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.