delgado, it hadn’t mattered. Jethro Trammell had overpowered her effortlessly, and it was only because of Michael’s intervention that she was alive.

She and Marcus got lunch and more coffee and sat at a table that was somewhat removed from the rest of the cafeteria. The lunch rush was picking up, so they wouldn’t have privacy for very long, but that was all right. People here were more wrapped up in their own problems than in what was happening around them.

Probably one of the few circumstances where it’s all right to be self-absorbed.

Turk stayed close to Faith, keeping his eyes on her and laying his head in her lap when they sat. His presence slowly calmed her, and after finishing her chicken salad, she was ready to get back to work.

“So I think it’s safe to say that we’re looking for a male suspect. I was fairly sure of that already, but the use of the sedatives made me wonder.”

“Do you think he changed his M.O. because she was female?” Marcus asked.

Faith shook his head. "I think he got angry because he was interrupted. The first two kills were quick and clean. He was in and out before he could be noticed. This time, she resisted, and based on Wayne's testimony and the evidence at the scene, she resisted effectively, at least at first. By the time he was able to sedate her, security was coming, and he had to leave before he killed her."

"So he wanted to get hands-on with her because he was pissed off."

“That’s my guess.”

Marcus scoffed. “What a coward.”

“They usually are.”

Michael took a deep breath. “Okay, so we have a male with anger issues, but as long as things go his way, they don’t surface. He’s got to be big and strong because he carried an unconscious woman for at least a mile, and he had to do that while moving quickly in deep snow. Does this fit the description of James Cooper?”

“Yes. James is six-four, two-thirty according to his driver’s license, and just based on the picture, most of that weight looks like muscle.” She stiffened. “Damn it. I forgot about James. Shit.”

“It’s all right,” Marcus said. “I sent units to watch the old dog training facility on Beakman.”

“How did you know where to go?”

“All of our vehicles have GPS tags. I got the coordinates and sent them there.”

Faith sighed with relief. “Thank you. Sorry. I’ve just been all over the place.”

Marcus gave her a serious look. “You need to take a break.”

She shook her head. “I can’t take a break. Our killer’s still on the loose, and he’s moving fast.”

“Go take a nap,” he repeated. “You’ve been up for almost thirty-six hours. The military branches in the area are discontinuing training activities and restricting their handlers from traveling alone. I understand your concerns, but if we’re going to find this guy, I need you to be one hundred percent. No offense, but I think your exhaustion has left you a little burned out.”

Faith wanted to protest, but she knew he was right. It wasn’t just exhaustion affecting her either. It was the sight of Delgado bringing up memories of her own ordeal in the hospital. It was the fact that her real partner was back in Philadelphia handling the case she should have been running while she was in Minnesota dealing with a killer whose methods brought back the worst memories of her life.

She nodded. “All right. I’ll drive the truck back to the station and take a nap in the cab. Call me if you get any more information or if Delgado wakes up.”

“If you’re gonna nap in the cab, then park the car outside and keep the engine running and the heater on. Otherwise, you’ll freeze to death.”

She chuckled. “Maybe I’ll just help myself to one of the killer’s darts and slow my metabolism enough to survive extreme cold.” He stared at her for a moment, and she sighed. “Yeah, that was a bad joke. You’re right, I need sleep.”

“Maybe keep the truck parked in the hospital lot instead of driving back to the station.”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

She got to her feet and headed for the exit, just as Marcus’s phone rang. When he answered and said, “You found him?” she spun around and rushed back to the table.

“They have James Cooper?” she asked.

Marcus held up a hand. “And you’ve positively identified him?” After a brief pause, he smiled. “Wonderful. We’re on our way.”

He hung up and looked at Faith. “I take it back. They got James Cooper. You’ll have to nap later.”

“That’s fine with me,” Faith replied.

“And I’m driving.”

She handed him the keys. “Fine with me too. Come on, boy!”

Turk got to his feet and followed the two investigators from the room. Faith was no longer exhausted. In fact, there was a bounce in her step as they walked across the parking lot to the truck.

Just when they hit a wall, another path had opened up. They hadn’t lost yet.