three remaining chocolate chip cookies, felt how tight her pants were, and moved the paper plate away. She said, “She asked me how I was feeling several times. She’s trying very hard.”
Ruth Noble said, “I wish I knew what to say to her. I babble about Dix and the boys and this and that case, and she tries to look involved, but I know she has no clue who or what I’m talking about.”
Her cell buzzed. “Agent Noble. Who? Dougie? What’s going on?” A moment, then, “I’ll be right there.”
She stood, looked at her watch. “I hate to interrupt them, but this is about Sherlock’s accident and the missing analyst. I need them now.”
52
* * *
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
WAREHOUSE DISTRICT
FRIDAY, EARLY AFTERNOON
Savich, Sherlock, and Ruth stood over a sleeping Justice Cummings. Dougie sat cross-legged beside him. Sally was leaning against a rotted wall nearby, rubbing dirt off her elbow, her long flowered skirt covering her legs, and Major Hummer was behind them.
Dougie looked up and gave Ruth a sweet smile, fitted his towel closer around his head. “Ruth, I’m real glad you came so fast. I didn’t force Justice to see you, I swear. He said you could come. But I don’t know about these two. Who are they? Do you know them?”
Ruth came down on her haunches beside him. “I trust them completely, Dougie. This is my boss, Agent Savich, and Agent Sherlock. They’re both very smart and very kind and they want to help. Agent Savich, Agent Sherlock, these are Dougie, Sally, and Major Hummer, friends of mine.”
Dougie gave Savich and Sherlock a suspicious look, then looked toward Hummer, who slowly nodded. Then Dougie stared up at Sherlock. “Pretty hair,” he said. “Not really red as fire, but a different sort of red. I think my daughter had red hair like yours, but I’m not sure anymore, it was a long time ago, you know?”
“Yes, I know.” Sherlock went down on her knees next to Dougie, handed him her creds, watched him look at them a moment. Did he see well enough to read? Then he took Savich’s creds, gave them a longer, harder look. “Looks real official, both of ’em, but it’s what Ruth thinks that matters and Ruth says you’re okay.” He handed back their creds. “Like I told you, I wouldn’t ever have called Ruth unless Justice said I could. That wouldn’t be right. He’s a good kid, Justice is, but he’s a mess, doesn’t know what’s going on. He’s hurt, and he’s scared spitless. I told him he could trust you, Ruth, everybody here knows you’re straight, even that day the FBI ran all around our neighborhood to find Manta Ray, carrying guns and wearing those Kevlar things. You made sure none of us got hurt.” He frowned. “Ruth, that wasn’t that long a time ago, was it?”
“Not long ago. You remember it just right.” She patted his arm.
Savich went down on his haunches beside Justice Cummings, pressed his fingers to his wrist, took his pulse. He laid his palm on his forehead. No fever. But he looked a mess, his nose obviously broken, stuffed with Kleenex. His shirt was torn and bloody. A surprisingly clean blanket was pulled up to his waist. Savich lifted the blanket and looked at the paper towels wrapped around a wound on his leg, hoping there was sterile gauze under them. He looked up at Major Hummer in his army fatigues and black boots up to his calves. “What can you report, Major? How bad is it?”
Hummer came smartly to attention, cleared his throat. “The boy made it here, I don’t know how, showed lots of grit. He deserves one of my Purple Hearts.” He paused briefly, a sort of mental reboot, Savich thought. “It was Tuesday afternoon, around six o’clock, I believe. I remember I was hungry. I found him huddled in on himself, pressed against that far wall, just inside the door, near to where Sally’s sitting. He was in a lot of pain. I called Dougie and we peeled off his pants. I saw the cut wasn’t too bad, could do without stitches, but I was worried about infection. I bought some butterfly strips and bandages from Elmwood Pharmacy over on Gleason Street and some antibacterial cream, the kind you get over the counter. Fixed him up. He’d be awake now, but Dougie encouraged him to drink some of his Wild Turkey because the aspirin wasn’t doing the job. The Wild Turkey sure did the job, knocked