Chapter 6 - TITAN GETS UP“No.”
That was the veterinarian’s answer.
Not maybe.
Not let me think about it.
No.
“You are not taking that dog anywhere.”
Dr. Melissa Grant stood between me and Titan’s kennel with both arms crossed.
Behind her, Titan was sleeping beneath a warming blanket.
His swollen leg was wrapped.
“He can barely stand.”
“I know.”
“He suffered a serious envenomation less than forty-eight hours ago.”
“I know.”
“Then why are we having this conversation?”
“Because a seven-year-old girl has been kidnapped.”
“That does not magically make Titan medically capable of working.”
I looked through the glass.
Caleb wanted Titan.
Every officer in the room knew it was a trap.
The question was whether we could use that trap against him.
Detective Kim had already contacted FBI hostage specialists.
No one wanted Titan actually placed in danger.
The plan was simple in theory.
Make Caleb believe Titan was coming.
Use tracking technology.
Draw him into communication.
Find Lily.
But we needed proof of life and a meeting location.
Caleb hadn’t called again.
Dr. Grant shook her head.
“You can photograph him. Film him. Do whatever police work you need from here. But Titan stays.”
“I agree.”
She blinked.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
I had learned something at Centennial Park.
Trust the dog.
But don’t sacrifice him.
Titan had already given enough.
We recorded a short video.
I stood beside Titan while holding that day’s newspaper.
“Caleb, you wanted Titan. He’s alive. You want us, call me.”
Nothing else.
Police released it through a channel Caleb was monitoring.
Twenty-three minutes later, my phone rang.
“You think I’m stupid?”
His voice sounded distorted.
“No.”
“Then bring him.”
“Show me Lily.”
A pause.
Then a video arrived.
Lily sat on a concrete floor.
Her hands weren’t tied.
She looked frightened but physically unharmed.
Behind her was a wall painted pale green.
Somewhere in the background, machinery hummed.
“Lily,” Caleb said from behind the camera. “Tell your mom you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
Then Lily looked directly at the camera.
“Titan shouldn’t come.”
My throat tightened.
Caleb laughed.
“She likes the dog more than you.”
“Most people do.”
“Midnight.”
“Where?”
“You’ll know.”
The video ended.
Kim immediately handed it to analysts.
We studied every frame.
Concrete floor.
Green wall.
Industrial noise.
A tiny rectangular window.
Lily’s hair moved slightly.
Airflow.
Maybe ventilation.
Marcus replayed the audio.
“What’s that?”
A faint horn sounded in the distance.
Then another.
“Train?” I asked.
Kim nodded.
“Could be.”
A second analyst isolated background noise.
Rail crossing bell.
Industrial compressor.
Water.
That narrowed possibilities.
Not enough.
Then Lily did something on the video.
She scratched her cheek.
Three times.
Paused.
Then twice.
Rachel saw it.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“That’s our game.”
“What game?”
“When Lily gets nervous, we do scavenger hunts. I give her numbers. Three-two means…”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Third word, second letter.”
“Of what?”
“She needs something written.”
We replayed the video.
Behind Lily was a faded safety poster.
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Third word.
ONLY.
Second letter.
N.
Then Lily scratched twice.
One time.
Second word, first letter.
PERSONNEL.
P.
N. P.
Nothing.
Unless the poster wasn’t the reference.
Rachel leaned closer.
“Her eyes.”
Lily repeatedly glanced left.
There was another sign partially visible.
NORTH PIER STORAGE FACILITY.
Kim froze the frame.
North Pier.
We had a location.
Seattle police moved fast.
But Caleb anticipated that.
Minutes before tactical teams arrived, another message came.
Wrong building.
The facility was empty.
Except for a phone playing a recorded loop of industrial noise.
Caleb had staged the background.
But he had made a mistake.
The phone was connected to an old speaker system.
Forensics traced its purchase.
A thrift store.
Security video showed Caleb buying it.
Behind him in the parking lot was another vehicle.
A white utility van.
License plate visible.
Registered to a shuttered landscaping company.
Traffic cameras picked up the van moving south.
Then east.
Eventually disappearing near a series of abandoned greenhouses outside the city.
We had our next search zone.
At 11:30 p.m., I sat beside Titan.
“You’d hate this.”
His eyes opened.
“We found her, maybe.”
Titan lifted his head.
“Yeah.”
I scratched his neck.
“You’re staying here.”
He tried to stand.
“No.”
Titan stood anyway.
His injured leg trembled.
“Titan, down.”
He looked at me.
Then took one step.
Dr. Grant appeared behind me.
“Absolutely not.”
Titan took another.
Then his leg buckled.
I caught him.
“Stubborn idiot.”
He leaned against me.
Dr. Grant helped lower him.
“He knows something’s wrong.”
“He knows Lily’s missing.”
She gave me the veterinarian look.
“You’re anthropomorphizing.”
“Probably.”
Titan whined.
I looked at her.
She sighed.
“Fine. Maybe a little.”
My phone buzzed.
Kim.
“We found the van.”
“Where?”
“Old nursery complex near Issaquah.”
“Lily?”
“Unknown.”
“I’m coming.”
I leaned toward Titan.
“Stay.”
His eyes followed me.
“This time, that’s an order.”
At the nursery, rain had finally started.
Cold sheets of it swept across abandoned greenhouses.
SWAT surrounded the property.
Thermal drones searched roofs and structures.
The van was empty.
But inside were Lily’s pink gloves.
Rachel identified them.
She broke down when she saw the evidence photo.
Kim took my arm.
“Cole, focus.”
“I am.”
“No. You’re angry.”
“You’d be angry.”
“Yes. But you’re carrying a gun.”
Point taken.
We entered the first greenhouse.
Broken glass crunched under our boots.
Rows of dead planting tables stretched into darkness.
Nothing.
Second greenhouse.
Empty.
Third.
A child’s shoe.
Pink.
My heart hammered.
“Lily!”
No answer.
Then we heard a dog barking.
Not Titan.
Somewhere beyond the greenhouse.
We moved toward it.
A small maintenance building stood near the rear fence.
Door locked.
SWAT breached it.
Inside was an old German shepherd in a crate.
Terrified.
Beside the crate was a laptop.
On the screen:
YOU KEEP FOLLOWING THE WRONG DOG.
Kim cursed.
Then the German shepherd barked again.
Three times.
Stopped.
Three more.
He was staring toward the floor.
I followed his gaze.
A trapdoor.
We opened it.
Concrete stairs descended underground.
Cold air rose.
Kim called for the tactical team.
We went down.
The tunnel beneath the greenhouse was old, probably part of a utility system.
Thirty yards in, we found Lily’s other shoe.
Then blood.
A small smear.
My stomach turned.
“Lily!”
A faint voice answered.
“Officer Cole?”
We ran.
The tunnel opened into a maintenance chamber.
Lily sat against the wall.
Alive.
Alone.
I dropped beside her.
“Are you hurt?”
“My foot.”
A cut.
Nothing worse.
“Where’s Caleb?”
She pointed toward another tunnel.
“He left.”
“When?”
“When he heard the police.”
Kim radioed units.
I lifted Lily.
She wrapped both arms around my neck.
Then whispered something.
“He said he was going to get Titan himself.”
My blood froze.
I grabbed my radio.
“Veterinary hospital, lockdown immediately.”
No response.
Again.
“Unit at veterinary hospital, respond.”
Static.
Then dispatch.
“Officer Cole, hospital unit is not answering.”
I handed Lily to Kim.
Marcus was already running.
We raced toward the vehicles.
My phone rang.
Dr. Grant.
I answered.
Her voice was whispering.
“He’s here.”
“Caleb?”
“I think so.”
“Where are you?”
“Supply room.”
“Where’s Titan?”
Silence.
“Doctor, where is Titan?”
“He opened the kennel.”
My heart stopped.
Then, through the phone, I heard it.
A familiar growl.
Titan.
Followed by Caleb’s voice.
“Well, hero.”
A metallic click.
May you like
A gun being cocked.
“Let’s see if you’re still brave.”
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