Page 35 of Midnight Creed

“That’s the other thing. He wants no dogs on his property.”

“He said that?”

“He said that.”

He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head to meet her eyes. Her face softened, and she leaned forward. “Look, this isn’t worth your dogs getting hurt. I’ll follow up on this. If he’s not in school Monday, they’ll have some explaining to do.”

She pursed her lips and stopped herself from looking back over her shoulder. Her cell phone rang, and she snatched it from her pocket to look at the caller I.D.

“Hang on a minute,” she told Creed. She took the call, saying very little, mostly listening. “Okay then,” she finally said. “Thanks for being so quick.”

She slipped the phone away and glanced in the back window of the Jeep. Then to Creed she said, “You brought Grace and Scout. I’ve got you all scheduled. I know you were prepared to do a missing person search. Is it difficult to switch up?”

His first reaction was to tell her, “Yes. It would be too difficult.” He had already gone through all sorts of arguments with himself this morning before deciding this search—a neighborhood search for a missing teenager—would be low impact, low risk for Grace.

“Depends,” he finally said. “What are we talking about, Sheriff?”

“That bone Bolo alerted to yesterday. Chipped and chewed up a bit, but it turns out it is human. A left tibia.”

24

Quantico, Virginia

Maggie chose the empty cafeteria to meet with her team. She was early, commandeering her favorite table next to the window overlooking the woods. Snow covered the trees. It was still lightly falling. She missed running the trails, although she’d brought her gear.

Wishful thinking. No way she could plow through. Not being able to run out in the fresh air was almost as bad as being down underground.

There would be no competition for the table. The place was empty. Classes were finished for the year. Many of the agents scheduled time off for the holidays.

The holidays. Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Years.

None of them held much meaning for Maggie. Her father died when she was twelve. Her short marriage created no holiday traditions. Even when her mother experienced periods of sobriety, Maggie still avoided her. Her half-brother Patrick had only recently come into her life, but as a first responder, he usually worked through the holidays or was on call.

Gwen and Tully, her dogs Harvey and Jake. They were her family. And now Ryder.

She smiled at the memory of his face when she suggested that she come down and spend Christmas with him. He had tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but his eyes said otherwise. Despite the life and death situations they had been through together, they were still sorting out this new level of their relationship. Which seemed a bit silly. They had already become close friends. Long ago, Hannah had welcomed Maggie as though she were a part of their family. Brodie and Jason and all the dogs... She knew she would fit in.

And yet, she tried not to look too forward to the trip. Like so much of her life, any time she’d let her guard down and cared about someone, it usually resulted in disappointment. Sometimes betrayal. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, Ryder was right. It was a big deal.

Gwen claimed Maggie sabotaged relationships just to avoid getting hurt. “You do that often enough,” Gwen told her, “And you miss out on a whole lot of happiness.”

To which Maggie replied, “I think happiness is overrated.”

“Says the woman who has only dabbled in the concept.”

She watched out the window as she waited for the others. Recently, she started bringing her work up here where she could breathe. Her cramped office triggered her claustrophobia. Not because it was small, but because it was down underground—too many stories—she didn’t want to count. Even getting on the elevator made her break out in a sweat.

She couldn’t admit it. Wouldn’t admit it. If she did, they’d send her to see the bureau psychologist. It was the way they dealt with vulnerabilities around here.

When the new director asked her to take this assignment, and he agreed to let her build her own team, he’d also offered her a larger office. But the office he referenced was still down underground in the Behavioral Science Unit. Eventually, she’d need to figure out a way to ask for an office somewhere else on campus.

Agent Antonio Alonzo was the first to arrive. He wore an orange oxford button-down, neatly tucked into black trousers. His shiny leather shoes obviously hadn’t touched the slush outside. His eyeglass frames matched his shirt, and he brought his own designer coffee.

Alonzo was a cyber-wizard. Maggie was anxious to hear what, if anything, he’d learned in the short amount of time. He grinned when he saw her and took the seat closest to her right.

“You have a habit of giving me less and less to work with,” he laughed.

“It’s D.C. I thought there were cameras on every street corner.”