Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

they have any leads?’
    ‘Not really.’ She closed her eyes, battling new tears. I believe .
    ‘Do you want me to call Travis for you?’
    She opened her eyes, her face heating. ‘No. I called him already.’
    His face darkened. ‘He blamed you, didn’t he? That sonofabitch.’
    ‘It wasn’t anything I couldn’t deal with.’
    He studied her carefully. ‘I can see the headache in your eyes. You should sleep. I’ll see you later.’
    ‘I’ll try.’ She frowned. ‘I can see the anger in your eyes. Promise me you’ll stay away from Travis.’
    He smiled, but it was grim. ‘I promise I won’t hit him.’
    ‘Hal. Please. Don’t make this any worse. I can’t take any more drama from the Elkharts. And you know Nadine’s got a bad heart.’
    ‘She’s actually got a heart?’ he asked dryly. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t cause trouble. I promise.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Get some sleep. Call if you need anything.’
    ‘I will. Thank you.’ When the door closed, Daphne’s shoulders sagged. ‘Just don’t do anything stupid,’ she murmured.
    ‘I take it that he doesn’t care for your ex,’ Agent Coppola said.
    ‘No. Hal ran a tight ship as Travis’s head of security and he respected him as his boss, but he doesn’t care for him as a person. They at least used to be friendly, but something happened between them a bunch of years ago. I don’t know what, but it festered for at least five years. I just hope Hal doesn’t hit him again.’
    ‘He hit his boss?’ Hector asked, surprised.
    ‘Later, when Travis and I were divorcing. I think Hal retired before he hit him. Or maybe during.’ She blinked hard and rubbed her head. ‘I think I will lie down. I do have a headache.’ She paused at the door into the house. ‘I have a big dog. I’ll go first.’
    ‘Dog’s under control,’ Hector said. ‘Your mother put her in your room. Let’s go.’
    Her mother was sitting in semi-darkness in the living room, Maggie by her side. Her mother rose, her face ashen. ‘Baby,’ she whispered.
    Baby . Daphne froze, her heart racing, her lungs contracting, and instantly she was eight years old again. Her mother had been sitting in the dark that day, too, her face smooth and young, but ashen. That living room sofa hadn’t been expensive leather, but cheap fabric. Maggie hadn’t been there. They hadn’t met her yet.
    It had been her father sitting beside her mama. Daddy . Her father’s handsome face had been red, his eyes swollen from crying. I’m so sorry, Daddy .
    Aunt Vivien was sitting in the rocking chair, rocking with a mindless, sightless rhythm. They’d stood together, their expressions a mix of desperate hope and dread as they waited for the sheriff to speak. He’d been a big man, the sheriff. He stared at them, then twisted to look behind him, surprised.
    Daphne had crunched herself into a ball, hiding behind the sheriff’s legs. Like trees. They’d been tall as trees, his legs. ‘What’re you doin’, child? You’re home,’ he’d boomed, then plucked her from the floor, frowning when she screamed, clinging to him.
    It had been chaos. Her mother and father grabbing for her, tears of joy running down their faces. Aunt Vivien demanding hysterically, ‘Where is Kelly? Where is she? Where is my daughter?’
    Still there . Back there . With the cats and the man .
    I’m back . Did you miss me?
    No . Don’t . Don’t think about it . Don’t ever think about it . Don’t remember .
    ‘Daphne. Come back.’
    Daphne sucked in air, filling her lungs again. Her back stung. Somebody hit me . She blinked and Maggie came into focus, an encouraging smile on her face. But her eyes were fearful. Daphne looked over to her mother who stood wringing her hands, then she caught herself searching the room for the oldest of her mother’s sisters. But Aunt Viv was gone. She’d died five years ago.
    And her father? Daddy, I’m so sorry . Wherever you are, I hope you can forgive me . I’m so sorry . Sadness overwhelmed her as Maggie walked her into the kitchen. Daphne was aware of Hector and Coppola sharing puzzled glances behind her. She noted two more agents in her formal dining room, where they’d set up their computers to trace incoming phone calls. She ignored them all for now.
    In the kitchen doorway she stopped. A tall man with silver in his dark hair stood at the stove, where he’d just put a kettle on. ‘Scott,’ she whispered, swallowing back new tears. ‘You came, too.’
    With a