Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

get it. You didn’t want her to find out the wrong way. But—’
    The water shut off and Daphne emerged, holding her hiking boots by the laces. She’d changed her heavy sweater for one of lighter weight and now wore sensible loafers. No need to be dressed for an outdoor search now . She’d applied lipstick. Her version of body armor, he suspected.
    She sank into her chair, smelling faintly of toothpaste and peaches, the latter from her hand lotion. He knew this because he’d smelled peaches on his own hand after holding hers in the observation room earlier that afternoon.
    She squared her shoulders. ‘All right, Dr Brodie. I’m listening.’
    Hunt Valley, Maryland, Tuesday, December 3, 8.00 P.M.
    Mitch took a step back, frowning at his handiwork in the glow of his flashlight. He’d done better work in Odum’s basement, but it was harder to line up the letters out here in the dark. He wondered how the message would appear in the light of day, if the human blood would dry a different color than animal blood.
    It wasn’t the message he’d really wanted to paint. That would come after Ford got himself fucking found.
    Did you miss me?
    So far, Ford was still missing. What was wrong with that boy? He should have arrived in the nearest town by now. But there had been no reports on any of the police radio channels within a fifty mile radius of Wilson Beckett’s cabin.
    He’d known there was a chance he’d have to go back and help the kid, but he’d really thought that Ford could handle a measly twenty-mile trek. He turned off his flashlight and stored his materials in the van.
    He hoped the roads were clear through the mountains. He needed to be home by mid-morning. Thank you so much, Cole . Mitch had woken from his nap to a message from Cole’s guidance counselor who wanted to discuss his brother’s behavior issues with his ‘guardian’, Betty Douglas.
    Mitch hoped the counsellor continued to buy his story that Betty was house ridden, the cold weather a risk to her health. Otherwise he’d have to hire another old woman to play Betty. He’d had to do so in Florida because he was on parole and didn’t want the cops knowing he’d left Maryland without permission.
    He’d had to do it again when they’d first returned to Baltimore because Betty had died. Mitch had wanted to stay under the radar then, so he’d buried her quietly in the back garden, notifying no one. He’d read Betty’s will. It was enough to know the house belonged to him. He didn’t need – or want – his name listed as the new owner of the house. And, of course, he didn’t mind the Social Security checks that continued to be deposited in her bank account month after month. It wasn’t a lot of money but it kept the cupboards full. Because Cole ate like a horse. Mitch scowled. When he wasn’t getting into trouble at school.
    If possible, he wanted to be back here at Daphne’s farm by dawn. Just to see the reaction of whoever found his barn art. He wished it could be Daphne herself, but the Feds had her locked down. They wouldn’t let her come all the way out here.
    But that was okay. All this – the barn, the basement – it was all warm-up. Just the windup before the pitch. The tease before the huge rollercoaster dip. Is Ford alive? Is he dead? Is he alive? Soon enough she’d find out her son wasn’t dead after all, but then Ford would say the magic words and Daphne’s world would turn upside down.
    Did you miss me?
    Those four little words were the key to unlocking Daphne Montgomery’s personal nightmare. And to think  . . .  Had I not gone to prison, I would have never known about them .
    Mitch had his stepfather to thank for the whole prison experience, but supposed he also owed some thanks to his old cell mate, Crazy Earl. Earl was convinced that the warden had hidden cameras in the ductwork so that he could spy on the inmates.
    Mitch had tried for weeks to convince Earl that the warden didn’t need to hide cameras in the vents – there were cameras in plain view on nearly every freaking corner of the cell block. But Crazy Earl was not to be dissuaded because he was crazy.
    Later, when the good people of the state prison board had enrolled Mitch in HVAC training, he remembered Crazy Earl and wondered if it could be done. At first his thoughts were purely prurient. After months of forced celibacy he wanted to catch a little T&A action. But then he realized that he was thinking way too narrowly. Having the ability