Baltimore 03 - Did You Miss Me?

and nephews come to visit me here,’ she said defensively. ‘I didn’t want drug dealers across the street. And what if they were making meth? They’d blow us all sky high.’
    ‘Understandable concern. So what did you see?’
    ‘Mr Odum and two other men in the basement. They were walking around, pointing at the walls. The next day the window was covered with black paper. I only saw them together that once.’
    ‘Who were the two men with Odum?’
    ‘One was the Millhouse father, Bill. The man I saw that one time was shorter. Top of his head came up to the father’s shoulder. So maybe five-nine? Brown hair, cut short. He was pretty ordinary looking, to be honest. If I hadn’t seen him in Odum’s basement, I never would have given him a second look the second time I saw him.’
    ‘Second time? When was this?’
    ‘Two weeks ago. I stock shelves at my cousin’s drugstore at night on weekends.’ She shrugged. ‘Teacher pay cuts. Anyway, the ordinary guy came in. First I thought he’d come for me, because I’d been peeking in the window, but he ignored me. Went straight to the school supply aisle and picked up two packs of superglue.’
    Joseph frowned. ‘Superglue? Are you sure?’
    ‘Positive. I waited till he got to checkout and watched from the fem-hygiene aisle. Men never go in that aisle. My cousin was working the register and she asked to see his ID. They card for superglue because teens huff it.’
    Joseph stood straighter. ‘Would your cousin remember his name?’
    ‘No, because he wouldn’t give her his ID. At first he was incredulous. He said, “I’m twenty-nine years old. Why are you carding me?” My cousin told him that she’d have to card him if he was seventy, that it was store policy. He opened his wallet like he was going for his ID, then said he didn’t have it. Made a big deal of how stunned he was to see it missing. He tried to wheedle my cousin, told her the glue was for his kid brother’s science project, that they were making model rockets. He had to have it the next day and couldn’t he come back with his ID? Carol was firm because she can get in trouble, especially if he’s undercover, looking for carding violations.’
    ‘What did he do?’
    ‘Left all angry. I wish we’d gotten his name.’
    Joseph felt like kissing her. He’d been helped by busybody neighbors before, but never by one who was so well organized about it. ‘You did very well. Thank you. Would you mind sitting with a police artist? You’ve seen his face.’
    ‘Of course, but I might be able to do one better. Carol has surveillance cameras in the store. Hopefully she still has the tape. Let me go get her information.’
    She’d turned to go when a blast rattled the windows in the Odum house.
    ‘Get down! Everybody down!’ Joseph made sure everyone was okay, then ran back to the house. Ford could be inside. The baby definitely was.
    Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Tuesday, December 3, 6.50 P.M.
    ‘Did you decide where to go first?’ Alec asked. ‘The MacGregors’ or Trooper Gargano’s house to ask about the stolen tasers? Because we’re almost there.’
    When Alec called with the results of the traced AFID tags he’d offered the use of his car to get to Philly – but only if he drove. ‘You’re rattled,’ the kid had said and Clay knew he was right.
    I’m not objective anymore . Having the kid around for perspective might be wise.
    Clay scrubbed his palms over his cheeks as he contemplated his choices – Gargano, the trooper who’d been stolen from, or the MacGregors, whose daughter had set Ford up. ‘I need a shave before I go anywhere.’
    ‘A shower wouldn’t hurt either,’ Alec commented. ‘And a change of clothes. If you get stopped by a cop, you’ll be answering questions about the blood on your pants.’
    His pants were black, so the patches of Stevie’s dried blood didn’t show that much. ‘I’m less worried about that than the fact that I’m still wearing JD’s T-shirt.’ With BPD in huge letters. ‘Never a good idea to talk to a cop when you’re impersonating one.’
    ‘Turn the shirt inside out. If you keep your jacket on, nobody’ll see the seams.’
    ‘That’s not a bad idea,’ Clay muttered.
    ‘Works like a charm for me. Especially the day before laundry day.’
    Clay shot the kid a disgusted look. ‘You’re so lazy that you’d walk around with your shirt inside out rather than do a load of laundry?’
    ‘Oh, like you were Martha Stewart when