Did You Miss Me? (52 page)

‘No, you were right. I kept important information from you. You had every right to be angry. Maybe not to express it like you did, but that is what it is. I left my farm eight years ago because Daphne needed me. She doesn’t need me anymore. She’s got you and Ford. Grayson and Paige and Clay. And now Joseph.’ She extended the hand that held the music box. ‘The desk downstairs had some superglue. It’s not exactly like it was before, but it was the best I could do.’

‘Maggie . . . I know I said some terrible things and I can’t take them back. But we’ve got twenty-seven years of friendship.’ She swallowed hard. ‘We’ve seen each other through a lot, good times and bad. And we . . . we raised an amazing woman together, Maggie. You and I. And she does still need you. She’s going to need both of us because this nightmare is far from over for her. Please stay, for just a little longer.’

Maggie hesitated. ‘I don’t know.’

Simone took a few tentative steps toward her. ‘You gave my daughter back her voice and for that I owe you a debt of gratitude. But you gave
me
friendship when I was all alone.’ Sadly she took the music box from Maggie’s hand. ‘Daphne gave this to me for Mother’s Day, the first one after Michael left us. You’d taken her to one of those pottery places where she got to paint it, and they glazed and fired it.’

‘I remember.’

‘It plays “Edelweiss”.’

‘From the movie.
The Sound of Music
.’ Maggie glanced at Joseph. ‘Her favorite.’

Simone shook her head. ‘She doesn’t love the song because of the movie. She loves the movie because of the song. Her father used to sing it to us, on the front porch at night when it was time for her to go to sleep. It was her lullaby.’

‘I never knew that,’ Maggie said quietly.

‘I know. It hurt too much to say out loud. The day she gave it to me, it was hard to not break down in tears, right in front of her. She looked so hopeful that I’d like it, then so disappointed when I didn’t. But I couldn’t play it, not for weeks after. One day I came into my bedroom to find her sitting on my bed, the music box to her ear. She shut it off quickly, like she knew it hurt me.’ Simone sighed. ‘And she spoke her first words in eight months. “It wasn’t Daddy.” Then she ran to the barn. I had no idea that she blamed herself for Michael’s leaving because I was too busy blaming myself.’

Maggie’s eyes filled. ‘Oh, Simone.’

‘After that I made it a point to play it every night. Because I wanted her to know I didn’t blame her. That I was all right. Now I can’t go to sleep without it.’

‘It still plays,’ Maggie said hoarsely. ‘The box is cracked, but it plays.’

‘Last night I thought it was a goner.’ Simone wound it up, smiling sadly as the tune tinkled out. ‘Amazing what a little superglue can do.’ She met Maggie’s eyes. ‘I know I said some terrible things to you and although I would do anything to take them back, you can’t unring a bell. I just hope I haven’t broken us beyond repair.’

Maggie shook her head. ‘No. You haven’t.’

Joseph found his eyes stinging as Maggie dropped her suitcase and the two women embraced. And then his eyes focused on the music box. The broken pieces had been lined up precisely, the cracks barely visible.

Amazing what a little superglue can do
. He frowned, then went still.
Superglue
.

‘
Oh my God,’ he breathed. He laughed aloud. ‘Oh fucking hell.’

The women turned to stare at him, faces puzzled and mildly disapproving, but he barely noticed. He had his phone out, dialing Dr Brodie. ‘Come on, wake up.’

‘Joseph?’ Brodie sounded sleepy. ‘Meeting’s not till seven, right?’

‘Right, but this can’t wait.’ His heart was racing. ‘We need to get your techs back to that drugstore. The one that tried to card Doug.’

‘We tried to get the surveillance video, Joseph. I told you they’d taped over it.’

‘Did you get the superglue?’

‘What?’ There was a long pause. ‘No. We didn’t. We should have, but we didn’t.’

‘He wasn’t selling weapons to the Millhouses. He was just being a normal guy, buying school supplies for his brother. Maybe his guard was down. He could have left a print on the package.’

‘I’ll get right on it. It’s a twenty-four-hour store. I’ll get a uniform out there to watch the shelf until my techs can get there. It’s a long shot, but worth a try. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.’

Hanging up, Joseph smacked a kiss on Simone’s cheek, then Maggie’s. ‘Wish me luck.’ He left them staring, and was still grinning when he got outside with Tasha, despite the fact it was snowing again and he’d left his coat in the hotel room. His cell rang and he answered it with near euphoria. ‘This is Agent Carter.’

‘Joseph, it’s Bo.’

‘Did Brodie call you already?’

‘About what?’

Joseph told him about the superglue, fighting the urge to dance.

‘That’s great,’ Bo said, but he didn’t sound enthused.

‘What’s wrong? How did the raid on Antonov’s warehouse go?’

‘Not well. It was empty when we got there. They’d just moved hundred of crates. Bomb dogs found traces of ammunition, but no actual evidence.’

‘Damn. I’m sorry, Bo.’

‘Me too. Antonov has been on ATF radar for months. Stopping him would have kept Russian organized crime from getting a toehold in the area, but now we’re back to square one. But that’s not why I called.’

‘Then why?’ Joseph’s mind clicked. ‘Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I haven’t had coffee yet. I sent you an email last night, asking for Agent Claudia Baker’s info. You got anything?’

‘Yeah. She doesn’t exist. She never did. The Bureau has no record of a Special Agent Claudia Baker, in the DC field office or anywhere else.’

‘Shit,’ Joseph snarled. ‘I was afraid of that.’

‘Are you sure Daphne wasn’t mistaken?’

‘As sure as I can be considering I wasn’t actually at their meeting twenty years ago. Did you check married and maiden names?’

‘I checked everything. I’ve been working it for hours. We need to talk to Daphne, because assuming she really did talk to someone, it wasn’t an FBI agent.’

Assuming?
‘She’s not lying, Bo. Somebody lied to her.’

‘And you weren’t there twenty years ago, Joseph. Playing devil’s advocate, it wouldn’t look good for her to have kept that information secret all these years. She’s a prosecutor now. She might have found herself grasping for an out.’

Joseph’s temper rattled its chains. ‘I’ll talk to her. Find out exactly how and where she met this alleged agent. I’ll have her sit with a sketch artist if necessary. Because whoever was pretending to be Claudia Baker stopped her from reporting a murder.’

‘Why would anyone want to do that?’

‘I don’t know. I do know she was living with the Elkharts at the time. If they found out her plans, they might have feared she was going to cause a scandal. Most rich families don’t like scandal, especially if they have political aspirations. Travis Elkhart is a judge – that wouldn’t have looked good for him.’

‘He wasn’t a judge then.’

‘Maybe he already wanted to be. I don’t know. I can stand here speculating all day long but it won’t get us any closer to the truth, plus I’m standing outside freezing my ass off. We’re having a status meeting at seven. Should I patch you in?’

‘Yes. I’d like to hear Daphne’s story for myself. Be careful, Joseph. You might think you know this woman, but remember you weren’t there. You can’t know.’

‘I’ll talk to you at seven,’ Joseph said, grimly re-entering the hotel. He took the stairs, needing the mild burn of a seven-flight run to cool his temper and figuring it’d be a good work-out for the dog as well.

When he came out of the stairwell into the hall the first thing he heard was a bloodcurdling scream coming from down the hall.
Daphne
.

Joseph started to run, passing a few hotel guests who’d opened their doors to investigate. Another, louder scream met his ears as he reached Daphne’s room. It was coming from inside.
Oh, God
.
I shouldn’t have left her alone
.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Wheeling, West Virginia, Thursday, December 5, 6.30
A.M.

T
he screaming woke her. Daphne’s eyes flew open and she sat up in bed, breathing hard. Her throat was raw.

That was new. Her throat had never been raw before. She lifted her hand to her throat, trying to control her breathing. The bed was empty. Joseph was gone.

And then the door flew open and there he was, weapon drawn, shouting her name, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek.

Joseph ran through both rooms, checking every closet, the shower. Under her bed. Through it all she sat motionless in the bed, the blankets tangled around her legs.

‘Joseph? Everything okay in there?’ Deacon Novak’s voice spurred her into action and she jerked the covers up to her chin.

Joseph sprang up from checking under the bed, poised on the balls of his feet. Slowly he turned and stared at her. ‘What happened?’ he panted.

‘I don’t know.’ She coughed, her throat dry as dust. ‘Should I assume that I screamed out loud this time?’

‘Did you ever.’ Deacon stood in the doorway looking rattled, his white hair askew, like he’d been sleeping. ‘If everything’s okay, I’ll get out of here until seven.’

‘We’re all right,’ Joseph said. ‘Thanks.’

‘Wait,’ Daphne said. ‘If you’re here, Agent Novak, who’s with Ford?’

‘Hector. We switched places so that I could sleep. Which I’ll get back to.’

Joseph sank to the bed when Deacon had gone. ‘Oh my God,’ he said, still panting. ‘You scared the fuck out of me.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She closed her eyes, mortification setting in. ‘I didn’t mean to. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.’

Joseph lightly grasped her chin. ‘Bad dream? Open your eyes, honey.’

She obeyed, finding his expression both fierce and gentle at once. ‘I think so. It wasn’t the same one. I was at Beckett’s, but as I am now. Older. I was always a little girl before, but this time I was me. A shrink would have a field day with this.’

‘Don’t worry. Talk to me. You were at Beckett’s. What happened?’

‘The gas man came in his truck and I climbed inside, but I was too big and he and Beckett caught me. And then they were . . . monsters. Like you can’t see them, but you know they’re bad?’

‘I’ve had those dreams too. What did they do?’

‘Chased me through the woods. I was just running through the woods.’ She eased from the bed, testing the stability of her legs. When she didn’t fall down, she started for the bathroom. ‘What did Deacon mean about coming back at seven?’

‘I have a status meeting scheduled on my side. I was going to let you sleep.’

She paused at the bathroom door, not yet ready to face him. The terror was too fresh and she needed to be by herself for a little while. To regroup. Settle down. Get control. ‘What time is it now?’

‘Twenty-five till.’

‘Let me wash up. I’d like to sit in, if it’s okay.’

‘Sure.’

She chanced a look over her shoulder, found him still sitting on the bed, frowning to himself. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Just . . . unsettled. Go, get ready.’ His mouth curved. ‘I love the view, but I don’t think that’s what you want to show to the others.’

She cheeks heated. She wore only her pajama top. ‘No. Can you order me some room service for breakfast? I don’t think I’ve eaten since lunch yesterday. Thanks.’

She closed the door, sagged against it. Her legs were like jelly and she had to lean against the shower wall to wash her hair.
Run
.
Run
.
Through the cabin, out the door
.

Sighing through clenched teeth, she shoved the damn dream aside as she toweled off and went through her morning routine mechanically. Brush the teeth, comb the hair.

Run
.
Run
.
Climb in the truck
.
Hide under the tarp
.
Get away
.

She paused as she blended her makeup, frowning at her reflection. Jerking her mind back to the here and now. ‘Stop it,’ she muttered. ‘You’ll make yourself crazy.’

Bronzer. Blush.
If I find her I’ll bring her back to you
.

Mascara.
He sees me
.
The gas man sees me
.
Hide
.
Make yourself invisible
.

She froze, her eyes wide as she stared at herself, mascara wand halfway through its stroke. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘He was there.’

She burst through the bathroom door, much as Joseph had burst in earlier. She found him sitting in the same position on the bed, a grim expression on his face.

‘Joseph, he knew. The gas man knew.’

Joseph’s gaze shot over to meet hers. ‘What?’

‘The gas man knew where Beckett’s cabin was. What if we could find him? Track him down? We could find the cabin. Find Beckett. Save Heather?’ She ended the last on a note of question because he’d come to his feet, his gaze burningly intense.

She looked down at herself and felt her heart sink. Naked. She was stark naked. Everywhere. Reflex had her folding her arms over her breasts, but he was crossing the room, purpose in every step. Carefully he closed his hands over her wrists, tugging until she let go of the iron hold she had on herself.

He held her arms out, his eyes fixed on her body, a flush rising up his unshaven cheeks. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as he looked his fill.

Finally he glanced up. Met her eyes and she saw . . . greed. Reverence. Want.

‘Promise me,’ he rasped. Cleared his throat and started again. ‘Promise me that you won’t hide from me anymore. Because I like what I see. Very, very much.’ His voice had dipped low, like a caress, and she shivered. ‘Promise me.’

She swallowed, unable to look away from his face. Unembarrassed now, despite the fact that he was fully clothed while she wore not a stitch. ‘All right.’

He stepped closer, pressing his lips to the side of her neck while guiding one of her hands to his trousers. He was fully erect and very ready. ‘Do you have any doubt that I’m telling you the truth?’ He undulated against her hand, and she shivered again.

‘No. I think you’ve proved your case very well.’

He kissed his way from her neck to her shoulder. ‘If I didn’t have a meeting in five minutes, I’d have you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around my waist and I’d be inside you, making you moan.’

She moaned anyway, making him smile as he pulled away, leaving her trembling. ‘You’re beautiful, Daphne.’

‘So are you.’

There was a knock on the door of his room and he cursed softly. ‘Damn early birds.’ He kissed the tip of her nose and took a giant step back. ‘Come next door when you’re ready.’

The knock was repeated, harder this time, and Joseph shook his head hard.

‘Damn. How am I going to concentrate?’ He leaned toward the open adjoining door. ‘I’m coming. Keep your pants on.’ He winked at her. ‘That goes double for you until later.’ Adjusting himself, he walked stiffly, muttering under his breath.

Daphne blinked, disoriented. Then she remembered why she’d burst out of the bathroom stark naked. ‘Joseph, wait.’

He looked over his shoulder, brows furrowed. ‘Don’t tease me, please.’

‘I’m not. Joseph, listen. The gas man knew where Beckett’s cabin was. He went there every quarter to fill the tank. What if we could find him?’

He blinked. ‘Could we, after all this time?’

‘I don’t know, but it’s better than what we’ve got so far.’

He nodded once. ‘Get dressed and meet me on my side. We’ll figure it out.’

When the door closed behind him, Daphne exhaled slowly.
Whoa
. Her body felt tight, needy. Greedy. But she had priorities. Find the cabin. Find Heather.
Find and punish Beckett and Doug, whoever the hell he is
.

And then . . . A delicious shiver ran down her back, making her skin tingle. She went back into the bathroom and studied her reflection. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy. All shadows from the nightmare were gone.

‘I think you just found a cure for panic attacks, sugar,’ she murmured to herself, smiling at the notion.

Now she was late, though, and needed to hurry with her makeup and clothes. Rather than pick through the makeup bag Maggie had included when she’d packed her overnight suitcase, Daphne dumped its contents on the bathroom countertop, creating a small mountain of lipstics, eyeliners, and compacts of blush.

Then she froze, staring. An antique silver compact sat on top of the pile. The compact had been at the bottom of her makeup drawer in her bathroom at the farm. In Maggie’s haste to get her packed and on the road to Ford, she’d scooped the contents of the entire drawer into the bag.

Daphne had almost forgotten she’d left the compact there. She always almost forgot – until she needed it again. Or more accurately, until she needed what was inside.

Had she had the Beckett nightmare while sleeping at the farm, this compact would have been the first thing she would have reached for. She opened the compact now, revealing the folded paper tucked within.

Carefully she unfolded it. The letterhead read
West Virginia State Department of Health
. Her voice was but a whisper as she read the first line aloud. ‘Name of the deceased: Wilson William Beckett.’

The original document she’d received from Claudia Baker was in her safety-deposit box, but she’d hidden a copy wherever she slept – in a wig box in the closet of her bedroom at home, in a box of tampons in the drawer of her nightstand at the condo, where Ford would never look, and in this compact in the bathroom drawer at the farm. And when the nightmares were bad, she’d pull out the copy as tangible proof that Beckett really was dead. That he could no longer hurt her.

But it was a lie. He
wasn’t
dead and he
could
hurt her. He’d tried to kill Ford.

She refolded the paper, put it back in the compact, and dropped the compact in her purse.
Get dressed and get the certificate to Joseph
.

Thursday, December 5, 6.58
A.M.

Joseph firmly closed the adjoining door and adjusted himself again. Looking down, he cursed. The bulge against his zipper was obvious.

The early bird knocked a third time. ‘Joseph? You okay?’ Deacon called.

‘I am fine,’ he ground out, grabbing a sweatshirt from the gym bag he’d left on the table. Holding it in front of him as nonchalantly as possible he opened the door to Deacon, who held a box of doughnuts in one hand, his laptop in the other. ‘You’re early.’

‘Good morning to you, too.’ Deacon tossed the doughnuts on the table. ‘Last time I bring you breakfast. How’s Daphne?’

Delectable
. Joseph had to fight a shudder. The image of himself dropping to his knees and burying his tongue inside her taunted him and he drew a hard breath.

‘She had a bad dream about Beckett.’ Joseph busied himself making a pot of coffee, giving himself a moment to regain his composure. ‘But she’ll be okay. Did you see Kate this morning?’

‘She left with Simone and Maggie just before the screaming started. Something about a quest for chocolate chip pancakes. Heavy on the chocolate. I’ll brief her later.’

‘We should have McManus and Kerr here soon.’ Joseph looked over, saw Deacon reading the newspaper. ‘Any of our news make the front page?’

‘Nope. Not yet. I expect that’ll change, though.’

‘Especially when the reporters get wind of Beckett.’ Joseph groaned quietly. ‘Shit. I forgot to tell her.’

‘Tell who what?’

‘Tell Daphne that Beckett doesn’t have a death certificate in the system and that the FBI agent she talked to doesn’t exist.’

‘Shit. That mucks things up.’

‘Exactly. I’d like not to blindside her with that in front of the others.’ Joseph checked his watch. McManus and Kerr were a little late. ‘Can you call Grayson, Bo, and Brodie? I need to talk to her before the locals get here.’

‘Sure.’

‘And start wrapping your mind around this one – when she calmed down after that scream, she remembered that the gas man who unwittingly helped her escape knew where the cabin was. It was on his route.’

Deacon’s eyes widened. ‘Holy hell. It’s been thirty years. Hopefully the same gas companies are still around.’

‘Got a better idea?’

‘Nope.’

‘All right then.’ Joseph went back into the hall and knocked on Daphne’s door. Now that the locals were due, he didn’t want to compromise anything by having them see him moving freely between their rooms.

She opened the door, fully clothed in jeans and a sweater, munching on a slice of toast. ‘I was leaving to come to your room when my breakfast arrived. You ordered me enough food for an army. You want some of it?’

‘No thanks.’ He followed her into her room, giving her a cautious look. ‘I need to tell you something.’

Her hackles rose as she closed the door. ‘What happened?’

He let out a breath. ‘There’s no death certificate for Beckett in the system.’

‘That’s impossible.’ She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. ‘I have a copy. With a seal and everything.’

‘Well, since he’s not really dead, that the certificate was a fake isn’t that big of a stretch. That isn’t the big thing. There never has been a Claudia Baker with the FBI.’

She froze, then swallowed the toast with a gulp. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Somebody lied to you. Set you up to think you were giving a statement. There’s no record of a Claudia Baker in the Bureau, in the DC office or anywhere else.’

She sank onto the sofa, stunned. ‘That means . . . what does that mean, Joseph?’

‘I don’t know yet. But Bo wants answers. He might be less . . . friendly than before.’

Her eyes widened. ‘He thinks I’m lying?’

‘He doesn’t know for sure,’ Joseph hedged. ‘He wants to talk to you himself.’

She looked up sharply, studying his face. ‘Does he think you’re covering for me?’ Joseph hesitated. Shrugged. ‘He doesn’t know for sure,’ he said again. ‘Do you need a minute to regroup?’

‘No.’ Her expression had grown hard. ‘Let’s do this.’