Page 111 of Midnight Creed

“At the time, there were always men coming to the area for seasonal work. I pulled up the police report. Dora Ramsey used the term. There’s no explanation how she could tell. But here’s something interesting from that police report. One of the boys said he recognized the man. That he had come to their house.”

“So the guy might have been stalking the family?”

“No. He said the man came to their house to fix things. His mother claimed the boy was too traumatized to remember. That he made up stories all the time. He had an overactive imagination.”

“So they didn’t check out the man who fixed things at their home?”

Norwich shrugged. “I haven’t seen any follow-up. Only the note on young Peter’s statement.”

“Wait a minute. You’re thinking the bones Gunner found might be Thomas Gregory?”

Another shrug as they climbed the rest of the way. “I told you. It’s just a hunch I have. Definitely a long shot. But we have Peter’s DNA. I can’t remember what they need to do to get DNA from old bones, but it’s certainly worth checking to see if we’ve finally found Thomas Gregory.”

“You said on the security camera footage Peter accused the Ramseys of something?”

“He said his nightmares had revealed the face of his father’s killer.”

Creed stopped to give her his full attention as he said, “The boy with the overactive imagination who thought he recognized the man even back then.” He knew before she answered.

“He claimed the man who killed his father was Carl Ramsey.”

Creed’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It surprised him. Usually, reception out here was spotty at best.

“Excuse me, Sheriff.”

He fished the phone out, pleased to see Maggie’s name. She’d left on Wednesday, but they had talked late last night. He hoped everything was all right.

“Hey, Maggie.”

“I know you’re out searching in the woods, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. I have an early Christmas present for you.”

Epilogue

Thursday, December 21

Kabul, Afghanistan

Creed watched out the plane’s window as they descended through the dense clouds. The world below came into view, and he felt the knot in his stomach. There was snow in the mountains. The sight should have helped tamp down his memory of the dust. Dust so thick he could still taste it.

A tap on his shoulder, and he turned to find Maggie offering a bottle of water. She had been plying him with water the entire trip, making sure they both stayed hydrated. They’d be spending a ton of hours in the air. He appreciated her effort, but after the tenth hour, it only made him need to pee. He took the bottle anyway and thanked her.

It was hard to take his eyes off the landscape below. This godforsaken country had chewed him up and spit him out, along with so many others sent here to fight. Too many of them returned home like Jason without limbs, others with brain trauma and PTSD. All that they had sacrificed, only to watch the country be turned back over to the madmen they had fought against.

The last four and a half hours from Dubai had been quiet. So quiet it felt like they were all holding their breaths as they got closer. Before that, Dr. Avelyn’s team of veterinarians had kept busy. Creed and Maggie worked alongside them, assembling kennels and attaching them to the floor of the large cargo space. They were expecting to take back with them sixty-six to seventy dogs. And this time, they were told, they would not be disappointed.

This jetliner had been converted during the pandemic in an effort to avoid bankruptcy. When passengers declined flying, the company decided to remove seats and make room for freight that still needed to move from country to country.

About two dozen seats had been left intact as well as the lavatories and the galley, which allowed them to refrigerate and prepare meals. And have a cup of hot coffee. The entire area was still climate controlled, though the vast space made it a bit chilly. Lights could also be turned up or dimmed for reclining passengers to sleep. Electrical capabilities allowed the veterinarians to set up and plug in equipment. They had even arranged an area for triage, if necessary.

They had no idea what shape the dogs were in, and it would be a grueling long flight back with a brief stop in Paris to refuel. But Dr. Avelyn and her team looked prepared. Several were military trained and had served in Afghanistan and Iraq. They had experience working with and treating K9s in the field.

From their attitudes and the way they prepared, Creed was impressed with the whole group. This was a mission they had dedicated themselves to since the fall of Afghanistan. Ever since the very first rumors began of military and working dogs being abandoned. Let out of cages at the airport. Destined to run the dangerous streets and fend for themselves. Dogs that were highly trained, but still dependent on their handlers.

Lately, memories flooded back to Creed. Just when he thought he’d stuffed them safely away where they couldn’t hurt him anymore. Marine K9 units move from one platoon to another where they were needed. The men understood the K9 unit’s importance, but Creed and Rufus were never anywhere long enough for them to get attached. They were the outsiders, respected for their magic, but kept at a distance because the K9 unit was the first out and first to die.

He remembered the exact minute he realized Rufus was alerting to an Afghan boy named Jabar. The boy was someone the platoon trusted and granted access to their camp. As soon as Jabar had reached under his shirt that day, Creed dived on top of Rufus, saving the dog but sending Creed to a military hospital and then home. Later, he didn’t stop until he was able to bring Rufus home, too.

Now the knots twisted in Creed’s stomach as they got closer. As usual, his jaw clenched. His fingers balled up into fists. He realized he desperately needed a distraction. He shifted in his seat, so he could keep his eyes out the window but glance at Maggie.