Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

Stevie.’
    ‘Everybody does sometime. And surgery and me . . . we don’t mix so good. So if I do . . . you tell Cordy that I love her. Promise me .’
    Joseph’s throat closed at the thought of having to say those words to Stevie’s little girl. ‘Stop this, right now. You are not going to die.’
    ‘And JD . . . You tell him if he names that baby of his “Stevie” then I’ll haunt him.’
    ‘She needs to go to surgery,’ the orderly said. ‘You have to go.’
    ‘Wait,’ Stevie growled. ‘Not done. Tell Clay . . . I wish I’d been ready. That I . . . wanted . . . you know.’ Her eyes fluttered closed. ‘If I don’t die, you tell nobody nothin’.’
    ‘I promise.’ He stepped back, watched the elevator take her away. Stevie was a good cop. A single mother, having lost her husband and five-year-old son to a random shooting while still pregnant with Cordelia. She wasn’t ready to risk her heart again.
    Joseph knew the feeling. He hoped for both Stevie and Maynard’s sake that she’d work through her grief faster than he had. His heart had broken ten years ago and it had only started beating again nine months ago. When he’d seen Daphne for the first time.
    ‘Agent Carter?’ Dr Burke leaned around the curtain. ‘Can you come here, please?’
    He was at the curtain before she finished the question. ‘Is she all right?’
    ‘No stitches were needed. She can go home or wherever you can keep her safest.’
    ‘And she’s not . . . sick? Nothing I need to do?’
    Burke checked her clipboard. ‘I have to see to other injuries. She can go home.’
    Guess that means it’s not my business . Joseph pulled the curtain, finding Daphne standing by the bed, coiffed but fragile. Her head was bowed, her shoulders heavy.
    ‘Daphne?’ When she met his eyes, his heart clenched. He’d seen too many parents of abducted children with that look in their eyes. The agony, the envisioning of what could be happening to their child at that very moment. The fear that they’d never get them back. The fear of what their lives would be like if they did get them back. He saw the parents’ eyes in his nightmares.
    The adults whose spouse or a lover had been abducted wore a different look, just as agonized. It was the look that said they knew that a vital part of themselves had been ripped away, never to be regained. That look he’d seen in the mirror.
    ‘Go,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘Don’t you stay here another second.’
    ‘I’m not leaving you unprotected.’
    ‘There are a dozen cops in the waiting room, here for the cops who are hurt. All of them have guns. I am protected. My son . . .’ Her voice broke. ‘My son is out there somewhere, Joseph. So don’t you dare waste another second babysitting me.’
    ‘All right. My boss is Special Agent Bo Lamar. He’s got federal agents on their way to your house. They’ll trace any call that comes in. A security team will escort you home. We have Bill Millhouse in custody. I’ll personally question him and his wife.’
    ‘There’s another son in custody. George. He came in late to court today. He’d been rushing. He was out of breath. Seemed more wired than usual. And then Cindy somehow had a knife in the courtroom. There has to be a connection.’
    ‘I’ll check it out.’
    ‘You said Kimberly was missing. She’s the girlfriend that Ford hadn’t brought home.’
    He frowned, surprised. ‘You didn’t know about her?’
    ‘No, I knew about her. Ford told me. He said she was nervous about meeting me. Something about bad prior experiences with the mother of an old boyfriend. Ford’s been giving her space. But he’s told me bits and pieces about her.’
    ‘Is that why he didn’t want a bodyguard? Because he wanted to give her space?’
    ‘I think so. Have you notified her family?’
    ‘An agent from the Philly office should be there now. I’ll be by your house to update you as soon as I can.’ He hated to leave her, but knew he had to go. ‘Be careful.’
    She nodded numbly. ‘You too.’
    Marston, West Virginia, Tuesday, December 3, 1.00 P.M.
    Frustrated, Ford smacked the steering wheel of the piece-of-shit truck he’d stolen from the old man. ‘Out of gas.’ Of course it is .
    He’d driven miles, not passing a single house or another vehicle. He had passed a rusty West Virginia highway marker, so at least he knew where he was. At the same time, he had no idea where he was . The nearest city could be