Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

Prologue
    Marston, West Virginia, Tuesday, December 3, 3.14 A.M.
    C old . So cold . Ford curled into himself, instinctively trying to find some warmth. But there was none.
    Cold . The floor was cold. And hard. And dirty. Hard to breathe .
    The wind was blowing outside, rattling windows, sending jets of frigid air around his body. Over his skin. So cold . A shudder wracked him and he struggled to open his eyes. It was dark. Can’t see . Head hurts . God . He tried to get up, to push at whatever covered his eyes, but he couldn’t. Where am  . . .  what hap—
    Clarity returned in a rush and with it came blinding panic. He was blindfolded. Gagged. Tied, hands and feet. No . He fought wildly for a few seconds, hissing when the rope seared his skin. He slumped, his heart racing.
    Kim . The image of her face broke through the pounding in his head. He’d been with Kim. Walking her to her car, so happy that she finally let him do so after three months of dating. Relieved that she finally admitted she needed him, because he’d quickly come to need her, to crave the way she could make him feel. He’d never known anyone to so perfectly match his interests. Wants. Needs.
    Like she was made for me alone .
    Fiercely independent, she always insisted that she didn’t need a sitter, didn’t need any guy to protect her. But not this time. She asked me to walk her . Because it was a bad part of town. Because she needed me . She needed me and I fucked up .
    Where was she? Don’t let her be here . Tied up. Gagged. Please let her be all right .
    What the hell had happened? There was an alley . They’d gone through an alley because Kim parked behind the movie theater. That damn foreign film . She’d had to see some French film for class. Weird theater, sketchy part of town. He’d been angry with the prof for assigning the film to start with and was going to tell him so.
    Kim didn’t want him to confront the prof. They’d been arguing about it when he’d heard a noise. Felt . . . pain. Oh God . The fear in Kim’s dark eyes. Her scream. Every nerve in his body fired all at once and then there was the shattering pain in his head, right before everything went dark.
    Kim . He threw his body forward and grunted, the exploding pain in his shoulder sending him back to the floor where he huddled, grimacing. Where is she?
    He drew another breath, taking care not to inhale the dirt this time. Quieting himself, he listened for any sound – a whisper, a wheeze, a whimper. But there was none.
    She’s not here . He closed his eyes, fighting to control his pounding heart. Please don’t let her be here . Because if she was here, she wasn’t breathing. If she was here, she was hurt. Maybe dead. No . No . He shook his head hard, wincing when the pain spiked deep. She got away . Please let her have gotten away .
    Away  . . .  from what? From whom? Where is here? The panic rose in his throat, choking him. Calm down . Think . You know how to think .
    Thinking was what Ford Elkhart did best.
    He closed his eyes, forced himself to calm. To think. To remember. It’s cold . Which told him nothing. It was December, for God’s sake. He could be anywhere north of Florida.
    Why? Why me? He gave the ropes binding his wrists another hard yank, then swore when his frozen skin burned. Why?
    He knew why.
    Money. Ransom. It had to be. Kids of rich parents were prey. He wondered if they were contacting his mother or his father. He hoped his mother. Dad won’t pay a dime to get me back , he thought bitterly, then pictured his mother and his heart clenched.
    Mom . She’d be terrified. Out of her mind with worry. Because his mother had prosecuted enough of these cases to know what was happening to him, right now.
    Enough of these cases . . .  Oh no . Hell, no . His stomach turned over as he considered the alternative. It was The Case. Oh God . The case he couldn’t wait to see over. The murder case that had consumed his mother for months. Those trashy Millhouses. Reggie was the killer, but the rest of the Millhouses were probably just as bad – they just hadn’t been caught yet. They hate Mom . They’d harassed her. Threatened her. Threatened me . If the Millhouses were behind this . . . I’m fucked .
    I’m sorry, Mom . She’d urged him to let her hire a bodyguard, just until the case died down. He hadn’t wanted anyone following him around, snooping on him and Kim. He hadn’t needed a bodyguard. He could take care of