Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

felt Maggie’s hand rubbing her back. She forced the words from her brain to her mouth, remembering too keenly how she hadn’t been able to speak that day or any of the days that followed.
    She’d come home that horrible day . . . mute. For months. She’d hadn’t lost her voice. She’d lost her words . They’d fled. Whatever pathways connected the verbal area of her brain to her mouth . . . they’d snapped.
    No matter how hard she’d tried or how much her father begged, pleaded, cajoled, even threatened . . . she could do little more than stare up at him, desperate to do the right thing. I’m sorry, Daddy . I never wanted that to happen to you . To Mama . To me .
    She was no longer eight years old, but the fear had never gone away. Now, at thirty-five she felt the words slow, start to recede. No . Not again . She concentrated, inhaled the scent of Scott’s jacket. Shoved the words free.
    ‘Me too,’ she said on an exhale. ‘I . . . disappeared, too.’ She swallowed hard, aware of every eye watching her. ‘I was just remembering the night the sheriff brought me home. Everyone was sitting there waiting, just like tonight. It was a life-defining moment.’
    Hector was watching her closely. ‘What happened to her? Your cousin?’
    ‘She was found, later.’
    Hector’s brows lifted. ‘Alive?’
    ‘No.’ Daphne swallowed, her mouth dry as sandpaper. Scott put a cup of tea in front of her and she sipped at it gratefully. Hector was waiting, his head tilted, and Daphne sighed. ‘My cousin’s body was found in some woods in Ohio, about a week after I came home. She was seventeen.’
    ‘And the perpetrator?’
    ‘Never caught. It was just . . . one of those times when the bad guy didn’t pay.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Hector said sympathetically, but his eyes were sharp. Watchful.
    ‘It was a long time ago,’ Daphne said.
    ‘It was yesterday,’ her mother murmured. ‘Any word on where Ford could be?’
    ‘No,’ Daphne said. ‘But good people are looking.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘And we’re going to believe he’s all right.’
    ‘Of course we are,’ her mother said. ‘It’s all we can do. That, and wait.’ She met Daphne’s eyes, hers a steely determined blue. ‘We’ve been through hard times and we survived. Ford is your son. He’ll survive and he will come home to you.’
    ‘I believe,’ Daphne murmured. And I’ll continue to take one breath at a time .

Chapter Seven
    Tuesday, December 3, 2.20 P.M.
    J oseph’s debriefing and strategy meeting between VCET and BPD was set to begin in ten minutes. Walking from the parking garage to the conference room, he checked his email on his phone. One message stood out, the subject header in all caps: READ ME ASAP.
    It was from his father. Damn . His father had been waiting for him to call back. He must be worried . Hell, his whole family would be. Joseph didn’t normally check in after a close call on the job, but then his close calls had never been on TV before. Ruby’s words came back to him in a mocking rush. I’m an Internet sensation . God .
    Waiting for the elevator, he read the email. Joseph, please call your mother . She and Judy were watching the news live when the bullets started flying . She needs to hear your voice . Plus, it seems we have houseguests that you didn’t tell us were coming .
    Joseph winced. He’d asked Bo to send officers to watch over his family but he’d forgotten to tell his parents about it.
    He dialed home and his mother answered on the first ring. ‘Hi, Mom.’
    ‘Joseph.’ His name came out on a little rush of air. She’d been holding her breath.
    ‘I’m fine,’ he said mildly. ‘I didn’t want you to worry.’
    ‘I wasn’t worried,’ she said archly.
    ‘Yes, she was!’ a woman chimed in. It was Judy, Grayson’s mother, on another phone extension. Joseph and Grayson shared no blood, but Joseph had considered them brothers since the day Grayson and Judy had come to live with them, close to thirty years ago.
    ‘Are you all right, son?’ his father asked, having picked up yet another extension of the landline at the house. ‘We saw it live.’
    ‘I’m fine,’ he assured them. ‘I was lucky. It could have been much worse.’
    ‘I wouldn’t call it luck, Joseph,’ Judy said. ‘That was skill. I was very impressed with you – after my heart started beating again, that is. It stopped when Grayson and that . . . killer were pointing guns at each