Page 70 of Midnight Creed

“You never talk about it,” Brodie said.

“Afghanistan?”

She nodded. “Why did you go?”

There wasn’t a way to tell her without her suspecting why he needed to escape. It was right after their father had committed suicide. Right after Creed had found him lying on his sofa with a football game blaring in the background. He had told her about it as simply as he could without any graphic description. Her pained expression on her face—a face she’d trained to show very little emotion—had nearly broken his heart. Though she agreed she wasn’t to blame, it was obvious that she did, in fact, blame herself.

“Joining the Marines sounded like an exciting adventure.” That was partially true. He forced himself to meet her eyes to show her that morsel of truth. “I can’t complain. It taught me a lot. How to take care of myself. Becoming a K9 handler saved me in more ways than I can count.”

They both got quiet again. Creed finished his second biscuit. Contemplated a third. As if reading his mind, Brodie went to the refrigerator, pulled out two more, and put them in the microwave.

“You’re worried about the dogs that were left behind.” It wasn’t a question. She looked back at him and didn’t wait for his response. “You never gave up on bringing me home. I’m betting you’ll bring these dogs home, too.”

“You think so?”

“Yup. In case you haven’t heard, I’ve been winning a lot of my bets.”

46

Pensacola, Florida

Maggie had lost almost five hours. There was no comfort in knowing that Peter Gregory’s Mercedes had stopped some place in Pensacola and hadn’t moved since. As Alonzo tried to figure out where, he kept saying it looked like a residential area. New construction.

“Maybe he finally felt safe enough to rest,” Maggie told him, knowing that the Florida Panhandle might not be his final destination.

She wasn’t willing to relinquish Gregory’s trail to anyone else. But she had to hand over the body he’d left behind. For the second time, she had to trust Alonzo’s judgment and bring in Wren Warren and her team. Gregory had brought this body across state lines. He was suspected of multiple murders. She needed someone on the federal level to step in. Someone who would treat this dead body as part of Maggie and her team’s ongoing investigation.

Alonzo assured her that Agent Warren “was solid.” Maggie had to remind herself of his words when Warren showed up on that dirt road. She looked nothing like the self-assured professional Maggie had met at the airport.

Instead, Warren wore a baggy sweatshirt, jeans that were threadbare at the knees and hiking boots. Maggie caught a glimpse of the agent’s eyes under the shadow of her ball cap bill and knew immediately she hadn’t dealt with something like this before.

“CSU team is right behind me,” Warren had told her.

But when Maggie said she couldn’t wait and needed to get back on the interstate, Warren’s eyes widen and flew around the surroundings. The thunderstorms had moved to the north, but the remaining cloud cover added to the complete darkness. The headlights of their vehicles provided the only glimpse of thick foliage and tall pine trees. The symphony of night sounds didn’t help. Maggie couldn’t distinguish between bird calls, frogs, or maybe the hiss and slither of an alligator.

“Will you be all right?” she’d asked, trying not to embarrass the agent.

“No worries.”

Maggie almost regretted her last words to the newbie when she saw they had sent her even more on edge. But the warning was necessary. “Remind your team about alligators.”

That was hours ago. And by the time Maggie took the exit off I-10 and arrived in Pensacola, Alonzo and Kuszak were already getting preliminary details from Warren’s CSU team.

It didn’t squelch Maggie’s anxiety. Nothing seemed to calm it even after she’d eaten one of the deli sandwiches out of her cooler and downed all three cans of Diet Pepsi.

Now, as she followed the last couple of miles, her eyes kept flicking to the GPS monitor. Gregory’s Mercedes had not budged. Her senses were on high alert as she drove along Airport Boulevard.

She tapped her cell phone in the dashboard holder, and Alonzo answered after just two rings.

“You there yet?” he asked.

“Almost. You didn’t mention that he parked the vehicle this close to the airport. How do we know he didn’t take a flight this morning?”

“I checked all last-minute tickets bought, flying out of Pensacola.”

“But he could have booked a flight weeks ago. And we know he uses other aliases.”

Silence.