Mahoney’s phone rings. He answers it, listens for a few seconds, then says, “On our way.” He clicks off and looks at me. “That was Rizzo. She wants us to come over to the ATF lab in Beltsville. She found something.”
CHAPTER 16
Cross
AFTER DRAKE CANNON LEAVES, Alex and Bree return to their search of Damon’s apartment. Working as a two-person forensics team, they open every drawer, every cupboard, every cabinet. An hour goes by. Then Alex’s phone chimes with a text alert. He checks his screen.
Sorry. In library. Phone was off. Will be there soon.
Alex turns the screen toward Bree. “It’s Melissa.”
“Thank God she’s okay. But why hasn’t she been in touch?”
Two minutes later, a red Kia pulls into the driveway. Melissa Lange steps out, a tall, slim blonde wearing black jeans and a Tar Heels sweatshirt. She has a backpack slung over her shoulder.
Bree looks out the window. “Here she comes.”
“Good,” says Alex. “She’d better be ready to answer some questions.”
Alex and Bree step out of the apartment onto the sidewalk.Melissa rushes up and hugs them both. “Oh, Dr. Cross, Chief Stone, I’m so glad you’re here.Soglad. Has Damon called you? Do you know where he is? I’ve beensoworried.”
Alex tries, and fails, to keep a lid on his frustration. “Melissa, why the hell didn’t you call us? We had to find out Damon was missing from one of his professors!”
Melissa lowers her head. “I didn’t want to get you concerned,” she says softly, looking embarrassed.
As she should,thinks Alex.
“So,” says Bree as they all go into the apartment, “when did you see Damon last?”
“Three mornings ago, when he was heading out to his Health Psychology class. I remember him leaving earlier than usual.” Melissa puts down her backpack. “I was still half asleep, so I didn’t ask too many questions. I think he said something about clearing his head. But then the whole rest of the day, I texted him and phoned him, and he never got back to me.”
“Did he ever show up for class?” Bree asks.
“No,” says Melissa, pushing her hair back. “By that night, I was getting worried. I texted all our friends, but nobody had seen him since the day before.”
“Is Damon in the habit of going off on his own without telling you?” Alex asks next.
Melissa thinks for moment. “Not like this. It’s never been more than overnight. But sometimes he does sink his teeth into something and get so focused that he forgets to eat or come home to change clothes. Still, he always texts to let me know that he’s okay. And then he’ll show up smiling and apologizing and explaining where he’s been.”
“Like where?” Alex asks. “Give us an example.” He points to anarmchair. Melissa sits, but stays perched on the edge of the seat. Alex and Bree take the battered sofa across from her.
Melissa begins. “Have you heard about Daisy Grant, that poor grandmother up in Caldwell? The one who was shot to death when a SWAT team went to the wrong address?”
“Yes,” says Bree. “Damon mentioned it to us.”
“Damon wasobsessedwith that case,” says Melissa. “Outraged. The reports said that Daisy didn’t have any relatives, but Damon didn’t believe it, so he did some digging and found three of her cousins in a little town called Corinth.”
“He did all that on his own?” asks Bree.
Melissa nods. “And he set up a GoFundMe site to help with their travel expenses so that when those cops go on trial, Daisy’s relatives can be sitting there in the front row.”
“Did he tell anybody about it?” asks Bree.
“Just me and a few friends,” says Melissa. “He wasn’t looking for credit. Just said he wanted to do the right thing.”
Alex is proud of his son’s actions but worried about whose attention they might’ve attracted. “What about more recently?” he asks. “Any other social justice projects?”
Melissa shakes her head. “Nothing he told me about.”
