Did You Miss Me? (29 page)

Daphne’s eyes narrowed. ‘He lured us to the alley with the text from Ford’s phone.’

‘Why else would he text you at that moment, from that place? He had to know we’d trace the location the text was sent from. He wanted us to find the plastic support plate with George’s fingerprints all over it.’

‘A tidy link,’ Brodie said, ‘from George to the knife to the murder of Zacharias and the abduction of Ford.’

Daphne’s brows knit. ‘But didn’t Doug think that George would mention him?’

‘I think he believed he’d taken care of that,’ Brodie said. ‘Joseph, what if that neighbor hadn’t seen this Doug person through the window with her binoculars? What would you be thinking right now?’

‘That George was lying,’ Joseph said. ‘And I’d be madder than hell that he sent me to that house to check for his baby, considering the booby trap he’d left behind.’

Daphne looked from him to Brodie. ‘What booby trap?’

‘The nursery door was rigged,’ Joseph said. ‘If I’d barged in like I’d wanted to . . .’

‘You’d be dead.’ Brodie turned to Daphne. ‘The shotgun blast took out a wall.’

Most of the color that had returned to her face drained away again. ‘Joseph, I’m . . . Oh, dear Lord. This is because of me. He’s taunting me. You could have been killed.’

‘Don’t even think it,’ he said harshly. ‘I was cautious and I’m not dead. But I would be thinking that George had lured me into a trap.’

‘We’d disregard everything George told us,’ Daphne said. ‘Including the existence of Doug. We’d have charged the Millhouses with the murder of Zacharias and the abduction of Ford.’ She’d grown more shaken as she spoke. ‘We never would have pursued Doug. We’d have kept following Millhouse leads to look for Ford, diverting us from where he really is. Oh my God.’

‘But we do know Doug really exists,’ Joseph soothed. ‘We won’t be diverted.’

‘You’re right,’ Daphne murmured, visibly regaining control of herself. ‘Doug has made this personal. I wonder if I’ve prosecuted him before.’

She’s one hell of an amazing woman
, Joseph thought, admiring her ability to think under circumstances like these. ‘It’s a distinct possibility. A witness says he claimed to be twenty-nine. Maybe you can go through your files for anyone that you either convicted or dealt that would match his age and “ordinary” appearance. Hopefully I’ll have a photo for you in a few hours.’

‘I’ll start looking through my files right away. But first, since it wasn’t Ford’s blood, whose blood
did
you find, Dr Brodie?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve submitted samples for PCR analysis, so we’ll have DNA profiles by tomorrow. I also submitted a sample of the baby’s DNA, just so we’ll know paternity.’

‘How old was the crime scene in the basement?’

‘A few hours, maybe. The blood pooled on the floor had started to congeal around the edges. The blood on the wall had already dried, but it had been applied thinly.’

Daphne contemplated the watch. ‘My ex-husband has Type B negative blood. And he wears his Rolex every single day. I called him an hour ago to give him an update on Ford, but he didn’t answer. I didn’t think anything about it because he rarely answers me right away. B negative is a fairly rare type. Was it B negative?’

‘Yes, it was, actually.’

‘We’ll get someone out to his house to check,’ Joseph said.

‘Maybe this is about Travis,’ she said. ‘He’s pissed off people in his career. If the Millhouses are a diversion, maybe whoever took Ford is trying to get back at Travis.’

Brodie tilted her head. ‘What does your ex-husband do?’

‘He’s a judge, district court in Loudoun County. You’re frowning, Joseph. Why?’

‘Because there was a message, written on the wall. “Now you know how it feels.
”
’

Daphne let out a breath. ‘What Cindy said to me. But she’s in jail. If this was done a few hours ago . . . We’re back to Doug. What about Kimberly? What blood type is she?’

‘I’m still waiting on her medical records,’ Brodie said, ‘but the blood I found in the alley near her car was O positive. It wasn’t her blood in the basement either.’

‘Do we know where Richard Odum is?’ Daphne asked. ‘Was he at the courthouse today? Maybe one of Bill Millhouse’s followers who got cold feet?’

‘I put a BOLO out on Odum when I was on my way up to Timonium, but we’ve got no hits yet,’ Joseph said.

‘Actually, we did,’ Brodie said. ‘While I was typing the blood in the Timonium basement, Bo heard from the other SWAT teams. Odum was found dead in one of the other houses he bought with Reggie’s defense fund. His throat was slit. The blood in the Timonium basement could be his, but I can’t be certain until I’ve run the tests.’

‘And his wife?’ Joseph asked.

‘Her body was found with his,’ Brodie replied.

Doug’s getting rid of loose ends
, Joseph thought, but kept it to himself. At some point Ford would become a loose end too. They had to find him before that happened. And Joseph wanted to shift the topic before Daphne realized that fact.

‘My team’s going to be gathering downstairs for a debrief soon.’

Her gaze became challenging. ‘And I should stay here?’

‘You’re welcome to join us. I may not be the most enlightened man on the planet, but I can be taught.’

The challenge softened to gratitude. ‘Yes, I’d like to join you. Thank you.’

Brodie put the watch in her briefcase. ‘I’ll go break the not-such-bad news to SA Smith and his fiancée. I’ll meet you in the team room, Agent Carter.’

When they were alone neither of them said anything for a moment.

Joseph sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Daphne. I didn’t wait for all of the evidence. I just raced down here to tell you and I put you through hell.’

‘Why did you? Race down here to tell me, I mean.’

‘The media. One of the reporters saw me leave the house and guessed Ford was dead. Three of the stations had already broadcast the story of “rumors” that Ford was dead before I was even halfway down here. I didn’t want you to hear it that way.’

She was watching him, her expression suddenly inscrutable. ‘That addresses the urgency, I suppose,’ she said softly. ‘But you could have called me.’

‘Oh no I couldn’t,’ he blurted out, his face heating as her eyes widened. He backpedalled, trying to salvage his pride. ‘Daphne . . . you’re an amazingly strong woman. But even a strong woman shouldn’t hear news like that on the phone. It needed to be in person.’

‘Grayson was here.’

‘Dammit,’ he snapped. ‘I didn’t want it to be Grayson. I wanted it to be
me
.’

Her expression abruptly changed, swinging from inscrutable to wide open. In her eyes he saw a deep yearning that gave him the courage to say to hell with salvaging his pride and to give her the honesty she deserved.

‘I wanted it to be me because I’m a selfish bastard,’ he said quietly. ‘If you’d needed anyone after you were told, I wanted it to be me. I wanted you to need me.’

‘I did,’ she whispered. ‘And I will again before this is over.’

And then?
‘Whatever you need,’ he managed.

And then she stunned him by walking into his arms, once again sliding hers around his waist. ‘I need not to have to be strong. For just a little while. Please.’

His arms tightened around her.
Finally
. He was holding her, not because she was light-headed or ill.
Because I’m me
.
She came to me
. He ran his hands up and down her back, learning the feel of her. ‘For as long as you want.’

‘Joseph?’

He loved the way she said his name. ‘Yes?’

‘If you had gotten yourself killed today, I would have been very angry with you.’

He smiled against her hair. ‘I certainly don’t want to make you angry.’

‘I’m serious.’ She pulled back far enough to see his face. She
was
serious, her blue eyes dark with worry. ‘I want my son back. But I don’t want you killing yourself to make it happen. Please. Promise me.’

He swept his thumb over her lips. Just once. ‘I promise.’

‘Thank you.’ She continued looking up at him, searching his face for something he couldn’t guess. He only knew that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Soft and vulnerable. But underneath she was tempered steel.

And he knew that he needed her. Wanted her. He cupped her cheek in his palm, closing the distance between them. Watched her eyes slide closed as he covered her mouth with his. He spread his hand across her back to bring her a little closer. And let himself sink a little deeper.

It was a chaste kiss that rocked him to his core. And when he raised his head he knew that once would never be enough.

She opened her eyes and he saw no regret. Just quiet acceptance of what had just transpired between them. And trust. It was the trust that had his heart knocking out of his chest.
She trusts me
.
Needs me
.

‘Now what do we do?’ she whispered.

‘We find Doug and we follow him to Ford.’ And then . . . more.
I need more of her
.

Chapter Twelve

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Tuesday, December 3, 8.05
P.M.

‘
I
have to say I’m impressed,’ Alec said as they walked into Philly PD’s headquarters. ‘And, truthfully, relieved. You’re better connected than I thought.’

‘We shouldn’t get trouble from the locals,’ Clay murmured. ‘Novak’s another story.’

The Fed had been excessively annoyed to find Clay had ‘interfered’ with Gargano. Novak had curtly summoned him to Philly PD’s headquarters to ‘debrief’.

‘They say we’re six degrees of separation from everybody on the planet. I never really believed that until just now,’ Alec said, glancing nervously at the uniformed officers giving them hard stares as they walked up to the main desk.

Probably because I look like a drug dealer
. Clay was dirty, unshaven, his pants still stained with Stevie’s blood. ‘You stay in this business long enough and everybody’s connected, kid. You just got a head start.’

Clay had reached out to an old friend to smooth his way with the Philly PD, but he was on his own with Novak and the local Feds. Carter wouldn’t be able to bail him out of any trouble Novak made for him. Carter was too busy containing the mess in Baltimore.

Which had become the most royal of cluster-fucks. Ford was dead. Daphne was shattered.
I was too late
.

‘’Scuse me.’ The man had just come out of the elevator and was walking toward them. He was no more than thirty, his sandy blond hair cut military short. ‘You the PI?’

Clay nodded to the man. ‘I’m Maynard,’ he said.

‘Detective Wiznewski. Come with me, please.’

‘This is Alec Vaughn, my associate. He stays with me, if you don’t mind.’

Wiznewski shrugged and hit the elevator button. ‘Whatever. I’m supposed to take you straight to the LT. How is it that you know Chick? Are you related? Because he’s got, like, a million brothers and sisters and cousins.’

‘He’s a friend of a friend. Ciccotelli’s sister is married to a Chicago homicide cop.’

‘Him, I’ve met. Nice guy. Reagan, right?’

‘Right,’ Clay said. ‘Aidan Reagan. Aidan’s brother is also a homicide cop. My old partner and I worked with the brother on an abduction case in Chicago about six years ago.’ Which is how Clay had met Alec.
We aren’t always too late
.
‘
My old partner decided to stay in Chicago and is tight with the locals there.’

The elevator doors opened and Wiznewski shepherded them in. ‘Why’d he stay?’

‘Ethan got married,’ Clay said. ‘He left my firm.’

‘The new wife made him quit?’ Wiznewski was clearly a man who liked his gossip.

‘Dana wouldn’t have done that,’ Alec inserted loyally, but the sideways glance he gave Clay was questioning, as if he’d wondered.

‘She didn’t make him quit,’ Clay said firmly. ‘Ethan wanted to settle down, have a family. Plus, his godson had moved to Chicago. He wanted to be close to the kid.’

Alec’s lips curved. He was the godson. ‘Because the kid was awesome.’

‘And very humble,’ Clay said dryly.

Thinking about those old days was a double-edged sword. He was happy for his old friend, because Ethan had definitely gotten his wish. Dana had just given birth to their third child. Between their kids and all the fosters they had running around, their house was pretty damn exciting. And pretty damn happy.

But Clay envied his old friend, too, because thinking about Ethan’s happy home made him wish for one of his own, which made him think of Stevie, as it always did.

The elevator doors opened. ‘Chick’s office is over here,’ Wiznewski said.

A man was leaning against the doorframe of a perimeter office, scrutinizing them as they approached. Tall and lean, his black hair was threaded with silver at the temples.

That would be Vito Ciccotelli
, Clay thought. Alec stayed at his side, but his stance changed as they stopped in front of Ciccotelli. The kid stood tall, shoulders back just enough to be firm without appearing defiant.

He’s protecting me
, Clay realized, incredibly touched.

‘Lieutenant Ciccotelli?’ Clay asked and the guy nodded.

‘You’re Maynard.’ He stuck out his hand and Clay shook it. ‘I’ve heard stories. I wish we weren’t meeting under these circumstances.’

‘Thank you.’ Clay pointed to Alec. ‘Alec Vaughn, from Chicago.’

Ciccotelli’s dark brows shot up. ‘Really? I’ve heard stories about you, too, but you’re always twelve years old in them.’

‘Twelve was a pretty action-packed year,’ Alec said lightly. ‘I’ve led a relatively uneventful life since then.’

Ciccotelli shook Alec’s hand. ‘I think you’ve broken your streak of uneventful, son.’ He gestured them into his office. ‘Come have a seat.’

Ciccotelli’s office was tidy, his desk cleared of paper, every book neatly arranged on the shelves. It might have been stark, except for a toddler’s artwork taped to his office door. In the bottom right corner of each drawing an adult had written ‘Anna.’

And, of course, there was the photo on his desk – a blonde with a radiant smile. She sat astride a motorcycle, her helmet tucked under her arm.

‘Your wife?’ Clay asked.

‘Better be,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘If Sophie found me with the picture of another woman on my desk, she’d . . . well, let’s just say she’s very skilled with sharp objects. Add to that she’s eight months pregnant and
very
cranky, and I toe the line.’ He checked the time. ‘The others should be back soon.’

‘Who are the others?’ Clay asked.

‘The detectives I’ve assigned to this case, plus Agent Novak.’

‘
You’ve
assigned to the case? You’re homicide.’

‘So it says on my badge.’

Oh no
. Dread pooled in Clay’s gut. ‘But Pamela MacGregor is a missing person case. Have you found her?’
Please let it not be too late
.

‘No, we haven’t found her. But this afternoon we were able to link her disappearance to a homicide that occurred yesterday afternoon.’

Clay closed his eyes. ‘Who?’

‘Elmarie Stodart, a young au pair from South Africa. She’d taken her two charges, a toddler and a five-year-old, to the mall to see Santa. From what we’ve been able to piece together from the older child’s testimony, Elmarie saw that the toddler had dropped a toy on the floor of the parking garage, locked the kids in the van, and went to get it. We think she discovered Pamela being forced into a vehicle, tried to help, but was stabbed in the process. By the time she was found, she’d bled out.’

‘And the children?’ Clay asked, afraid to hear the answer.

‘The baby had fallen asleep, but the five-year-old saw everything. She’s in shock.’

‘Security tapes?’ Alec asked.

‘The cameras don’t see between vehicles. Elmarie’s killer stabbed her between two vans, then pushed her body under a car. None of that action was captured. We know her killer left in a black van. We ran the plates – they were stolen off another vehicle. We put it on the wire as soon as we knew, but I imagine they’ve already been changed.’

Clay dragged his hands over his face. ‘Was the child able to describe the killer?’

‘No. She was too hysterical. My sketch artist is going to try tonight. At the moment, we have nothing. That’s why my detectives want to talk to you. Linking Kimberly MacGregor to this Doug person is the first real lead we’ve had.’

‘You need to be in contact with Agent Carter in Baltimore. I have his number.’

‘Already talked to him. And he already knew about the black van. We’ll conference with them at 8.15. Before then, I’d appreciate any information your PIs have dug up.’

‘I want to sit in on the meeting,’ Clay said baldly.

Ciccotelli went still. ‘And if I refuse?’

‘I’ll still tell you everything I know. I want this Doug stopped.’

For several seconds Ciccotelli said nothing. Then he lifted his brows. ‘How do you feel about being an unpaid consultant?’

It was an invitation, and far more than Clay had expected. ‘Favorably. Thanks.’

There was a knock on the door and Wiznewski stuck his head in. ‘Maynard, you have a call. Your partner has been trying to reach you on your cell for a half hour.’

Heart hammering, Clay took the receiver Ciccotelli offered, checking his cell phone at the same time. ‘No bars in here,’ he said to Paige. ‘I wasn’t avoiding you.’

‘Clay, it wasn’t Ford in that basement! We don’t know who it was, but it wasn’t Ford’s blood type.
We aren’t too late
.’ She sobered suddenly. ‘At least, not yet.’

Relief had him light-headed.
Thank you
. ‘Have you heard from Stevie’s folks?’

Her voice softened sadly. ‘No change.’

Clay cleared his throat. ‘What about Tuzak? Have you heard from the ME?’

‘He’s supposed to be at Joseph’s 8.15 meeting. Says he should have preliminary tox results.’

‘Tell Carter that Kim’s father is a veterinarian. Ask the ME if any of the drugs he finds in Tuzak’s tox screen could be found in a vet’s supply closet. MacGregor treats horses. Those meds should be stronger and Kim may have had access.’

‘Nice, Clay,’ Paige said. ‘I’ll let him know. Listen, you didn’t ask, but Daphne tried to make this call. She couldn’t because she had to go to her office to pull trial records to see if she ever prosecuted Doug. She told me to keep at it until I found you.’

A little warmth curled around his belly. ‘Thanks. I wanted to ask, but was afraid to. Tell her . . . tell her I won’t rest until we know where he is. I’ll talk to you later.’ Clay handed the receiver back to Ciccotelli. ‘We got a brief reprieve. That wasn’t Ford Elkhart’s blood in the basement.’

‘Thank God,’ Alec breathed. ‘Whose is it?’

‘Damn good question, kid.’

‘Damn good observation about MacGregor being a vet,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘Who’s Tuzak?’ Clay started to answer, but Ciccotelli held up his hand. ‘Wait. Sign this.’ He pulled the page he’d been typing from the printer and slid it across the table.

Clay had to laugh. ‘My contract saying I’m an “unpaid consultant.” So formal.’

‘I learned the hard way to get everything in writing, Mr Maynard. My first consultant was Sophie there.’ Ciccotelli pointed to her photo, laughter in his eyes. ‘I didn’t have a signed agreement with her and ended up marrying her.’

Clay smiled as he signed the contract then drew a breath, sobering. ‘Tuzak is Isaac Zacharias. This is what’s happened so far.’

Baltimore, Maryland, Tuesday, December 3, 8.15
P.M.

Joseph went straight from his debriefing with Bo Lamar and the brass to the conference room where his team waited for their call with Philly PD.

‘Everyone ready?’ he asked as he took the seat at the head of the table. He did a quick head count. Grayson and JD were here as were Kate and Hector. Brodie was representing CSU and Quartermaine had texted that he’d be late.

Daphne sat at the end of the table looking composed. Until she met his eyes and he saw the strain. He wished he could make all of this go away. Wished that they were just two people who had nothing but time to explore an attraction that, thank God, was mutual. But they weren’t two normal people.

Her son was still missing.
And I won’t rest until he’s found
.

The side conversations ceased as Joseph dialed Philly PD on the speaker phone. When the phone began to ring, everyone got quiet.

‘This is Ciccotelli.’ The man had a smooth voice. ‘Agent Carter?’

‘Yes,’ Joseph said. ‘I’ll tell you who I have here, then you can introduce your crew.’ He introduced his team, providing rank and role. ‘Our ME will be here soon. You have one of ours up there. Is Special Agent Novak with you?’

‘He is,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘I’ve also got private investigator Clay Maynard here, acting as a special consultant.’

‘We’re glad for any help we can get,’ Joseph said, surprised at Clay’s inclusion until he remembered that the PI was connected to the Ciccotellis through friends and family.

Joseph knew all about consulting with family. Grayson pulled him in on cases from time to time and both of them consulted with their younger sister Zoe. A police shrink, her perspective had helped Joseph understand – and catch – several suspects over the years. He made a mental note to call her later about Doug.
Because we need any help we can get
.

‘
We’re happy to help however we can,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘In addition to your two, I’ve got Yelton from IT, and McFain, CSU.’

The door opened and Quartermaine slipped in, taking the seat beside Daphne.

‘And we’ve just been joined by Dr Neil Quartermaine,’ Joseph said, ‘our new ME. I’ve briefed my team on the murder of the au pair,’ Joseph said. ‘Elmarie Stodart. Any luck with the sketch artist talking to the five-year-old witness?’

‘Not yet,’ Ciccotelli said. ‘But if anyone can coax it out of her mind, it’s our guy.’

‘He knows how to do that correctly, right?’ Daphne asked. ‘You push too hard, you can make it worse. You can break the child.’ This she knew from personal experience.

‘He understands that. He’s good with kids. I’d trust him with my own daughter.’

‘I hope he’s successful,’ Joseph said, looking annoyed. ‘We thought we had Doug’s face on video at a local drugstore, but their system tapes over itself every two weeks. We missed it by a day. We’ve got a sketch artist meeting with the one witness who saw him. We’ll compare sketches, but a photo would have been really nice.’

‘What about the house you mentioned?’ Ciccotelli asked. ‘Any prints there?’

‘Tons of prints,’ Joseph said. ‘None that match any of our databases yet. Latent is still processing the scene. What about mall security tapes? Any possible face shots?’

‘No. Pamela was walking through the parking garage with a man, five-nine, one-eighty-five, but a hoodie hid his face. They walked between two cars right about the time the au pair got out of her van. Neither Elmarie nor Pamela reappears on the tape. A black van pulls away, driven by what appears to be a woman.’

‘But was really hoodie-guy wearing a wig,’ Novak told them. ‘I’ve studied the tapes. This guy’s build is slight enough that he passed for a woman.’