Page 104 of Midnight Creed

“This section doesn’t seem as flat as the rest.” Deputy Trevor poked around the grass where Creed had tossed down a red flag.

Norwich swept her high-powered flashlight along a seam in the sod that buckled up. Creed grabbed the other shovel. He and Trevor started carefully peeling back rolls of sod as the first drops of rain began to fall.

Underneath the grass were chunks and clods instead of smoothed out dirt. As they rolled up another area, they could see a mound begin to emerge. It stretched about six feet by two feet. Not only was the earth disturbed here, but there appeared to be an obvious hump.

Something was buried here.

Both Creed and Deputy Trevor hesitated. Creed glanced over at Grace. She sat calmly, her eyes going back and forth from the mound to Creed’s eyes, almost as if she was telling him it was about time he took a good look.

When he glanced at Norwich, she was watching Grace, too.

“You’ll need to be careful,” she reminded the men.

Creed stood back and let Deputy Trevor gently scrape off bits of dirt with the end of his shovel rather than stick the blade down into the mound. Little by little, something red and brown and orange began to appear. Something sturdier than a piece of fabric. With only a small section revealed, Creed heard Norwich inhale, a long deep breath close to a gasp.

“It’s a rug or a piece of carpeting,” she announced.

Deputy Trevor skimmed the blade over an edge, and a corner flapped open. He stopped and without a word, checked with Norwich. She gestured for him to continue. He wedged the blade under the flap.

The rug sagged open enough for them to see a head of hair.

Norwich released a long, tired and disappointed sigh. She kneeled on the damp grass as she fumbled a pair of latex gloves from her trouser pocket. Gently and slowly, she pulled back the corner of the rug. Then she dropped her hand and shook her head.

Creed recognized the boy, if only from the photograph being shown during his search.

Lightning illuminated the sky, followed by a rumble of thunder, a soft groan reverberating above them. Rain came down harder now, washing the lifeless face of Caleb Monroe.

70

Linden Estates

Santa Rosa County, Florida

Maggie had no idea if Dora Ramsey recognized her. But she was certain the woman was telling her things were not okay in her house. Dora’s eyes darted over her shoulder even before she mentioned that not only had her husband arrived home, but so had her son.

Peter Gregory was in the house. Right now. Dora made it clear she didn’t feel comfortable inviting law enforcement inside or joining them outdoors for questions that could help find her missing grandson.

Confirmation of Maggie’s suspicions came when Dora closed the door. She heard the lock engage, then immediately a whispered click followed as the lock disengaged.

Maggie walked back down the circle driveway to where she’d left the state trooper. Norwich had assigned him to accompany Maggie. She promised other resources. Whatever Maggie might need.

As she briefed Trooper Vargas, she checked her watch. Was Dora serious about the time limit she’d given? Did she expect something to happen?

Maggie was a profiler. A forensic expert. Usually, by the time she arrived, the crime had been committed. Victims were already dead. She tracked and hunted serial killers and sometimes it didn’t end well.

But this?

She had little experience in hostage negotiations. She couldn’t be sure what this was.

Trooper Vargas stood as tall as Maggie. A veteran law enforcement officer, his face wore well-earned lines. His eyes held the intensity of someone who didn’t easily back down.

He began to tell her the options available for a situation like this.

From the street, Maggie couldn’t see beyond the curtains in the front windows. The properties were sprawling. It’d be impossible to approach from any direction and not be seen by one of the security cameras. The other houses in the development were mostly dark.

Some of the law enforcement vehicles had left. Several in the last few minutes. Their sudden exit made Maggie wonder if there had been a break in the missing boy’s case. But nothing had come over the trooper’s radio.

She avoided looking back at the Ramsey’s house.