Page 52 of Midnight Creed

Patrick had shoveled paths for the dogs, but they plowed through the snowdrifts as if they didn’t notice. She sat back and watched them. Jake performed hotdog leaps to bite at the snowflakes. Harvey snuffled his nose in and out of drifts tracking some backyard creature.

It was so quiet she could hear Harvey’s snorts. So quiet she could hear the snow falling.

This place had become her sanctuary. Her retreat from the evils of the world that she dealt with on a regular basis. This was where she could breathe...and think...and relax.

“The pizza has arrived!” Patrick announced as he came out the back door. He brought out a tray with plates already filled: slices of gooey pizza and piles of salad.

She helped him set up everything on a small table between them. He slid two beers out of the snowdrift and popped the tops.

“The decorations out front are amazing,” she told him, and he grinned back.

They shared their adventures for the week. She told him about the killer stalking homeless victims. Patrick told her about a tragic house fire that had left a family with nothing. But he and another firefighter had managed to find and rescue the family’s cat and golden retriever.

“The cat was freaked out, and the dog wouldn’t leave the cat,” he told her. “Fortunately, it’s pretty difficult to scratch through our jackets and gloves. And face shields.”

Maggie had barely taken a bite of pizza when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She had to unzip her coat to pull it out. She didn’t recognize the number.

“Sorry, I have to get this.”

He waved “no problem” while devouring half a slice.

“This is Maggie O’Dell.”

“He’s on the prowl again.”

“Who is this?”

“Your snitch,” came a whisper.

“Nessie?”

“I trailed him.” She was still trying to whisper, but her excitement made it a stuttered attempt. “All the way from the YMCA. He probably changes his clothes there. Tries to make himself look like one of us.”

“Nessie, listen. You shouldn’t be following anyone. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, I know how to blend in.”

Maggie tried to think of what she could say to the woman to stop her. She should have never encouraged her. This was crazy. Maybe Nessie was, too. Racine tried to warn her about the homeless. That they lie. And some don’t recognize the lies as untruths. Now the woman was out on the streets of D.C., following a man from the YMCA.

“Nessie, I know you’re trying to help, but what makes you think this man is a killer?”

“Well, he sure as hell doesn’t look like a carpenter in that long black coat.”

“A carpenter?”

“Danny was hit on the head. I heard Carlo was, too. I saw this guy come out of the YMCA looking all shabby.”

“Nessie—”

“Didn’t think anybody was watching him. Saw him stuff a hammer into his pocket.”

“Wait a minute. A hammer? Are you sure?”

“Nothing wrong with my eyesight. He walks funny, too. Like he’s not comfortable in those big, long shoes.”

“Where are you? Right now.”

“You remember the coffee shop? God, that pastry just melts in your mouth. It’s like biting into a cloud.”