Page 51 of Midnight Creed

“That picture the sheriff had of a young boy all cleaned up, hair combed neat. No bruises. But yeah, I think it might have been him.”

“I’ll need to tell the sheriff. You know that, right?”

Sully nodded. They stood there under a lamppost in the parking lot. Then he gestured at Creed’s rolled up sleeves and said, “So you own a tux?”

“No, it’s a rental.”

But now, in the light, he saw what Sully had noticed. Blood stained the cuff of his sleeve. A seam had ripped open on the trousers. Somewhere he’d lost the cummerbund.

“I think you might own that one,” Sully told him.

“Yeah, I bet you’re right.”

This time, they both laughed.

Creed was sure Hannah would not be amused. Nor would Maggie if he still had bruises when she arrived for Christmas. But for right now, he and Sully deserved a couple of Waffle House’s All-Star Specials. And Gunner could have whatever she wanted.

34

Newburgh Heights, Virginia

Maggie turned the corner into her cul-de-sac and saw lights blazing at the end. For a second, her heart skipped a few beats. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d come home to find her house on fire. Tonight, thankfully, it was simply electricity. Her brother, Patrick had decorated the front of the house and the front yard with Christmas lights.

She checked her watch. He had texted her about thirty minutes ago, saying he was picking up pizza. It was one of the few nights they were both home for dinner. He hadn’t mentioned the decorations. Just that he had a surprise.

Another ping came over her phone as she pulled into the garage.

Beer’s already in the drift.

She smiled. Despite the cold, both of them still enjoyed sitting out on the back patio watching the dogs play in the snow. After she’d gotten back from the Nebraska blizzard, she’d added an outdoor propane heater to ward off the chill. However, Patrick, having grown up in the cold, snowy Midwest, utilized the refrigerator temps and started shoving bottles of beer into a snowdrift that ran alongside the retaining wall. It made a nifty ice bucket.

She unlocked all the security locks and paused the alarm system as she entered the house. As soon as she walked into the entrance, she could smell the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon. Her boys greeted her. Harvey looked like he had been asleep. Jake could hardly stand waiting for her to go through her lockup ritual. His entire back end wagged, his long tail a battering ram against the wall. She bent down for a lick-kiss on her cheeks.

“Looks like you guys had some excitement today.”

From the entrance, she could see the fresh-cut Christmas tree in the living room. It almost reached the nine-foot ceiling. As she made her way through the kitchen to the back door, she saw Patrick’s note on the counter.

We’re decorating that tree tomorrow.

No excuses.

His enthusiasm made her smile.

She rarely bothered getting a tree and had never decorated the outside of the house. Both of them worked such crazy hours, it seemed like a waste of time. But again, Patrick had grown up with tinsel and baubles and lights attached to every eave of the house.

Their childhoods had been so different. Biologically, they shared a father who Patrick had never met and who Maggie could never forget. He died when Maggie was twelve; a firefighter running into a burning house and not making it back out. That his son wanted to do the same thing did not sit well with her.

They had only found out about each other recently, and there were too many missed years to make up. Maggie had bought this two-story brick Tudor on a wooded acre in a quiet, private neighborhood. It was her sanctuary. She had been able to buy it with money her father had left for her in a trust. It made sense that she shared it with Patrick. And although he refused co-ownership, he accepted her offer to be roommates.

She still felt a pang of guilt for leaving him during Christmas. Even if he did have to work, usually he’d come home to the dogs. Maggie was taking both of them with her this time. She couldn’t imagine spending the holiday without them. They were her one constant in her life. She already spent too much time away from them on assignments that took her across the country.

Patrick assured her it was okay. He’d accepted an invitation from a couple of co-workers. And they had agreed they’d celebrate New Year’s Eve together, enjoy a feast, exchange gifts, and binge watch college football bowl games.

She checked out the window, eyes darting along the backyard fence line. The landscape lights added ambience but also lit the dark corners enough to see any intruders: wildlife or human. Satisfied, she opened the door and let Harvey and Jake bound out into the snow. She grabbed a coat with a hood from the coatrack in the corner and followed the dogs out.

Fat, wet flakes glistened, falling against the yellow lights. Layers of white weighted down the branches of the huge pine trees that stood like sentries guarding the yards’ borders. She couldn’t see her neighbors on either side, and the back of the property overlooked a natural preserve with a creek running parallel.

They had arranged two patio chairs under the metal awning which protected them from the snow. Maggie had only a dusting to brush off. And close at hand was the drift Patrick had purposely left when he cleared the patio. Purposely left for them to insert their longneck bottled beer. Only the caps peeked out.