Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

Maynard,’ she said softly.
    ‘You’re half right,’ he muttered.
    He had finished telling Rivera everything he knew when Simone came into the dining room carrying a wicker basket covered with a red-checkered napkin.
    ‘Cinnamon buns,’ she said, her expression grave, and he knew that she’d heard how he’d failed her daughter and her grandson. ‘Daphne insisted you take them, so don’t think of saying no.’
    His young assistants, Alec and Alyssa, filed in behind Simone, waiting for direction.
    ‘It’s time to work,’ Clay said, because he didn’t know what else to do.
    Tuesday, December 3, 3.30 P.M.
    Daphne glanced up when Paige slid into the seat across from her at the kitchen table, then resumed reading the top page of the stack in front of her. ‘They’re gone?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘I’m sorry I shouted at you in there,’ Daphne murmured. ‘It was wrong of me.’
    ‘It’s okay. Just give me the white Chanel suit and we’ll be even.’
    ‘It’s yours.’ Daphne sighed. ‘Look, I know Clay didn’t mean this to happen.’
    ‘But Ford’s your son. How could you not have reacted the way you did? We have a big responsibility when we promise people to keep their loved ones safe. Tuzak lied to Clay. Clay can’t change that, but he’ll do what it takes to find Ford.’
    ‘I know he’ll try.’ Daphne sighed. ‘And I’m upset, but I don’t blame him.’ She returned her gaze to the stack of papers in front of her and tapped them. ‘This is my file from the Millhouse case. Grayson made me a copy. The original’s with the Feds.’
    Paige came around the table to sit next to her, her eyes going wide. ‘Wow. You’ve got everything here. I wish Clay had a copy. This would save him a lot of time.’
    ‘He has one,’ she murmured.
    Paige’s eyes widened. ‘How? When? Oh . . . The cinnamon buns. Why the subterfuge?’
    ‘Coppola. They’re marked confidential and she’s a by-the-book girl.’
    ‘Can you get into trouble for giving them to Clay?’
    ‘Probably. If it helps us find Ford, it’ll be worth it. If it doesn’t . . . it won’t matter.’ Squaring her shoulders, she gave a portion of the stack to Paige. ‘I wanted Clay to have a copy so he could help.’
    ‘You know he will.’ Paige began sorting her pile of papers. ‘Reggie, Bill, Cindy, George . . . Huh. You have financials on the whole family. How?’
    ‘We got a tip that Reggie had robbed other motorists and hocked their valuables. I found two pawnbrokers who’d said they’d bought jewelry from him. Since he was only a senior in high school, I convinced a judge that he had to have the help of an adult. I was able to subpoena the entire family’s tax and banking records for the last three years.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘Bill and Cindy’s accounts were okay, but Reggie’s weren’t. I matched his deposits with receipts from local pawn shops. He’d robbed other people, so his self-defense plea didn’t hold water. The testimony of the pawnbrokers turned the trial.’
    ‘There’s a reason we always follow the money,’ Paige said briskly, sorting papers as she spoke. ‘You want me to start reading? Or sort your piles?’
    ‘You sort, I’ll read. We’re looking for anyone who appears in major cash transactions – salary, deposits, personal checks. We can then identify any businesses and property those people might own. They have to hide Ford somewhere and Bill would only trust someone in his circle.’
    ‘What businesses am I looking for?’ Paige asked.
    ‘Start with anything connected to the defense fund Bill started for Reggie. They raised a hell of a lot of cash. Bill made a point of saying he was keeping his hands off the funds, to keep everything on the up-and-up. Somebody’s managing it. Following the money will lead us to Bill’s most trusted associates.’
    ‘Wouldn’t relatives be the most trusted? All the uncles and cousins and aunts?’
    ‘Not necessarily. Bill Millhouse used Reggie’s arrest as a platform to push his own agenda. In the months between the arrest and the trial he drew a very devoted following, preaching that the country’s going to hell in a hand basket because we’ve become so politically correct that we’re weak.’
    ‘I know. I watched him on the talk show circuit. He makes his argument seem almost . . . mainstream when he’s on camera.’
    ‘He’s very savvy. He’s made himself appealing to a disturbingly broad group, challenging “ordinary people to