Page 61 of Vanish From Sight

“Ah, shut your noise!” McKenzie said.

“McKenzie. Get in. They’ve probably gone to get him.”

McKenzie returned. Noah tried the buzzer again. “Hello? Mr. Sawyer. I’m an investigator from State. We need to speak with you. Could you pull the dog back and open the gate?”

He released the button and waited. Then the same voice from earlier came back on the line. “You got a badge?”

Noah took it out and waved it toward the angled cameras.

“Can’t see it,” the voice replied.

He stretched it out a little further.

“All right,” the voice said.

There was a short pause before the door to one of the offices opened farther down and a large African American stepped out. He was sporting a blue shirt with the top button undone, a pair of black slacks and highly polished shoes. He let out a whistle and the dog retreated into the office. The guy disappeared back out of view and then the gate groaned open. He reappeared a moment later, standing in the doorway.

Noah drove through and parked off to the right of the building. He got out and was about to approach when the guy hollered, “That’s close enough. Whatever you need to say, you can do it from there.”

“You Nate Sawyer?”

“I am.”

Noah looked off to his left then back at him. “Sir, it’s probably best we go inside.”

“Why did you look toward the gate?” Nate asked, looking a little skittish.

“Can’t be too careful. Look, we’re here about Katherine Evans.”

Nate squinted. “Zeus. Sic ’em!”

“What?” McKenzie blurted.

In an instant, the dog shot out of the office, darting toward them. McKenzie bolted back to the Bronco. Noah reached for his service weapon, intent on scaring the dog off. But the dog was too quick. Before he managed to withdraw it, the beast was on him, knocking him to the ground and latching on to his forearm. Fortunately, he was wearing a thick jacket, otherwise the dog’s jaws would have made quick work of a suit. Still, Noah writhed in agony as it yanked at his arm, tearing through the jacket. He had every right to shoot the dog but it had a hold of his gun arm.

“McKenzie!” Noah shouted.

If there was ever a time he wished he had Axel, it was now. He loved dogs but the merciless beast was rag dolling him. Out the corner of his eye he saw Nate sprint for a nearby truck.

Crack.

A round boomed.

Now he knew what McKenzie had gone for. The shotgun between the seats. The dog yelped, let go and streaked away back into the safety of the office.

“I didn’t say shoot the damn thing,” Noah yelled as he scrambled to his feet and ran toward Nate’s truck, hoping to stop him before he could swing out of the property. The truck was too fast. Nate floored it but not before Noah latched on to the back of the tailgate. His feet dragged behind him as it tore out of the gate, bounced over the curb and headed north to what would become Route 86.

Noah had only once seen this happen in his career, and it was back when he was a regular state trooper. The officer he trained under had stopped an unlicensed vehicle. He was in the process of getting the driver out when the vehicle tore away. The officer had half of his body through the driver’s side, trying to get at the keys. Eventually the driver shook him off and they ended up catching the guy one state over.

His partner had ended up in the hospital for a couple of days with a broken arm, and multiple scratches and bruises. He was lucky.

Noah figured he might not be.

“Shut off the vehicle!” Noah yelled but his voice was lost in the roar of the engine. Was Sawyer even aware that he was dragging him? Releasing his grip seemed the most logical thing to do, but at the speed he was going, having his skull bounce off the asphalt might have been game over. Instead, Noah hung on for dear life, his boots trailing behind him as he tried to pullhimself up while the truck slowed to take the T-junction off Old Military Road and 86. By a stroke of luck or fate, as the truck turned, Noah managed to get a forearm over the tailgate, keeping his body high up on the back.

An engine roared behind them.

Noah cast a glance over his shoulder to see his Bronco driven by McKenzie closing in on them. Wind blew grit up in his face, making him squint as Sawyer tried to shake him off the tailgate. But that wasn’t happening.