Page 6 of Midnight Creed

Bolo had led them to the young guy with the knife, but now his nose worked overtime. He moved tentatively, sniffing the other dog, no longer interested in his initial target. He leaned so close he triggered a growl from Gunner.

“Are we going to have a problem here, Mr. Creed?” Norwich asked.

Creed readied himself, but he didn’t interrupt. He hoped he didn’t need to. A few more sniffs, and Bolo turned back around, then sat at Creed’s feet. He waved his nose toward the bone in Gunner’s mouth. At the same time, he tapped the ground with his paw.

“Mr. Sully, where did your dog find that bone?” Creed asked.

“Somewhere out in the woods. Looks to me like a bear.”

“I don’t think it’s a bear.” Creed looked back at Norwich and gestured to Bolo sitting at his feet. “Bolo doesn’t alert to animal bones.”

He watched her do a double take, looking from the bone to Bolo, then finding Creed’s eyes. She understood.

“So, what exactly is he saying?” the deputy asked. It hadn’t quite registered with him, and he stared at his boss, waiting for an explanation.

Creed answered for her. “Bolo tracks missing people, but he’s also a cadaver dog.”

4

Washington, D.C.

FBI agent Maggie O’Dell turned the corner and immediately felt the cold slap her in the face. More snow was on the way. But there was something else in the air. A disgusting smell rode the wind. People on the street had their scarves pulled up or their hands over their noses. As usual, steam escaped from the grates in the sidewalk, but that wasn’t where the odor was coming from.

She showed her badge to the officer standing guard at the first barrier to the crime scene.

“Is that a sewage leak?” she asked him as she lifted the yellow tape and slipped underneath.

“Dumpster.” He gestured back behind him. “City maintenance dozer plowed into it. Knocked it so hard it tipped over on its side.” He rolled his eyes and added, “Last week, one of them picked up a homeless tent with someone still in it.”

“I heard about that.”

“O’Dell.” Julia Racine waved at her.

The detective already looked perturbed and impatient. And it was only ten in the morning. But that was Racine. Maggie knew much of her abrasive behavior was for show. Even her stance—legs set at shoulders-width, arms crossed—telegraphed her tough-as-nails reputation. She was finishing up with a young man who looked like he was enduring a reprimand. He would have been taller than Racine if his narrow shoulders weren’t slouched up almost to his ears trying to defend himself from the cold and snow.

“Special Agent O’Dell, this is Detective Sheldon,” Racine introduced them.

He nodded at Maggie, then to Racine, he said, “I’ll get that taken care of right away.” And he left in the direction Maggie had just come from.

“Does the Dumpster have anything to do with the crime?” Maggie asked. The smell only seemed to get worse.

“The asshat who dumped it found the body.”

“Asshat?” Maggie raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know. It’s disgusting how much my language has been sanitized. That’s what happens, O’Dell, when you give in and live with someone’s munchkin. You were smart to dump your doctor.”

Racine was referring to Dr. Benjamin Platt, although he and Maggie had never been in an actual relationship. Ben had a daughter once upon a time and wanted someone who wanted to have kids. That wasn’t Maggie. Racine’s significant other had a daughter. Maggie couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but knew she was still in elementary school.

“So, she’s a good influence,” Maggie said.

“She’s a horrible influence.” Racine glanced around before she continued. “You know how hard it already is as a woman to be taken seriously in this job. Now, she has me saying things like ‘rats’ and ‘OMG.’ It’s just not right.”

“I think you’ll survive.”

“I heard there’s a new guy in your life.”

Maggie and Racine weren’t friends. But they’d worked enough cases together over the years, and they had a history. In Racine’s mind, that made her think they were. Maggie, however, preferred to keep her private life private.