Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

the screens on her phone, then froze. ‘Wait. I got a text from Ford this morning.’
    ‘When?’ Hector asked tersely.
    ‘I was in court.’ Hands shaking, she managed to find the message. ‘Here it is. He texted me at 10.04. “Good luck, Mom”.’ She looked up, hope trembling through her. ‘He’s okay. He texted me. This is all a mistake.’
    Not looking hopeful at all, Coppola dialed on her cell phone. ‘I’ll call Agent Carter. He’ll need this information.’
    Anger burned her chest. ‘He texted me, dammit. We can find out where he texted from. We can find him.’
    ‘Joseph, it’s Kate . . . No, no, Ms Montgomery is unharmed. She remembered that her son texted her this morning at—’ She listened, then glanced over her shoulder carefully. ‘Yeah, that’s the time.’
    All the air left her lungs. No . Daphne didn’t realize she’d whimpered it aloud until she heard the sound of her own voice. Her hand lifted to cover her mouth, to keep the other whimpers in, but they escaped, keening sounds of pain.
    That’s me , she thought. That sound is coming from me . The last time she’d heard that sound . . .  I was in a doctor’s office . The doctor had just delivered the bad news, using words like diagnosis and chemotherapy and metastasize but all she’d been able to hear was the keening sound of pain ripping from her throat. I’d rather be back there than here . I’d trade places in a heartbeat . I’d go through it again if it brought Ford back .
    But those kinds of bargains were fruitless. This she knew. Her lungs were working now, hard. Each breath hurt. Hurt .
    Ford, where are you? Where are you?
    Kate looked at Daphne from the corner of her eye. ‘Straight home.’ She hung up. ‘They knew about the text already. They dumped Ford’s cell phone records.’
    There was more she wasn’t saying. ‘Where did he text from?’
    ‘The text was sent from an alley, a few blocks from the courthouse.’
    ‘Is Joseph there now?’ she asked.
    Kate hesitated. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then take me there.’ She met Hector’s eyes in the rear view mirror. ‘Now.’
    ‘Daphne,’ Hector started.
    ‘ Now! ’ Daphne shouted and both agents flinched. She quieted her voice. ‘Or I will get out of this car and hail a cab. Hitchhike if I have to. What’s it going to be?’
    Tuesday, December 3, 1.35 P.M.
    Joseph got out of his car and jogged to the alley where Deacon’s car was parked. Deacon was nowhere to be seen. ‘Novak,’ he called.
    ‘In back of the Dumpster,’ Deacon called back. A few seconds later, he emerged, a backpack dangling limply from a pen, hanging by the shoulder strap. ‘This is all I found.’
    ‘Then let’s have a look,’ Joseph said.
    Deacon unzipped the compartments and took a little whiff. Then coughed. ‘Somebody carried their lunch in this. Whoever that was ate a lot of garlic.’ He looked up, blinking rapidly. ‘That’ll curl the hair on your chest.’
    Joseph waved the pungent odor away, then paused, studying Deacon’s strange eyes as he cleared them of moisture. ‘You’re not wearing contacts, are you?’
    Deacon looked amused. ‘Nope. What I got is what I got.’
    ‘Your eyelashes are white, too. Why?’
    Deacon shrugged again. ‘All my hair is white. Even the ones on my chest.’
    It bothered him, Joseph realized. ‘I’m sorry, Deacon,’ he said. ‘I figured you were pretty impervious. I was wrong.’
    ‘It gets old,’ Deacon confessed.
    ‘The eyes work, though?’ Joseph asked. ‘No vision issues, blind spots that I need to know about? No vulnerabilities in a firefight?’
    ‘No. My vision is at the top of the chart, actually.’ Deacon’s odd eyes took on a thoughtful gleam. ‘You’re worrying about me?’
    ‘Worry isn’t the word I’d use,’ Joseph hedged.
    Deacon grinned. ‘You were worrying about me. You like me, you really like me.’
    Joseph snorted. ‘You’re an ass, Novak.’
    ‘I know. Makes life more interesting. To answer your question, I have no vision defects. It’s all cosmetic. My good vision is unrelated to the color. Dad had great eyes, my mother’s side provided the ice-breaking conversation topic.’
    ‘Well, it’s a damn fine weapon if you ask me,’ Joseph muttered. ‘Catches people off their guard. As well you know.’
    ‘Hell, yeah.’ Deacon opened the backpack. ‘What do we have?’
    Joseph shined his flashlight inside. Reaching in, he brought out a plastic . . . something. ‘What the