Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

by Karen Rose

  He paused. ‘And I came to a conclusion. Do you want to know what I think?’

  Millhouse spat at him, the gob of phlegm hitting the edge of Joseph’s shoe.

  That’s just nasty. But Joseph didn’t flinch. ‘I’ll take that as a no,’ he said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. Taking care to stay out of Millhouse’s reach, he cleaned his shoe and tossed the dirty hankie on the table.

  ‘That’s okay. I’d planned to tell you all along. See, I think you anticipated they might fail inside the courtroom. I think a smart guy like you always has a Plan B. When I first walked in here, I thought Plan B was to create chaos outside the justice center, just like your family was supposed to do inside, but on a much bigger scale. I thought you had a team, like helper bees. I thought they’d all buzzed away when they saw that you’d been taken down by Detective Fitzpatrick and that your plan had disintegrated into one little girl shooting people in the front row. But now I think Plan B was simply to kill Daphne Montgomery for the pain she’d caused your family. Payback for Reggie’s unfortunate incarceration. Of course, Marina also failed to do that. How’m I doing?’

  ‘Go to hell,’ Millhouse growled.

  Joseph ignored him. ‘I think you circled around like you did because you were planning to swoop in and grab Marina once she’d shot Montgomery. I think Marina took things into her own hands when you didn’t show up like you had planned.’

  Millhouse’s expression changed. Softened.

  Pride, Joseph thought. Affection? Tenderness? Love?

  ‘There is one piece I don’t get. What was the purpose behind the abduction of Daphne Montgomery’s son?’

  Millhouse lifted his head to stare at Joseph, his eyes narrowed. Then without a word Millhouse lay back down and Joseph got the feeling one of them had missed something.

  Joseph sat quietly for a minute, waiting. Finally Millhouse raised his head again, stared briefly, and then resumed his position on the floor, brows bent.

  Millhouse doesn’t know about Ford. Joseph’s mind raced, trying to build a theory inside this scenario. If Millhouse didn’t do it, who did? And why?

  As his mind raced, it came back to the ten rifles in Bill’s trunk. There had to be helper bees. Had to be followers. What if the followers saw the crazy futility of Bill’s plan?

  What if they’d enacted their own plan? A pre-emptive counter-attack as it were.

  And even if they hadn’t, what if he could make Bill believe they had? His goal was to lead the conversation, little as it had been, to Ford. What if one of the followers took Ford? Why, Joseph had no idea. Maybe Bill would know.

  ‘I’ve always thought,’ Joseph said slowly, ‘that the hardest thing for a leader is to receive a no confidence vote. For a politician, it means a fade into obscurity. No more office, no power. No statue on Main Street. But for a military leader like yourself, it’s anarchy. Not to have had your troops rallying behind you at the courthouse has got to be hard to swallow. But to have them doubt your success so much – in advance – that they create their own Plan B? Second-guessing you even before you had the chance to prove yourself? Humiliating. And infuriating. I’d be totally pissed off if I were you.’

  ‘You’re not me,’ Millhouse gritted.

  ‘True. I’m sitting in a chair wearing Armani. You’re on the floor, wearing an ugly orange jumpsuit. You’re facing a long stay at Hotel Don’t-Bend-Over and I’ll go home to a soft, warm bed. I’m glad I’m not you for those reasons alone. But the biggest difference between us is that my people believe in me and yours don’t.’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Millhouse muttered.

  ‘You really don’t, do you? And it’s driving you crazy because you want to know. But you don’t want to ask me.’ Joseph’s phone buzzed three times in quick succession. He checked and found texts from Grayson, Daphne, and Hector Rivera, all sent within seconds of each other, all telling to him to halt his interview as there was new information. ‘I’ll see you later, Bill. Should I give your regards to Cindy and George?’

  He didn’t have to look to know Bill’s teeth were grinding. He could hear them. He told the cops to return Bill to his seat, then left to find out what had just happened.

  Tuesday, December 3, 4.10 P.M.

  Alyssa had been blessedly silent as she drove them back to the office, leaving Clay to lick his wounds in peace. From the passenger seat, he stared at the sky, worrying. More snow was on the way. Ford’s out there. Somewhere.

  Clay had never been a hard-assed boss, demanding paperwork for paperwork’s sake. He’d always had good people who pulled their weight. Except for Nicki. And now Tuzak. I need to either get out of this business or become a cross-your-t’s paper pusher.

  Neither sounded like a good choice. God. What if Ford dies, too? How will Daphne survive that? How will I?

  Behind him, Alec Vaughn made an impatient noise. ‘The smell of those cinnamon buns is making me crazy. If nobody else wants any, pass the basket to me.’

  Clay handed it to him over the back seat. It had been very Daphne-like to insist they took food, even through her fury. Which she had every right to. Still . . . it hurt. In the past nine months they’d become friends. She knew things about him that he’d never told another living soul. She’ll never forgive me. If she does, she’ll never trust me again.

  ‘Um, Clay?’ Alec said, his mouth full.

  Clay didn’t turn around. ‘What?’

  ‘These cinnamon buns are a Trojan horse.’

  Clay twisted in his seat to stare at his newest staff member. Deaf from toddlerhood, Alec wore a cochlear implant and, after years of therapy, could speak clearly. But there were times Clay still had trouble understanding what he’d said. Like now. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘These cinnamon buns are a Trojan horse,’ Alec repeated more slowly.

  ‘What do you mean they’re a Trojan horse?’

  Alec dug his hand under the checkered napkin and brought out an envelope. ‘Weighs a ton. Which means all this weight isn’t cinnabun-ly goodness after all.’

  He handed the envelope to Clay who slid the contents to his lap. On top was a smaller, sealed envelope, addressed to him in Daphne’s perfect penmanship. He opened it, not sure what he’d read.

  ‘Dear Clay, as a dad yourself, I know you have some sense for what I’m going through. I pray you never have to feel what I’m feeling. This is the worst hell I’ve ever endured. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. It doesn’t change that it has and we’re both going to have to live with it, no matter how things turn out. Please know that I still need your help and value your expertise. I’ve enclosed my file for the Millhouse case. I hope inside is something you can use to help me find my son. I count you ever my friend. Yours, Daphne.’

  I count you ever my friend. It was far more than he deserved and in her place, far more than he would have given. Clay folded the note and slipped it in his pocket.

  ‘Alyssa, I need you to drop me off at the university. The two of you go back to the office and start going over these papers. I’ll take a cab back to the crime scene when I’m done to pick up my car.’

  ‘What’s in those papers?’ Alec asked.

  ‘Daphne’s file on the Millhouses. She told me at one point they were checking all their financials. I want to know how they paid the guy last night. It probably won’t be in this file because these financials were taken weeks ago, but you can get bank account numbers. Do whatever you need to do to see their bank transactions.’

  ‘So we look for a money trail,’ Alyssa said. ‘What do we do when we find it?’

  ‘Send it to me. I’ll get it to Carter in a way that doesn’t implicate either one of you.’ Clay tilted his hips, fishing deep in the pocket of his jeans and drawing out a handful of the AFID tags from the crime scene. ‘Also, I need to find out where these came from.’

  Alyssa glanced over with a frown. ‘What are they?’

  ‘AFID tags,’ Alec said, impressing Clay that he knew. ‘C
ame from a taser. Give them to me. I’ll trace them for you.’

  ‘Thanks, kid.’ Clay’s phone buzzed. It was Paige. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey yourself. How did you find those cinnamon rolls? Tasty?’

  ‘Yeah. Tell Daphne thank you.’

  ‘You bet. Not the reason I’m calling though. Grayson just let us know that Stevie’s out of surgery. They’ve got her in ICU until she’s stabilized, but the doctor told her folks that the surgery went well.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Clay breathed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘The surgeon also told them that whoever administered first aid on the scene probably saved her life. Her parents want to meet you.’

  Clay’s head was still spinning from the relief. ‘Not sure Stevie would want that.’

  ‘I don’t think they were asking Stevie,’ Paige said softly. ‘I’ve met them, Clay. They’re really nice people. They want to thank the man who saved their daughter’s life.’

  ‘You’d go?’

  ‘Considering how long you’ve mooned over Stevie unrequitedly? Hell yes. You and Joseph, I swear to God. Peas in a damn pod. Now I gotta go. I’m conferencing with brother Joseph in . . . crap, two minutes ago. I’m late. Bye. And good luck.’

  She hung up, leaving Clay to stare at his phone. Until he was thrown into the door when Alyssa cut through three lanes of traffic to get to the exit. ‘What the hell?’

  ‘Hospital exit,’ Alyssa said. ‘I assumed that’s where you’d want to go first.’

  He frowned at her. ‘You could hear Paige’s end of the call?’

  ‘No. You said “Thank you” like a prayer and didn’t immediately tell us Ford was found. The mention of Stevie was also a clue. Plus you’re blushing. It’s cute.’

  ‘I’m not blushing,’ Clay growled. Except his face felt like it was on fire so he probably was.

  ‘You used to blush like that when I’d catch you kissing Lou,’ Alyssa said teasingly. ‘My sister,’ she added as an aside to Alec. ‘She and Clay were engaged for a while.’

  ‘Hey, wait,’ Alec said. ‘You mean Sheriff Lou Moore, out at Wight’s Landing?’

  ‘Yeah. You know my sister?’

  ‘I met her once,’ Alec said. ‘I haven’t seen her since . . . well, that summer.’

  The summer six years ago when Alec had been kidnapped. Shit. ‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Clay confessed. ‘Crazy, considering I’m the one who found you.’ Twelve years old, tied, gagged, drugged out of his mind, Alec had been shoved under a bed in a dirty hotel room by an evil, deranged woman. ‘I just don’t think of you as that little kidnapped kid anymore.’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Alec said. ‘I don’t think of myself that way either.’

  ‘Are you okay with all this? No PTSD or anything?’

  ‘If you’re asking if I’m going to fall apart, then no.’ Alec’s eyes shifted and Clay could see the withdrawn kid he’d been back then. ‘Is this easy for me? No. When I saw Daphne I thought about how scared my mom must have been. But I was lucky. The bitch who took me had a “grand plan” so she didn’t hurt me. Just drugged me so I wouldn’t cause trouble. I hope the Millhouses have a grand plan for Ford. It’ll give us time to find him. If not . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It’ll be hard. On everybody.’

  ‘Then let’s hope for a grand plan,’ Clay said grimly.

  Alyssa pulled into the hospital parking lot. ‘Be careful. Call if you need us.’

  ‘I will.’ Clay stood in front of the hospital doors for a full minute trying to bring himself to go inside. He’d tried to start a relationship with Stevie several times. But, still grieving for her husband and son, she’d never been ready. Maybe nearly dying will show her how precious time really is.

  Or not. Either way, he would meet her parents and smile and pretend like he wasn’t as lovesick as a damn dog over their daughter.

  Chapter Nine

  Tuesday, December 3, 4.15 P.M.

  Joseph had left Bill Millhouse to cool his heels in Interview to join Bo and Grayson for a conference call with Daphne, Paige, and Rivera.

  It had been Daphne’s meeting, from the first moment. She’d opened with a quietly dignified, ‘Nobody here has more to lose than I do. But nobody knows the Millhouses better than I do. Let me help you find my son.’

  What had followed was her incredibly complete assessment of the Millhouses, their associates most likely to be trusted with both Ford and the baby, and the properties where they might be held.

  God, she was smart. Even if she didn’t have legs to her shoulders, he would have found her brain sexy as hell.

  ‘So if I can summarize,’ he said. ‘George is the weak link. Reggie would be the heir apparent were he not in prison. Bill is making tons of money, misrepresenting himself to hundreds of thousands of followers as a “patriot” who just wants to protect the ordinary guy when in reality he’s tried to raise a small militia.’

  ‘It’s the money that interested us,’ Daphne said. ‘And what he was doing with it.’

  Joseph searched his memory. ‘In one of his talk-show interviews he said it would go toward Reggie’s defense fund.’

  ‘You know, it’s a funny thing about lawyers,’ Daphne said wryly. ‘We can’t talk about anything regarding a case, but spouses don’t take any such vow. The wife of a defense attorney who hasn’t been paid can be quite talkative. Especially when she now has an ER bill to cover because the client broke her husband’s arm.’

  ‘And his ankle,’ Paige added. ‘In three places. Ellis is going to have to have surgery to get his ankle pinned because Reggie tossed the table on him this morning.’

  ‘Ellis hasn’t been paid by the Millhouses?’ Grayson asked.

  ‘No,’ Daphne answered. ‘Only about a third of what he’s billed out.’

  ‘How do you know this?’ Grayson asked, brows lowered.

  ‘Because I asked,’ Paige said evenly, ‘when Ellis’s wife, Shannon, called me to ask if I had any places open in my next self-defense class.’

  Grayson sat back, surprised. ‘She called you?’

  ‘She called my school. I have it set up to forward to my cell phone.’

  ‘Shannon Ellis was in the courtroom today,’ Daphne said. ‘She saw Cindy attack me, saw me block her – right before one of the Millhouse cousins hit her hard enough so that she had to be taken to the hospital.’

  ‘I’m missing something,’ Bo said. ‘Why did Ellis’s wife come to you, Paige? How did she know you, much less that you gave Daphne self-defense lessons?’

  ‘We can thank that reporter Phin Radcliffe for that,’ Paige said. ‘Shannon said she saw one of his TV news reports on my school. He’s given our center a lot of good press. Which was the least he could do after making me an Internet sensation,’ she added grumpily, then her voice brightened. ‘Kind of like you are now, Joseph.’

  It wasn’t the same thing at all, Joseph thought. Paige had been filmed while attempting to save the victim of a shooting, the video instantly uploaded to the Internet and shown on every news network in the country. Okay, I guess it’s completely the same thing. Of course it marked the beginning of Paige and Grayson’s relationship and now they were engaged. So maybe being an Internet sensation bodes well.

  ‘Back to Shannon Ellis . . .’ Joseph said.

  ‘Shannon was scared,’ Daphne said. ‘She’s the wife of the guy who represented the monster who’d just stabbed a deputy while trying to escape. The monster whose girlfriend killed a cop, then injured a detective and a civilian. Shannon sat in the ER for two hours, and while her medical needs were met quickly, not one cop came to take her statement. They took everyone else’s, but not hers.’

  ‘So she came to us,’ Paige said. ‘She’s got three children and she is terrified the Millhouses will blame Ellis for losing the case and want revenge. I think she figured that any information she gave to me would be passed to Daphne, who’d square things for her with the cops. Then the police would actually come if the Millhouses made trouble and she had to call 911 in the n
ight.’

  ‘She shouldn’t have to worry about that,’ Bo said with a frown.

  ‘You’re right,’ Paige said. ‘But cops will blame the Millhouses and anyone that helped them. Defense attorneys are up there on the cops’ shit list.’

  ‘Shannon didn’t want her husband to take Reggie’s case,’ Daphne said. ‘She begged him not to. But they needed the money.’

  ‘We’re back to the money,’ Joseph said. ‘If Bill never paid Reggie’s attorney, what has he done with the money people donated for Reggie’s defense?’

  ‘That’s what we wanted to know,’ Daphne said. ‘I knew Bill filed a certificate of incorporation for a new non-profit organization four months ago. That’s where all the donations are going. This is the good part. Richard Odum, one of the non-profit’s board of directors, recently bought several bank-owned homes that had been foreclosed on. But in his own name, not in the name of the non-profit.’

  ‘Odum has his own plumbing business,’ Paige elaborated. ‘He’s not poor, but he shouldn’t be able to afford three investment properties. We sent you the addresses of the houses and the board of directors list.’

  Joseph looked at Grayson. ‘Can we get warrants for the houses Odum bought?’

  ‘Eventually. But not just for being on Millhouse’s board and buying property. I’d have to show that he didn’t have the personal funds to buy the property and that would require a warrant into his bank records. I could get you one in five minutes if you can get one of the Millhouses to confirm he’s taking non-profit funds.’

  Which was what Joseph had expected him to say. He sat back, thinking. ‘This Richard Odum . . . has he been giving interviews today?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daphne said. ‘Hector and I checked while Paige was talking to Shannon Ellis. There’s a lot of money at stake here, and now, with all the Millhouses being in prison, a power vacuum. Conditions are ripe for a coup. Anybody who knows enough to take control may also know where Bill Millhouse is hiding Ford.’