The Handkerchief on the Bus
A cold rain had started by the time we reached the docks.
A woman officer taped a small transmitter under the collar of my coat.
And as I went to my car, a shape came off the estate porch — Deirdre, ashen, her eyes red, who had been listening to the police radios crackle near the property.
“Did he take Cody?” she whispered.
I could not soften it.
“The police have Cody.
He’s safe.
Dax doesn’t know that yet.” She pressed a hand to her chest as if to hold her heart together.