Page 67 of Midnight Creed

“Could be tossing something.”

“Like a weapon. I’m locking in the coordinates.”

Finished, Maggie headed back in the direction Gregory had gone. She overshot the intersection just as Alonzo told her the Mercedes had turned around and was on the move again. She slowed down but kept driving into the dark. On her own monitor, she watched the car icon take a right at the intersection. She was turning around by the time Alonzo announced that Gregory was back on the I-10. He was still headed west. So this detour wasn’t his destination.

It took less than ten minutes for Maggie to travel down the gravel road and find the bridge, an ancient structure with steel railings stretching over the top. It was only about fifty feet long. The headlights gave a glimpse of the stream below, more marshland than water.

As she left the SUV, she knew the addition of her flashlight wouldn’t be much help. Vines and brush grew thick all the way down the ledge to the water.

“He picked a great place to toss a weapon,” she told Alonzo.

“Lots of water?”

“Loads of ground cover. Very swampy. Looks like a great place for alligators.”

“Oh crap! I didn’t think of that.”

“Maybe Peter Gregory did.”

“You definitely shouldn’t be tromping around there in the dark. I can get someone to check in the daylight.”

Maggie ignored him. The foliage looked freshly pushed down. Leaves had been dragged along. Shrub branches broken. The path led all the way down.

“You’re right. Alligators can be found in any body of water.” Alonzo kept talking. Now it sounded like he was reading from something he’d found on-line. “Swamps, ponds, ditches, creeks, rivers. Wow! Even storm drains.”

“Not helpful, Antonio.”

The flashlight flicked across something blue. Bright blue. She shot the stream of light across the surrounding vegetation, looking for the reflection of eyes and listening for movement.

Alonzo was still telling her about alligators in her ear.

“Stop! Okay? Just stay quiet,” she told him. “Give me a few minutes.”

“You’re not going—”

“Quiet.”

She glanced up to see how far she’d already gone down. The ledge wasn’t steep, but it was slick with dew. Tucked into the shrubs and almost underneath the bridge was a blue bag. An oversized duffle or golf bag. The metal zipper glinted against the light.

She set her flashlight on the ground, leveling it against a sapling, so it didn’t roll. Then she grabbed onto a piece of rebar sticking out from the bridge’s underpinnings. She stretched and grabbed a corner of the bag but couldn’t lift it up. It was too heavy.

Before she pulled herself back up, she caught the zipper and easily yanked it down. The smell jolted her. The glimpse inside almost made her lose her grip. She didn’t need her flashlight to confirm what was inside.

Back up on the road, she waited for her pulse to slow. For her lungs to fill with fresh air.

“Damn it, O’Dell, I can hear your breathing. What’s going on?”

She gulped in a couple more breaths, then said, “You know how Kuszak wanted me to pick up something he discarded?”

“You found the weapon he tossed?”

“Not the weapon. A body. He just dumped a dead body.”

44

Pensacola, Florida

Peter Gregory felt refreshed and energized. Driving over Pensacola Bay with the water shimmering in the moonlight always had this effect on him ever since he was a boy. He kept the driver’s window open a couple of inches just to suck in the cool sea air. Yes, he needed this. And he definitely needed to get away from the snow and cold.