CHAPTER ONE

It was early afternoon when Corporal Jack Taggart slouched back in his office chair, massaging his temples with his fingertips. Unfortunately the images he’d seen a few hours earlier remained — along with any chance of erasing the knowledge of what had taken place next.
Three people had been tortured and murdered where they lived, in a farmhouse an hour’s drive away. The atrocity was horrible to see, and when he thought his brain couldn’t handle any more, he learned that a fourth murder had taken place at an unknown location somewhere else within the lower mainland. That victim was Damien Zabat — a man who’d recently given Jack infor-mation in exchange for keeping his wife and son out of jail. Damn it, Damien, I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen.
Staff Sergeant Rose Wood cleared her throat as she entered his office, and he sat up, hoping to hide his emotions. She was his boss and in charge of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Intelligence Unit in Vancouver. She was also a person he respected and liked, someone he protected by not sharing all the details of the methods he used — methods Jack referred to as the grey zone.
Rose’s arrival caused him to worry about someone else — Laura. She was more than his subordinate. She was his partner and his close friend. Both worked undercover together and she was not someone he hid details from. Their survival often hinged on their ability to instinctively know what the other thought and how the other would react when the unexpected happened. He glanced at her empty desk, then looked at Rose and raised an eyebrow.
Rose’s face expressed her concern. She sat down in Laura’s chair. “You were right to have me check on her. When I first went into the washroom she was hiding out in a stall. I could hear her sobbing.”
Pure E, you son-of-a-bitch. You’ll pay for this.
“I calmed her down. She’s quit crying but isn’t ready to come out yet. She’s still in shock … trembling.”
“Not to belittle your master’s in psychology, but should I go in and talk to her?”
“No. Definitely not you.” Rose’s tone was sharp.
“You say that like I’m to blame.”
He watched as Rose paused, as if she was unsure of how to respond.
Maybe it is my fault.
“I’m not blaming you,” she finally said, “but let me explain. Laura’s suffering from feelings of helplessness, intense fear, revulsion —”
“She said that?”
“Not in those exact words, but we discussed what you two have been through in the last week.”
In the last week? Try this morning.
“Her feelings were pretty obvious.” Rose appeared to study Jack’s face.
“What is it?” he asked, touching his face. “Blood on me from the crime scene?”
“No, but the dark circles and bags under your eyes say something. How much sleep have you had in the last couple of days?”
“I don’t know. Maybe three hours Tuesday and another three last night. Laura likely didn’t get much more.”
Rose shook her head. “That’s insane. Especially when you were undercover with someone who commits murder without hesitation.”
“It wasn’t like we had a choice. We did a UC with his associates Tuesday night in Vancouver. That set up our meeting with him in Victoria. Last night we did the arrest. By the time I did my notes, then caught the first ferry back … well, I’d hoped I’d be taking today off — until all hell broke loose.”
“Exhaustion compounds how Laura’s feeling, increases the stress she’s under.”
“Exhaustion, yes. But you said she felt helpless? She’s anything but helpless. Believe me, I couldn’t do what I do without her.”
Rose studied Jack’s face. “What you do is part of the problem. Six days ago you staged being shot — something Laura was against, despite her loyalty to you. But she felt helpless to put a stop to it because you’re her boss. And then when it did happen, it didn’t go according to plan and she thought you’d been killed.”
“I know, I know,” Jack muttered. “I feel bad about that. She made it clear from the beginning that she was against the idea.”
“As I’d have been … if I’d known,” Rose replied icily.
“You have to admit it worked. Damien thought Vicki tried to kill me. He never suspected she was my informant.”
Rose’s face hardened. “Don’t even go there. I told you what I’d do if you ever pulled a stunt like that again.”
“I know.”
“Then there was last night at the marina in Victoria. Laura heard the shot and again thought you’d been killed.”
“She thought the bad guy had fired. It was the cover team who let off a round.”
Rose sighed in exasperation. “Put yourself in her shoes. She was watching with binoculars when he pulled his gun. When the shot rang out, you dropped from sight below the gunwale on the boat. She thought you were dead.”
“I tackled the guy. I was fighting to save my life and there was —”
Rose put her hand up to silence him. “Jack, quit being defensive. I’m trying to explain to you why Laura feels helpless and why I want you to give her some space. In my opinion you’re in shock yourself. Yes, Laura was crying, but at least she’s able to express her emotions. You’re trying to bury everything.”
I’d like to bury Pure E.
“Being in denial will complicate and worsen your emotional well-being.”
Jack glared at the staff sergeant. “How do I deny that without proving your point?”
“I wasn’t making a point. It’s an observation. We’re discussing Laura. Twice within a week she thought you’d been killed.” Rose stopped for a moment, as if giving him time to let her words sink in. “Of course she felt helpless. Then there’s this morning. As soon as you get off the ferry you’re both taken to that farmhouse. How revolting was that? A man you set up to look like your informant murdered in that manner.”
Jack closed his eyes. Burned hair and blackened flesh — the smell is all over me. Wish I could go home and get these clothes off and shower.
“How do you feel about that?” Rose asked.
“How do I feel?” Jack was surprised by the question. “I’m angry! Three people tortured to death and later a fourth murdered because his own wife set him up. That was after he risked his life to save her. Damn right I’m angry! Aren’t you?”
“It’s upsetting.”
“Upsetting?” Jack exclaimed. “That’s an understatement. I expected Neal to be killed, but I’d no idea that Pure E would order the torture and murder of his brother and sister-in-law.”
“Neither did Laura, which adds to her feelings of helplessness, not to mention revulsion.”
“Her feeling of helplessness will pass once we do something about it,” Jack replied.
“And if you can’t do anything about it … how will she feel then?”
Jack was incensed. “Can’t do anything about it? You know me better than that!”
Rose’s face hardened. “I don’t like your tone — but will attribute it to exhaustion.” She paused, then added, “Don’t let anger cloud your judgment. You’re better than that.”
Cloud my judgment? It’ll hone it like a knife.
“Furthermore, I suggest you display a more professional attitude when we meet with Assistant Commissioner Isaac.” She glanced at her watch. “Which will be shortly, so get it together.”
Jack sighed. “Okay, I admit I’m tired. It’s difficult to stop thinking about the farmhouse.” Who wouldn’t stop thinking about it? Two grotesque figures … blackened and twisted, tied to chairs. The third disembowelled … He looked at Rose. “It makes me feel nauseated just thinking about it.”
“The same feeling I’m sure everyone has.”
Not Pure E. He ordered it.
“It’s bad enough hearing what happened in that farmhouse. You and Laura saw it. The both of you smell of … well, you know. If we weren’t meeting with Isaac, I’d send you home. I am sending her home right away — or at least as soon as she calms down.”
Jack nodded in agreement.
“Then there was the message left at the crime scene,” Rose added. “Seems right out of a horror movie.”
Yes. The 4 U JT painted across the wall with a broom dipped in blood. Jack felt his rage rise to the surface again. “Pure E made it personal. That’s something Damien would never have done.”
“Purvis Evans,” Rose said. “The new national president of Satans Wrath. After what happened, I’d say his nickname ‘Pure Evil’ or ‘Pure E’ is deserved.”
“‘Sick Bastard’ would suit him, too,” Jack replied bitterly.