Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

by Karen Rose

  Joseph went still inside. ‘Had you seen him before?’

  ‘Yes, twice before today.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘I have to tell you because you look interested in this guy, but . . . well, I’m not a pervert or a stalker.’

  Joseph blinked. ‘Why would I think that?’

  ‘I teach Life Science and birds are my passion. I have binoculars for bird watching.’ She looked at her neighbors. ‘I’ve never used them to look in your houses.’

  Joseph felt a sizzle of energy prickle his skin. ‘But you used them on this house?’

  ‘Yes. I wanted to know what was going on in there. My nieces and nephews come to visit me here,’ she said defensively. ‘I didn’t want drug dealers across the street. And what if they were making meth? They’d blow us all sky high.’

  ‘Understandable concern. So what did you see?’

  ‘Mr Odum and two other men in the basement. They were walking around, pointing at the walls. The next day the window was covered with black paper. I only saw them together that once.’

  ‘Who were the two men with Odum?’

  ‘One was the Millhouse father, Bill. The man I saw that one time was shorter. Top of his head came up to the father’s shoulder. So maybe five-nine? Brown hair, cut short. He was pretty ordinary looking, to be honest. If I hadn’t seen him in Odum’s basement, I never would have given him a second look the second time I saw him.’

  ‘Second time? When was this?’

  ‘Two weeks ago. I stock shelves at my cousin’s drugstore at night on weekends.’ She shrugged. ‘Teacher pay cuts. Anyway, the ordinary guy came in. First I thought he’d come for me, because I’d been peeking in the window, but he ignored me. Went straight to the school supply aisle and picked up two packs of superglue.’

  Joseph frowned. ‘Superglue? Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive. I waited till he got to checkout and watched from the fem-hygiene aisle. Men never go in that aisle. My cousin was working the register and she asked to see his ID. They card for superglue because teens huff it.’

  Joseph stood straighter. ‘Would your cousin remember his name?’

  ‘No, because he wouldn’t give her his ID. At first he was incredulous. He said, “I’m twenty-nine years old. Why are you carding me?” My cousin told him that she’d have to card him if he was seventy, that it was store policy. He opened his wallet like he was going for his ID, then said he didn’t have it. Made a big deal of how stunned he was to see it missing. He tried to wheedle my cousin, told her the glue was for his kid brother’s science project, that they were making model rockets. He had to have it the next day and couldn’t he come back with his ID? Carol was firm because she can get in trouble, especially if he’s undercover, looking for carding violations.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘Left all angry. I wish we’d gotten his name.’

  Joseph felt like kissing her. He’d been helped by busybody neighbors before, but never by one who was so well organized about it. ‘You did very well. Thank you. Would you mind sitting with a police artist? You’ve seen his face.’

  ‘Of course, but I might be able to do one better. Carol has surveillance cameras in the store. Hopefully she still has the tape. Let me go get her information.’

  She’d turned to go when a blast rattled the windows in the Odum house.

  ‘Get down! Everybody down!’ Joseph made sure everyone was okay, then ran back to the house. Ford could be inside. The baby definitely was.

  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Tuesday, December 3, 6.50 P.M.

  ‘Did you decide where to go first?’ Alec asked. ‘The MacGregors’ or Trooper Gargano’s house to ask about the stolen tasers? Because we’re almost there.’

  When Alec called with the results of the traced AFID tags he’d offered the use of his car to get to Philly – but only if he drove. ‘You’re rattled,’ the kid had said and Clay knew he was right.

  I’m not objective anymore. Having the kid around for perspective might be wise.

  Clay scrubbed his palms over his cheeks as he contemplated his choices – Gargano, the trooper who’d been stolen from, or the MacGregors, whose daughter had set Ford up. ‘I need a shave before I go anywhere.’

  ‘A shower wouldn’t hurt either,’ Alec commented. ‘And a change of clothes. If you get stopped by a cop, you’ll be answering questions about the blood on your pants.’

  His pants were black, so the patches of Stevie’s dried blood didn’t show that much. ‘I’m less worried about that than the fact that I’m still wearing JD’s T-shirt.’ With BPD in huge letters. ‘Never a good idea to talk to a cop when you’re impersonating one.’

  ‘Turn the shirt inside out. If you keep your jacket on, nobody’ll see the seams.’

  ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Clay muttered.

  ‘Works like a charm for me. Especially the day before laundry day.’

  Clay shot the kid a disgusted look. ‘You’re so lazy that you’d walk around with your shirt inside out rather than do a load of laundry?’

  ‘Oh, like you were Martha Stewart when you were my age.’

  ‘When I was your age I was in boot camp,’ he said sourly. ‘My uniforms were spotless. The pleats in my shorts were sharper than a Ginsu knife.’

  ‘What’s a Ginsu knife?’

  Clay rolled his eyes. ‘Forget it.’

  Alec chuckled. ‘I know what a Ginsu is. I’m just yanking your chain. The inside-out trick works best when I’ve run out of clean clothes, and the only ones that don’t smell like ass have a ketchup stain. You know. In an emergency.’

  ‘And you wonder why you don’t have a girlfriend.’

  Alec scowled at that. ‘I could throw plenty of rocks at your glass house, Mr Casanova. Oh, wait, you’re dateless too.’

  ‘I’m beginning to wish I’d brought Alyssa with me.’

  ‘I’m that bad?’ Alec asked, amusement back in his voice. ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry for the dateless comment.’

  Clay shifted, looking out the window. ‘Nah, it was fair. It’s true anyway.’

  Alec sobered. ‘How was she? Detective Mazzetti?’

  Clay had asked her parents for a few minutes alone with her after they’d finished talking in the ICU waiting area. He knew her parents hadn’t believed his claim that he and Stevie were just friends. They’d even seemed pleased by the notion that there was something between them. Clay had felt a twinge of hope . . . until he’d seen her.

  ‘She’s still unconscious.’ And so fragile. He’d never seen Stevie fragile before. He’d seen her angry and he’d seen her terrified. He’d even seen her cry, nine months ago. She’d just been confronted by the betrayal of one of her oldest friends and her heart was breaking. She’d wanted him to hold her, she’d wanted to walk into his arms. But Stevie didn’t let herself have what she wanted.

  I should have held her anyway. But he’d given her space, hoping she’d come to him on her own. But as the months passed it became clear that wasn’t going to happen.

  Stevie was Cordelia’s mom first. Then a cop. Being a woman came dead last, which meant her interest in Clay came last, too. He knew it, understood it. Didn’t like it worth shit. It sure didn’t change how he saw her – strong, confident, smart. One hell of a beautiful woman, one I’ve wanted from the moment I saw her.

  But today, she’d been fragile.

  ‘She’s going to be okay, right?’ Alec asked.

  ‘The doctors told her parents she has a good chance.’ But Clay didn’t believe it. He’d seen more war wounds than he cared to remember. Men at death’s door had more color in their faces than she had. She’d lost so much blood.

  He’d almost been too afraid to touch her, lying in that hospital bed, so pale. But he’d been more afraid he wouldn’t get another chance. So he’d touched her face, cupped her cheek. Kissed her forehead. Then her lips.

  And then he’d pasted a smile on his face, gone back out to the waiting room, and lied to her parents. Told them he believed she’d pull throug
h.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Alec whispered.

  Maybe Alec hadn’t heard him. ‘I said the doctors were optimistic.’

  ‘But you don’t believe it. And you care for her.’ Alec glanced at him sadly. ‘I may be horrible talking to girls, but I’m good at reading people. You should turn your shirt inside out now. We’re almost at Trooper Gargano’s house. You seemed preoccupied, so I picked for you. If you want to stop and buy a razor, this is the time to say so.’

  Not trusting himself to speak, Clay shrugged out of his leather jacket, pulled the shirt over his head, then put it back on, surreptitiously wiping his eyes as he did so. He figured if nobody noticed the shirt seams under his jacket, they weren’t likely to notice the damp spots on his sleeve either.

  ‘I just want to get this over with,’ Clay said, then focused on talking to Trooper Gargano, the man whose stolen property was at the core of one very bad day.

  Baltimore, Maryland, Tuesday, December 3, 6.50 P.M.

  Joseph skidded to a stop at the front door of Richard Odum’s house. Bo had gotten there first and had stuck his head through the doorway, looking up.

  ‘Report!’ Bo shouted.

  ‘We’re fine.’ Innis appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘You can come up now. I want you to see what would have happened to you if you’d opened the nursery door.’

  Joseph followed Bo up the stairs, then did a double take. ‘Holy fuck.’ The wall directly across from the nursery door now had a hole the size of a toaster oven.

  ‘It was rigged with a shotgun,’ Innis said. ‘Basic setup. String ran from the doorknob up through a hook in the ceiling and down to the trigger. Shotgun was pointed straight at the door. You would have taken a gutful if you’d run in there.’

  ‘I can see that,’ Joseph said. ‘What about the baby?’

  Innis’s partner, Poehler, appeared, carrying a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. ‘She seems okay. They’d wrapped a blanket around the crib.’

  ‘To muffle the sound of her crying,’ Bo said.

  ‘And maybe to protect her from plaster if the ceiling got shot out.’ Poehler handed the baby to Joseph. ‘Here you go.’ He grinned. ‘Her diaper needs to be changed.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’ve done it before.’ Joseph looked down into the baby’s face. She was so small. And very pretty. ‘You really do forget how small they are.’

  ‘You have kids, Agent Carter?’ Innis asked, surprised.

  ‘No.’ Which left him feeling . . . sad. ‘But we all pitched in to help with my youngest sister.’ He looked up at Innis. ‘What about the other doors and the basement?’

  ‘Rascal here didn’t detect any explosives on this level.’ Innis scratched the Belgian Malinois behind his ears. ‘We’ll open these other doors using the riot shields to absorb any shots. Then we’ll start Rascal on the basement. It’s just going to take a while.’

  ‘I’ve instructed the other crews as to what you’ve found,’ Bo said. ‘When you’re done here with Rascal, I’ve got the next addresses for you.’

  ‘Gonna be a long night,’ Poehler said dismally. ‘And I had a date.’

  I wish that’s all I had to lose. Joseph thought of Daphne, waiting by the phone. I don’t have your son. ‘I have to call Daphne and let her know where we are.’

  ‘Tell her we’ll look under every rock,’ Bo said, but there was no hope on his face.

  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 i
t 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.

  Pennsylvania 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?’