Silent Creed (Ryder Creed #2)

O’Dell expected to leave Ben a message. She was surprised when he answered on the third ring.

“Maggie, are you okay? I just saw the newest weather forecast and was thinking about you.”

“Look, Ben, if you’re holding back any information about these bodies, now would be a good time to tell me.”

She was up to her ankles in mud, and the damp fog had changed to a cold drizzle. If she wanted the latest weather report she wouldn’t have been calling him. Yes, she was a bit impatient with him. Okay, maybe a little angry, too.

“I told you what I know. What’s going on?”

“One body is literally stuck in the mud. The other is buried underneath what now looks like rapids. This is not a ‘go down and check it out’ situation.” She let that sink in before she added, “And I think you already knew that.”

Silence. Was he irritated about her accusation or feeling guilty that he’d sent her down without telling her what was going on?

“I’ll see what I can find out,” he finally said. Before she could get irritated with that response, he added, “Are you okay?” The tone was sincere and genuine, a concerned friend.

“I don’t like to be left in the dark, Ben.” She took her anger down a notch, but she knew there was still an edge to her voice.

“Understood.”

“And why isn’t Logan down here?”

“He isn’t there with you?” This time he couldn’t disguise his surprise.

“I haven’t seen him and I’m at the site.”

Silence again. Enough this time that she pulled her phone away from her ear to see if she still had bars for reception. One. Maybe she’d lost him. She put the phone back in place and waited.

“Let me see what I can find out. I’m sure Logan must have gotten held up somewhere. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

She almost pushed END when she heard him say, “Maggie.”

She brought the phone back up and suddenly found herself holding her breath. “Yes?”

“Be safe, okay?”

That was it? Why did she think it would be something else? Something like “I love you”?

“Okay,” she answered, rolling her eyes for no one other than herself, thinking “Okay” was as lame as “Be safe.” What the hell was wrong with them? Were they both so gun-shy, so emotionally battered that neither of them could stand to bare their souls?

She pocketed the phone, jamming it deep, as if that would mean something. When she looked up she noticed that Jason and Bolo had wandered almost a hundred feet away to search the area alongside the floodwaters. Jason was staring at the ground. The big dog’s tail was swishing back and forth in a rapid motion.

They found something!

O’Dell started walking toward them, dread filling her empty stomach. Ross noticed. He spun around to see what had her attention. Then he said something to his partner and left the tent. He trekked uphill, a diagonal line to O’Dell.

Jason’s eyes darted up and found hers. He yanked at his jacket pocket, suddenly desperate to get Bolo’s rope toy free. The dogs expected and needed to be rewarded. She’d seen Creed do it as soon as he knew it wasn’t a false alert. From the look on Jason’s face, this was definitely not a false alert. But even as she approached she still couldn’t figure out what the object was.

Jason tossed the toy to Bolo and he caught it, prancing off, proud and pleased. O’Dell and Ross arrived at the same time. Both stopped within three feet of Jason and both stared at the ground.

There was a snarl of twigs and wet leaves. O’Dell anticipated another partially buried body. Something comparable to the one under the protection of the tent—face half stuck in the mud. But this was already unearthed except for the twigs and leaves.

The hand was severed just above the wrist and the fingers were still balled up in a fist. It almost looked like its owner had grabbed hold of something and had been wrenched away. Maybe washed away.

She glanced at Jason. The color had drained from his face but his eyes were intense and focused. She remembered his empty sleeve, and suddenly she felt a rush of heat crawl up her neck.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“I’ve seen worse,” he assured her, and stared down Ross when the guardsman noticed the connection.

She wouldn’t insult him with any more attention. Instead she said, “Are those teeth marks?” She squatted down for a better look. Both men joined her, though more slowly and apprehensively than O’Dell. Already she was yanking out her cell phone and taking several photos.

“Coyotes run in pretty much every county in North Carolina,” Ross said.

O’Dell slipped her phone back in her pocket and pulled out a fresh pair of latex gloves from another pocket of her windbreaker.

“That’s probably what this is, right?” With a protected index finger she poked at the puncture marks on the back of the hand. They looked very much like impressions made by an animal’s teeth.