Breaking Creed

34

Creed was glad to have Jason along, no matter if the kid had a chip on his shoulder and insisted on being incredibly antisocial. It gave him an excuse not to talk to Maggie O’Dell about anything other than this assignment.

He had already explained the process to Sheriff Holt. He and his deputy appeared relieved that they’d have to stay behind. Creed preferred as few people as possible. They only provided more distractions for his dogs. In this case there was no urgency. It wasn’t like they were searching for a missing child or an injured victim. As best as Hannah had explained, they weren’t even looking for a body. Only the crime scene.

Before he noticed her daypack, Creed knew O’Dell would insist on going along. He knew he’d never convince her to stay put with Holt and his deputy. But he also knew she would respect his guidelines. She wouldn’t be a distraction for Grace. She would be a distraction for him. And he hated that that was true.

There was one rule he never broke, and he took pride in the fact that he did not mix business with pleasure. Many of the women he knew intimately didn’t even know what he did for a living. Maggie O’Dell was the only woman who had made him come close to breaking that rule. That she didn’t even bother to notice only made him a bit crazier.

They had worked a case together four months ago. Both their lives had been jeopardized. Things got a little heated — some sparks, electricity, not unlike right now. But it was only one kiss. No big deal. He hadn’t heard from her since, but then she hadn’t heard from him either. So why did it bother him?

“Tell me what exactly we’re looking for.” He cut to the chase.

“I’m not sure.”

“Holt said something about a crime scene, but that the victim was recovered somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else being the Potomac River.”

“D.C.?”

“Yes.”

He watched her glance over her shoulder and couldn’t help thinking it was just like the feds, holding back information from the local law enforcement. Not necessarily a bad idea. There was a reason for the practice, but as far as Creed knew, Sheriff Jackson Holt did a decent job of following the rules and keeping his mouth shut. But Creed wasn’t here to defend anyone. He usually tried his best to stay far from the fray.

“You pulled him from the river?” he asked when it didn’t look like she was going to offer more.

“Yes, but the medical examiner doesn’t believe he died anywhere close to the District.”

Another glance, this time at Jason.

“We don’t need to know all the details,” Creed told her. “But I do need to know what you expect Grace to find. Or at least, what you’re hoping she might find.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t even know what to look for.”

There was more hesitation but not out of secrecy. She really did look like she did not know.

“There were insect bites,” she continued, “all over the back of the body. Red blisters. Pustules. The ME said they contained a toxic alkaloid venom called solenopsin. Supposedly it’s the same stuff fire ants inject.”

Creed saw Jason wince and shake his head as he asked, “Someone killed this guy by putting fire ants all over him?”

“More likely they tied him down. There were ligature marks on his wrists and ankles.”

“Son of a bitch.” Jason shook his head.

“And you think they did this to him somewhere close by?” Creed asked.

“This is his property. Well, his and his wife’s.”

“And what does she have to say about all this?”

“Looks like she may have left in a hurry. Sheriff Holt’s been trying to locate her. Their Land Rover’s missing. He has an APB out on it.”

Creed wiped a sleeve across his forehead and took another look around. Then to O’Dell he said, “Do you know if there’s blood?”

“The way this guy was bitten, it looks like it.”

“Insect bites? That’s all we’ve got? My dogs don’t have miracle noses.”

“The ligatures dug deep enough into the skin that his wrists and ankles most likely did bleed.” She was staring at him now, waiting as if for his assessment.

“How long ago?”

“Excuse me?”

“Does your ME know how long ago this happened?”

Her eyes darted away, and he could tell she knew this whole search was, indeed, a long shot.

“Maybe a week.”

“I can’t make any guarantees.”

“I don’t expect any. Look, I’m not even sure this is the right place.” O’Dell readjusted her ball cap, tucking in strands of hair. Then she put her sunglasses back on before she looked at Creed again. “Truth is, this could be a waste of time, but my gut keeps telling me something happened here. Something bad.”

If this had been the first time Creed was meeting Agent O’Dell, he probably would have wanted to roll his eyes and chalk it up as a wasted trip. But in the other case they’d worked on together he’d seen her instincts prove dead-on.

“This is Jason’s first search. If you don’t mind, we’ll treat it like a training exercise and see what Grace comes up with. But if after an hour she’s not hitting on anything—” He glanced around. “How many acres are we talking about?”

“Almost ten.” Before he could answer, O’Dell saw his skepticism and added, “An hour sounds fair.”

Then she leaned down to pet Grace, and to the dog she said, “It’s so good to see you again, Grace.”