Page 32 of Midnight Creed

“Oh. Sure.”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t see anyone who tripped my suspicion meter.”

“You were right. It was too soon. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“I think it helps to see what he’s seeing.”

“It certainly gives a whole different perspective.”

“Exactly.”

“The woman I met with this morning showed up. I suspected she might. She was the one who mentioned this place.”

“Did she see you?”

“Hard to miss me. I turned around, and she was right in front of me. But she kept my cover.”

Maggie scanned the opposite side of the street, almost expecting to get a glimpse of the woman. Very few people were out. The snow was falling harder now.

She hoped Nessie was some place warm. And safe.

22

Saturday, December 2

Florida Panhandle

The cell phone ring made Creed jump, startling the dogs that had been asleep around him. Instead of going to his loft after dinner with Hannah, he’d come back down to the kennel. The conversation with Dr. Avelyn had sent his nerves jangling. He couldn’t relax enough to sleep. His jaw remained clamped tight from anger. But being surrounded by the dogs helped.

In the dark he saw the caller’s ID, and already he felt some tension slip away.

“Hey,” he said.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. I was just staring at the ceiling.” Or rather, the rafters three stories up above. He didn’t tell her where “here” was. He doubted she’d be surprised, but he wasn’t sure if she’d think it was as endearing as Hannah did. Especially if she knew how many times he slept down in the kennel on one of the old sofas or on the floor surrounded by dogs instead of his loft apartment.

He pulled himself up enough to readjust the pillow. A dog behind him readjusted, too, shifting its weight and nestling into the crook of his neck. Creed’s legs were anchored down with dog heads and one hind end that hung over his ankles.

He glanced at his wristwatch. In the stream of moonlight coming through the top windows, he saw it was after two in the morning. Creed didn’t ask why Maggie was still awake. He knew she rarely slept, let alone slept well.

“Crazy new case won’t let my mind shut down,” she finally said. “How was the rest of your day? You and Bolo were in the woods.”

“We were tracking a missing teenage boy.”

“Did you find him?”

“Only his jacket.” He scratched at his jaw. There was still something odd about that. Why would a teenager go down into the woods, leave his jacket and go back up the exact way? “Bolo lost the kid’s scent after the jacket.”

“That doesn’t sound like Bolo. Are we talking about a runaway, or is it possible he was taken against his will?”

“Differing opinions on both counts. Either way, we didn’t find him. What new case is driving you crazy?”

“Couple of homeless guys have been murdered. Right on the streets. In the middle of the night. No one claims to have seen a thing.”

“Doesn’t D.C. have a bunch of cameras?”

“I’m hoping. Problem is nobody seems to care too much. It’s like they’re throwaways. Disposable. Reminds me too much of sex trafficking victims. No one ever seems to see those women...girls...and boys.”