Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

man look drunk. A guy in a trooper’s uniform could explain away a lot of bad behavior from a drunk.
    He opened the door and pulled his stepfather in, but didn’t need to work too hard. The old man staggered. He must be drunk already.
    ‘What the fucking hell is wrong with you?’ Mitch hissed, then flew backward when his stepfather’s fist connected with his jaw.
    The old man straightened to his full height. ‘You worthless piece of shit.’
    Okay . Not drunk after all .
    Mitch came to his feet, his back protesting the movement. He said nothing, watching warily, waiting for the old man to speak again.
    Mutt’s daddy didn’t say another word though, instead reaching into his pocket, putting Mitch on full alert. But he didn’t bring out a gun. He brought out a bundle the size of a child’s fist, wrapped in a hankie. Soaked red with blood.
    Deliberately his stepfather took one corner of the hankie and flung its contents in Mitch’s face. He was pelted with small, hard objects, wet with blood. With horror Mitch stared at the floor where they fell, the syringe he held behind his back nearly forgotten. Fingers. And toes.
    Fingers and toes . Bile rose in Mitch’s throat as his gaze zeroed in on one of the fingers. It bore Mutt’s ring. The one he’d gotten for being the true son. Mitch swallowed hard and looked up at his stepfather. His old man still stared at the floor. At Mutt’s fingers and toes.
    ‘I found them this morning when I went out for the paper,’ his stepfather whispered hoarsely. ‘I followed the trail, picking them up. Until I found him. In the garbage.’
    Antonov . Cutting off his victims’ digits was one of his signatures. Matthew . I didn’t care if you got caught in your father’s crossfire, but I didn’t want anything like this .
    ‘ It was supposed to be you,’ Mitch heard himself say. ‘Not Mutt. You .’
    His stepfather lifted his chin, fury in his eyes. ‘You filthy son of a whore.’
    ‘Then so is Mutt. We share a mother. Or have you forgotten?’
    His stepfather roared. ‘His name is Matthew!’ He charged and Mitch stepped to the side, plunging the needle in his shoulder smoothly.
    Like a fucking dance . Thirty seconds later his stepfather really was drunk.
    ‘How did you find me?’ Mitch asked.
    ‘Tracker,’ the old man slurred. ‘I knew it was you yesterday. Matthew thought you were too stupid. I told him to put a tracker under your vehicles. Never expected to find you here. What’s here, anyway?’
    ‘Daphne.’
    The old man’s eyes bulged out and he tried to fight but the ket was acting fast. His punch went wild and he ended up on the floor. ‘Daphne. Don’t touch her.’
    ‘I’ll do more than touch her. I’m going to kill her.’
    ‘Why?’ It was an agonized cry and music to Mitch’s ears.
    ‘For my mother. My mother killed herself because Daphne stole the man she loved. I hate that she gave up her life for a worthless piece of shit like you.’
    ‘Noooo,’ the old man wailed as he wound down.
    Mitch slung his stepfather’s arm over his shoulder and hurried him down the elevator to his Jeep. His stepfather was dead weight by the time he got him in the back seat. This was unexpected, having both his stepfather and Daphne under his control at the same time. He’d take them both to Aunt Betty’s bomb shelter where he’d have more time to play. His stepfather had just lost his only true son. Now he was about to lose his obsession. Mitch covered him with an old blanket.
    Then he took off for Beckett’s little cabin in the woods.

Chapter Twenty-Five
    Marston, West Virginia, Thursday, December 5, 1.00 P.M.
    S he’d said little since the argument they’d had in hissed whispers outside the bus station. Joseph had planned to take her back to the hotel but she’d refused to go, refused to get into the SUV until he promised to take her to wherever O’Hurley would lead them. She’d be in danger, he told her. Doug would be there, waiting for her.
    Which was why she needed to be there, she’d fired back. He’d constructed this scheme for a reason. If she didn’t go where he wanted her to go, he’d just postpone the inevitable until she did. Plus, she’d argued that she knew where the underground bunker was. If Heather was still alive, she could save them valuable time in rescuing her. Then she’d begged Joseph to let her help rescue the girl, not to deny her what he did every day – save missing people to make up for not being able to save