Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

through. He turned to look over his shoulder, his eyes squeezing closed of their own volition. Don’t want to see what’s causing that smell . He forced himself to look and the breath he held shuddered out.
    Not Kim . Not human . Maybe a dog or a cat. Maybe. But not human .
    To the left of the carcass was a door. He started crawling, then stopped. Behind the carcass were bones. Whoever left that animal had done so before. Many times.
    I’m back . Did you miss me? Ford swallowed hard. What kind of sick freak was he dealing with? The kind that tases people , he thought grimly, then kidnaps them .
    And he’s got Kim . Unless she got away . Please let her have gotten away .
    He crawled to the door, leaned hard against it. It didn’t budge. Worn, Ford pressed his back to the door and slid down to sit. This is hopeless .
    Stop it . He closed his eyes. Get your bearings . You need to cut these ropes . You’ll never get out of here unless you can move . So find something sharp . Anything will do .
    He opened his eyes. Hello . Under a set of plastic shelves was a box cutter. Hopefully it was still sharp.
    He crawled back across the room, slowing as he passed the carcass again. Why was it here? Because it hadn’t been last night. I would have remembered a stench like that . He made himself look. It was a cat. Or had been. But there didn’t seem to be any blood. It was covered in dirt. The cat had been buried, then dug up. That’s just sick .
    The animal wore a collar with a tag attached. The collar was old, but the tag was new. Shiny. Engraved with ‘Fluffy’, in a flowery script. What the hell?
    Consider it later . He needed that box cutter.
    Baltimore, Maryland, Tuesday, December 3, 10.20 A.M.
    Giving Clay Maynard a cursory glance, Special Agent Deacon Novak removed his wraparound sunglasses and walked the alley like he owned it, as was his way.
    Joseph found the man’s way annoying, but Bo Lamar swore that Deacon had ‘skills’. Joseph wondered if Bo counted dramatic flair as a core skill.
    Once he’d explored the scene, Deacon doubled back, crouched down, and studied the body. ‘So who exactly is this guy?’ he asked over his shoulder.
    ‘His name is Isaac Zacharias,’ Joseph said. ‘He was a DC cop, moonlighting as private security for Mr Maynard here, guarding SA Montgomery’s son, who’s missing.’
    Deacon noted the AFID tags. ‘Taser.’ Rising, he lifted his uncovered eyes to Maynard, who flinched, a common reaction when seeing Deacon’s eyes for the first time.
    Deacon knew it and, Joseph suspected, used it to his full advantage. The man was only about thirty, but his hair was snow white and apparently had been for years.
    However, it was his eyes that really threw people off. His irises were bi-colored – both of them. Half brilliant blue and half chocolate brown, each iris looked like two different eyes had been sliced, mixed, and spliced.
    Of course they’re contacts , Joseph thought. Nobody has real eyes like that .
    Deacon lifted his brows to Clay. ‘Not much of a bodyguard, was he?’
    Maynard drew a sharp breath, let it out. His whole body vibrated with anger, but he kept his clenched fists at his sides and his voice to a low growl. ‘This was a good man. A family man. A good cop. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve you.’ He cast an angry glance at Joseph. ‘“For now” is officially over.’
    ‘Maynard was a cop,’ Joseph muttered. ‘This was his friend. Have some respect.’
    Deacon’s odd eyes flickered. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he said quietly.
    Maynard just shook his head. ‘Go to hell.’
    ‘Planning on it,’ Deacon replied evenly. ‘So how did SA Montgomery hire you? She find your ad on craigslist or something?’
    Maynard gritted his teeth. ‘She and I are friends.’
    And lovers , Joseph thought, bitter envy welling up. Then swiftly came the shame. They had one man dead and two college kids missing. Who Daphne Montgomery bedded was not his focus. Bringing her son and his girlfriend home – alive – was.
    ‘How did Zacharias come to work for you?’ Joseph asked Maynard.
    ‘I recruited him years ago. We served together.’ Maynard’s gaze dropped back down to the body, pain in his eyes. ‘Rode together on patrol.’
    Damn . Partners, too . Joseph’s resentment ebbed. Maynard may have won who Joseph wanted, but he wasn’t such a bastard as to strike out at a man in pain.
    ‘So this wasn’t his first job for you,’ Deacon