Twisted Pursuit (Eden Mercer K-9 Mystery Thriller Book 5) by Paige Black

Author:Paige Black [Black, Paige]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

Running Bear’s boots echoed off the worn linoleum as she pushed through the substation’s front door, the familiar smell of stale coffee and dusty files greeting her. Storm bounded up from where she’d been dozing under Eloise’s desk, tail wagging as she pressed against her handler’s legs.

“Records came in,” Eloise called out, not looking up from her two-finger typing. “Left them on your desk. Fingerprints too.”

“Thanks.” She scratched Storm’s ears, giving her dog a playful hello. “Anything useful?”

Eloise shrugged. “You’ll have to see about the records. But fingerprints? Looks like they were just Sammy’s and that gal Maggie Roden’s.”

She raised her brows. “We had them on file already?”

Eloise scrunched up her face. “For clearance working with cops. No criminal records.”

Running Bear shouldn’t be disappointed, but she was. “Anything else come up while I was gone?”

“Just the usual. Tommy Wilson’s goats got loose again.” Eloise’s long red nails clacked against her ancient keyboard. “Oh, and someone spray-painted a ‘member’ on the welcome sign. Third time this month.”

“Probably teenagers.” Running Bear managed a tired smile as she headed to her cramped office, Storm padding silently beside her. The manila envelope sitting on her desk drew her attention immediately. Finally, the phone records and cloud storage data that might tell her what Sammy knew before he died.

She settled into her creaking chair, Storm lying at her feet as she pulled out the first stack of papers. Time to see what secrets Sammy Reeves took to his grave.

Running Bear spread the records across her desk, squinting at the tiny print. Storm shifted at her feet, settling in for what they both knew would be a long session. The cell tower data looked frustratingly normal—just regular pings around town and out by his trailer, nothing suggesting Sammy had ventured anywhere unusual in the weeks before his death.

But the call logs… She leaned forward, finger tracing down columns of numbers and time stamps. Three months ago, there had been a flurry of activity between Sammy and Marcus Hawthorne’s number. Multiple calls daily, some lasting over an hour, others just a few seconds. Text messages exchanged late into the night. Then suddenly, nothing—right around when Sammy had quit the team.

“What were you two talking about?” she murmured, making notes on her legal pad. The timing couldn’t be coincidental, and she had a feeling these weren’t just friendly conversations.

After that, radio silence from the entire team. No calls from Lisa, Tam, Keith, or Brock. It was like Sammy had been completely cut off—or had cut himself off. Running Bear knew how tight-knit SAR teams usually were. This level of isolation wasn’t normal.

A number she didn’t recognize caught her eye—frequent texts and calls in the weeks leading up to Sammy’s death. She cross-referenced it against her list of team members’ contact information, frowning when it didn’t match any of them.

Storm’s ears pricked up at her handler’s sudden intake of breath. Running Bear sat back, a piece clicking into place. She pulled up her notes from the initial investigation, and there it was—Maggie Roden’s cell number.

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