Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

hell?’
    ‘Looks like a shoe horn,’ Deacon said.
    ‘A bit.’ Joseph opened the backpack wider. ‘And a single dollar bill. That’s all.’
    Out on the street a car came to a screeching halt. Doors slammed and arguing voices approached. Joseph stood, the backpack in his hands. Beside him Deacon also rose, his hand on his weapon.
    ‘Where is he?’ a woman demanded, and Joseph sighed.
    ‘Have you met SA Montgomery?’ he asked Deacon.
    ‘No, but I have a feeling I’m about to.’
    ‘Yep.’ Joseph started walking, meeting her as she entered the alley from the street.
    She walked faster when she saw him and for a tiny second he let himself stare. Then he saw her red eyes and knew she’d been crying and abruptly checked his lust. ‘Joseph, he texted me. From here. Ford did.’
    ‘Somebody holding his phone texted you,’ he said gently.
    ‘But why?’ she asked plaintively. ‘Why go to the trouble?’
    ‘I don’t know. All we’ve found so far is this backpack. Do you recognize it?’
    ‘No. What’s in it?’
    Joseph took out the plastic piece and watched her flinch. ‘What? What is it?’
    ‘It’s the same color as the knife Reggie used to stab Deputy Welch,’ she said. ‘Kind of the same shape, too. But that’s not a knife.’
    Deacon took it from Joseph and sniffed it. He made a face. ‘It smells sour. Like unwashed skin. But it’s not a knife. It’s not even sharp.’
    Daphne carefully turned, and began walking away.
    ‘Daphne.’ Joseph grasped her shoulders and made her look at him. Her blue eyes were filled with tears. And devastation. ‘Aw, honey,’ he whispered. ‘You hoped.’
    She blinked, sending tears down her cheeks. ‘How stupid was I?’
    ‘No, no. Not stupid. Never stupid. You’re a mother who loves her son.’
    She dropped her chin to her chest and her shoulders shook as she tried to contain her sobs. ‘Where is my son, Joseph? Where is he? What are they doing to him?’
    He gave the backpack to Deacon and put his arm around her shoulders. ‘Come on. Let’s get you home.’
    She looked up at him, that terrible pain in her eyes. ‘What can I do?’
    ‘For now, believe he’s alive because it’s the only way you’ll be able to breathe.’
    She blinked at him. Then her eyes changed and he knew that she realized that he truly understood. ‘I believe,’ she said firmly.
    ‘That’s my girl. Come on. You have to go home. I have bad guys to catch.’
    She squared her shoulders and walked away, pausing at the edge of the alley to look back at him. ‘Thank you, Joseph.’
    His heart squeezed in his chest. ‘Just doing my job.’ He watched her go, then turned back to Deacon who had avidly witnessed the entire exchange. ‘What?’
    ‘Nothing,’ Deacon said. ‘Who’s got the knife Reggie used in the courtroom?’
    ‘BPD was inside the courtroom processing the stabbing scene when the shooting started outside. All evidence is being taken to their lab and we’ll coordinate who did what when the crime scenes are secure. The head of BPD CSU is Drew Peterson. I’ll have him coordinate with Dr Brodie. I’d like her to examine that knife.’
    There were so many players here, Joseph thought. He needed all of them to hear the same info at the same time. He hated meetings, but he needed to call one.
    Deacon inspected the plastic plate. ‘Bet we can get prints off of this.
    ‘Get it to Latent, then watch for a text from me. I’m calling a debriefing with BPD.’ And after that, he and Grayson would have a chat with the Millhouses.
    Tuesday, December 3, 2.10 P.M.
    I believe . I believe . Her eyes closed, Daphne repeated the two words in her mind again and again as Hector and Agent Coppola drove her home. I believe .
    She pictured herself opening the door and finding Ford on the front porch. Whole. Alive. Smiling at me . And she continued to breathe, just like Joseph had said.
    Joseph . I wonder who was stolen from him? The thought snuck in among the litany of affirmations. He’d said he’d understood better than she knew. Now she knew he’d been telling the truth.
    That the person he’d lost was a woman was only a guess. But Daphne was pretty good at reading people. Unfortunately many of the people she met on the job had lost someone who’d completed them. Spouses and lovers wore a different look from the parents and siblings. It was a stark . . . aloneness. The knowledge that you’d never be the person you were, ever again, because part of you had been