Did You Miss Me? (26 page)

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Authors: Karen Rose

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Crime, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective

BOOK: Did You Miss Me?
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When Joseph went outside, he frowned. Dr Brodie had arrived in a CSU van, but so had the media and now TV vans lined the street. The officers who accompanied them had set a crime scene perimeter, but it wasn’t nearly far enough away. Having spotted the bundle in his arms, reporters crowded the crime scene tape.

‘How did they know?’ Joseph asked coldly.

Bo scowled from the doorway. ‘How do they ever know? One of the neighbors might have called or they might have even followed us up here.’

‘Hell.’ Joseph turned his back to them to keep them from photographing the baby as Dr Brodie trudged up the walk, her hands filled with her toolboxes.

‘Who have we here?’ she asked.

‘Melinda,’ Joseph said, tilting the baby away from his body enough to show her.

Brodie set her cases on the ground and reached, then grinned when Joseph reflexively backed away, cradling the baby closer to the warmth of his body. ‘So what are you going to do with her?’

Joseph looked down at the baby with a sigh. ‘Call a social worker, I guess.’

‘It’s awful cold out here,’ Bo said. ‘But she can’t stay in the house. Just in case they find another booby trap.’

‘One of the neighbors is a retired nurse.’ Joseph called over an officer, carefully transferred the infant to his arms, and pointed out the nurse, who still stood on the lawn.

When she saw Joseph point her out, the nurse ran over, taking off her own coat as she approached. ‘A little girl, Agent Carter?’ she asked.

‘Her name is Melinda. Would you mind if this officer keeps the baby in your house until the social worker gets here?’

‘Of course not.’ She wrapped the baby in her coat. ‘Come with me, Officer.’

He turned back to Brodie and Bo. ‘We may have a lead.’ He told them about the science teacher, the superglue, and the drugstore surveillance video.

Bo’s face lit up. ‘So Doug is real. Very nicely done.’

‘We could have his face in less than an hour,’ Brodie said. ‘I’ll get started on it.’

‘Thanks.’ Joseph didn’t smile. He had to call Daphne. He’d put it off long enough.

‘Agent Carter, Agent Lamar . . .’ Innis called from the doorway. His face was grim. ‘You need to see this. You too, Dr Brodie. You’ll need your equipment.’

Dread washed over Joseph. He followed Innis once again, this time down the stairs and into a basement room. ‘This is the room the next-door neighbor saw them in a few weeks ago,’ Joseph said. ‘The window is covered with black paper, just like she said.’

He turned and saw the wall behind him, his arm dropping to his side, his stomach dropping to his knees. ‘Oh my God,’ he whispered. ‘Oh my God.’

The seconds ticked as they stared at the wall, at the words that had been painted there with a wide brush. In blood.

Joseph read them aloud, his voice thick and hoarse. They were familiar. He’d heard them quoted recently, by Daphne.

“Now you know how it feels.


So much blood
. It was pooled on the floor, already congealing. A wide streak ran to the door that led to the garage, like someone had been dragged through the blood.

A pile of clothing had been left in the pooled blood on the floor. Joseph crouched beside it, dreading what he’d find. Brodie snapped photos, handing him a metal rod which he used to lift each item so that she could photograph them one by one.

On top was a striped rugby shirt that had absorbed the blood unevenly. The bottom was soaked, consistent with how it had folded on itself in the pile. The collar was saturated, still glossy and wet even though it hadn’t touched the pool of blood. Still untouched by the blood was the name of Ford’s university, stitched across the back.

‘Oh God,’ he whispered, his stomach turning over. He thought of Isaac Zacharias, lying in that alley, his throat slit wide open. Unlike the alley, the wall in front of them was covered in spatter. ‘His throat must have been slit. And he was alive at the time.’

Brodie cleared her throat roughly. ‘It appears so. It also appears he put up a fight.’ She pointed to the collar, where dozens of short blond hairs lay at haphazard angles.

‘His hair was yanked out during the struggle,’ she said, then removed a wallet from the back pocket of the jeans that were next in the pile. When she opened it, Ford’s face stared out at them from his driver’s license.

Any hope Joseph still clung to disappeared like mist.

Brodie dropped the wallet into an evidence bag and using a pair of tongs, lifted the jeans. At the bottom of the pile, covered in blood, was a gold watch. Carefully she picked it up, held it to the light. ‘It’s a Rolex. The back says “Elkhart”.’

Joseph choked back the bile that had risen to burn his throat.

We’re too late
.

Chapter Eleven

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Tuesday, December 3, 7.15
P.M.

P
ennsylvania State Trooper Jim Gargano lived in a two-story house at the end of a dead-end road. Lights were on in the living room and two upstairs bedrooms.

‘This is it,’ Clay said.

Alec stopped the car on the curb. ‘No trooper car in the driveway.’

‘Trooper Gargano was banned from using a take-home car again,’ Clay said. He re-read the email Alyssa had sent on the investigation. ‘He reported the theft of his weapons as soon as he discovered they were missing. The department found him in violation of policy. He insisted he’d locked his gun safe, but the department could find no reason that the safe would have malfunctioned.’

‘So he was screwed.’

‘Basically. The thief took the tasers, his service weapon, and a bunch of antiques, then found the keys to the cruiser and drove off in it with everything he’d stolen plus Gargano’s uniforms and the SWAT uniforms that were in the trunk of the car. He filed a claim with his insurance and got a settlement, which the department found suspicious. They never actually accused him of insurance fraud, but that’s how they treated it. He was suspended for two weeks without pay, took a permanent pay cut, lost his rank.’

‘That sucks,’ Alec said, frowning. ‘I’d have quit.’

‘He probably wanted to, but he’s only a year away from retirement and he wants his pension.’ He closed the email and checked his texts.

‘Anything new from Paige?’ Alec asked.

‘Nothing on the house raids yet.’ Paige had been texting him with the updates she’d learned from Joseph Carter. Now Clay knew that the knife used to slit Tuzak’s throat was the same knife Reggie had used on the courtroom deputy. He knew to look for a guy named Doug who’d sold the knife to George. And finally, he knew to pray because by now Carter and a SWAT team should be converging on a house in Timonium where Ford’s abductor might be hiding him. ‘You coming with me?’

Alec’s eyes widened. ‘Me? I thought I was just the driver.’

‘I changed my mind,’ Clay said. The kid noticed things that other people didn’t. ‘Get your gear and follow me. And close your mouth before the birds fly in.’

Clay’s knock was answered by Gargano. Who immediately slammed the door.

‘That went well,’ Alec murmured.

Clay knocked again. And a third time. The door opened again, but this time Trooper Gargano was armed. In one hand he held a Glock, his finger on the trigger. In the other hand he held a cordless phone, his finger poised over the keypad. ‘Go the fuck away.’

‘I’m not a cop,’ Clay said. ‘And I’m not selling anything.’

Gargano’s eyes were cold. ‘Then you’re a reporter and I hate them even more.’

‘I’m not a reporter,’ Clay shouted as the door was slammed again. ‘Dammit.’

Alec pulled out his cell phone, did a quick search, punched in a few buttons. Then he connected the phone to his cochlear implant with a special cord and waited.

‘Got the answering machine,’ he said to Clay. A few seconds later he said, ‘Hello, sir. I’m standing on your doorstep. We have a dead friend with two of your X2 cartridges in him. If this is one of those seriously old-fashioned answering machines and you can hear me, please pick up. If it’s voicemail, I hope you listen in the next few minutes—’

The door opened. Gargano was still armed, but most of his anger was gone. ‘Who the hell are you people?’

‘My name is Clay Maynard. I’m a PI. This is my associate, Alec Vaughn. We’re from Baltimore.’

‘I figured as much. You’re really late. The other guy left two hours ago.’

‘Would you mind telling me who was here two hours ago?’

‘Yes, I mind. You said your dead friend has my cartridges in him. How?’

‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. I run a security firm. The victim was one of my contract employees, an off-duty cop doing after hours bodyguard work.’ Clay gauged the man’s reaction and decided he needed to lay it on a little more thickly. ‘He was trying to make a little extra for his fourth kid that’s due any day.’

Gargano looked suspicious. ‘Quite a story.’

‘It’s true. You’ve heard about the shooting spree at the Baltimore courthouse?’

There was a flicker in Gargano’s eyes. ‘You were there?’

‘Yes. I got there just as the shooting started.’

‘Why were you there?’

‘I’ve given you some information. I want a little from you.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because two of your cartridges ended up in my dead friend.’

He and Gargano locked stares. Finally Gargano blinked. ‘It was a Fed.’

Clay sighed. ‘White hair, creepy eyes?’

Gargano grimaced. ‘Hell, yeah. What’s with him, anyway?’

‘Personally, I have no idea. Professionally, we have the same objective. Two kidnapped college kids. We want them back. Before they’re dead too.’

Gargano looked upward and Clay guessed one of the upstairs lights belonged to his own kid. ‘What do you want to know?’

Beside him Alec’s teeth were chattering. ‘It’s freezing cold. Can we come in?’

‘Are you carrying?’

‘Yes. He’s not, though.’ Clay looked at Alec doubtfully. ‘Tell me you’re not.’

‘Okay, I’m not,’ Alec said. ‘Really, I’m not.’

‘Let me see your ID,’ Gargano said, then nodded when Clay showed it to him. ‘Keep your hands where I can see them. I don’t trust anybody anymore.’

‘I can understand that.’ Clay sat down on a well-worn sofa and put his hands on his thighs. Alec sat beside him, looking around the room, openly curious.

I’m going to have to teach the kid a little subtlety
.


All right,’ Clay said once Gargano had sat down. ‘I think the question of the day is how your taser cartridges ended up in an alley in Baltimore. The cop’s name was Isaac Zacharias. He was providing security for a young man named Ford Elkhart. Ford was last seen in Baltimore, walking his girlfriend to her car after a movie. They cut through an alley and the abductor was waiting. He didn’t know about Zacharias, though.’

‘Zacharias was tased?’

‘And then drugged. His killer slit his throat with a non-metal blade.’

‘The blade’s not mine, I can tell you that for certain. I don’t keep blades.’

‘Then do you know anybody named Doug?’

‘No.’ There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition in Gargano’s eyes.

‘Kimberly?’

‘No.’ But he frowned. ‘The Fed asked me about Kimberly, but not Doug.’

‘He might not have known about Doug yet. He’ll be back. What did you tell him?’

‘Nothing more than he could have read in the police report. Because there isn’t anything else,’ Gargano said, frustration making his tone harsh.

‘There has to be,’ Clay said. ‘We just haven’t found it yet. Did Novak tell you why he’d asked about Kimberly?’

‘Just that she’d been kidnapped with the Elkhart boy.’

‘She has a record for theft. She stole a ring from a home she was cleaning.’

‘Novak did ask me if we had a cleaning service. I laughed at him. We’re barely surviving now, putting one daughter through college and saving for the younger one.’

‘And then they cut your pay,’ Clay said and watched Gargano’s eyes flash fury.

‘Yeah, well, they’re all sonsofbitches,’ he said bitterly. ‘I was a damn good cop. Nineteen years without a single blemish on my record. And they turned on me.’

‘Daddy?’ The alarmed little voice came from upstairs. ‘Are you all right?’

Gargano hid his gun between the chair cushions before looking over his shoulder with a smile. ‘Go back to your room, MeiMei,’ he said gently, lovingly. ‘Daddy’s fine.’

Clay’s ears perked up. MeiMei? It was a Chinese endearment meaning ‘little sister’.

‘Who are those men?’ she pressed, coming down a few more steps. She was about nine years old and had black hair. She was Chinese.

Quickly Clay scanned the room for a family photo, but saw none. Was Mrs Gargano Asian or was the little girl adopted? Gargano had just said he was putting a daughter through college. Was she adopted too? Like Kimberly MacGregor?

Beside him, Alec sat up straighter. He’d made the connection too.
Smart kid
.

‘They’re just visiting, honey. Go back upstairs and finish your homework. Mom will be home from work soon and she’ll want to see it done.’ The little girl did as she was told and Gargano’s gun hand reappeared. He still had his finger on the trigger.

Clay barely noticed. His mind was spinning. ‘You called your daughter MeiMei.’

‘Yes. So?’

‘She’s Chinese. Adopted, yes?’

‘Yes. We adopted her when she was six months old.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

‘Your older daughter,’ Clay pressed. ‘The one in college. Is she also Chinese?’

Gargano’s face darkened. ‘What the hell is this?’ He stood up. ‘You need to leave.’

‘I’m sorry. Wait.’ Clay lifted his hands, palm out. ‘Kimberly MacGregor is also Chinese, adopted by her family. Aren’t there groups for families who adopt from specific parts of the world? Is it possible your daughter met Kimberly at a local function?’

This made Gargano even angrier. ‘Are you saying my daughter stole from me?’

‘No, not at all. But what if she knew Kimberly, trusted her, invited her in, unwittingly gave her access? We know Kimberly stole once. Maybe she stole from you, too.’

Gargano’s expression changed from fury to stunned disbelief. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Can we talk to her, your older daughter? Please, this is important.’

‘Yes, of course. She’s lives in the dorm.’

‘In Baltimore?’ Clay asked.

‘No, why?’

‘That’s where Kimberly goes to school.’

‘My daughter didn’t go away to school. She’s here, in the city, but living on campus. She’s a freshman at Drexel in Philly. She doesn’t have a car, so we’ll have to go to her. If we can make this connection stick, I can appeal my demotion.’


After
I find my missing college kids.’

‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ Gargano holstered the gun and ran to the staircase. ‘Jessica, we need to leave the house, baby. Get your coat and bring some homework.’

‘Clay,’ Alec said urgently. ‘Look.’

Pushing himself to his feet, Clay looked over his shoulder and blinked. Alec had grabbed a chair from the dining room table and was standing on it, staring between the vent blades of the heating duct on the ceiling. ‘What the
hell
, Alec?’

‘Good God!’ Gargano shouted. ‘Were you raised in a barn? Get down now!’

‘In a minute,’ Alec said, pulling a penknife from his pocket. ‘This’ll be worth it.’

‘You said he wasn’t armed,’ Gargano said accusingly.

‘It’s just a screwdriver set.’ Alec held it out for Gargano to see. ‘Was your gun safe against that wall?’ he asked, pointing to a large built-in bookcase. A large rectangular area was empty, shelves having been built around it.

‘It was. I got rid of it after the theft. Why?’

Alec unscrewed the vent cover and grinned. ‘Right there in the duct. A camera.’

‘In my heating duct? Why the hell would a thief leave a camera in my duct?’

‘To watch you dialing your safe’s combo,’ Alec said. ‘I’ve heard of this before, but usually when the safe contains high value goods, like trade secrets or diamonds. Whoever did this went to some trouble. They knew you’d have something they wanted.’

‘But why me?’ Gargano asked, bewildered.

‘We’ll ask Kimberly – if we find her,’ Clay said. ‘For now, this explains a lot.’

‘It does,’ Gargano said, new hope in his eyes. Footsteps clattered down the stairs and Gargano met his daughter with a huge smile, swinging her in a circle that had her squealing with delight. ‘Let’s go for a ride,
MeiMei
. We need to talk to your sister.’

Baltimore, Maryland, Tuesday, December 3, 7.30
P.M.

The conference room was silent except for the sound of Daphne’s boots as she paced. Paige was out in the hallway, doing a
kata
, one of the ways she relaxed.

Daphne stopped pacing long enough to watch her. It was a little like ballet, Daphne thought, lithe and fluid. Powerful.

And then Daphne saw Grayson at the other end of the hall. He was watching Paige, his expression intense. Paige saw him watching and came out of a spinning kick, landing gracefully in front of him and walking straight into his arms.

Daphne turned away, her throat suddenly too tight to breathe.
I want that
.
I want someone to look at me like I’m everything
.
That can’t be too much to ask
.
Can it?

She closed the door to the conference room and walked to the window. Resting her forehead against the cold glass she tried not to fall apart. But the walls she’d built in her mind had broken down and all she could think about was Ford.

Where are you? Are you still alive? Are they hurting you? Please don’t be hurting
. She opened her eyes to stare at the snow that had started to fall.
Please don’t be cold
.

The door opened and Grayson and Paige came in together. In the glass Daphne could see that neither of them smiled. Her blood suddenly colder than the glass, Daphne turned to look at them. She opened her mouth, but no words emerged.

The floor began to shake. Someone was running. The shaking slowed and Grayson moved away from the door. Joseph was walking toward her. His eyes were bleak.

Hector and Coppola were leaving, Grayson motioning them out. Daphne took a step back and hit the window, the cold a jolt to her body. ‘No.’

This isn’t happening
.
Wake up, dammit
.
Wake up, because this isn’t real
.

‘Daphne.’ Joseph’s voice was rough.
Real
.

Unable to run, she stared up into his face as he walked to her and took her into his arms. ‘No,’ she whispered.

‘We found a crime scene at Odum’s house. We found Ford’s watch. Some of his other personal effects.’ He drew a breath. ‘He could still be alive. But we found blood. A lot of it. We have to face the fact that he could be . . . in trouble.’

She wanted to look away. Run away. Cover her ears and not hear. But her body wouldn’t move. Trapped, she stared up at Joseph. ‘Where is he? Where is my son?’

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