Vanished - A Mystery (Dixon & Baudin Book 1) by Victor Methos Page B

no answer for a moment. “I love you, too.”
    When he was done showering and dressing, Dixon went to his son. He picked him up and tickled his belly, which always made him smile. He played with him for twenty minutes until it was breakfast time, and then he brought the boy out and put him in a high chair at the table.
    “What do you two have planned for today?” he said, sitting down as she shoveled eggs and bacon onto his plate.
    “We’re going with Kelsey to the mall and then lunch.”
    He took a bite of eggs then rose and retrieved the Tabasco from the fridge. “I’ll probably be late for dinner. Wanna catch up on some stuff so I don’t have to go in tomorrow.”
    “Okay. I’ll keep a plate hot for you.”
    She brought him orange juice, and he took her hand, staring up at her eyes. Kissing the soft skin of her fingers, he let go, and she slipped away. He didn’t know much about women, but something was wrong. For the past few months, Hillary had been making intimations that perhaps it was time for another child, but she’d stopped in recent weeks. Dixon didn’t understand it, but women somehow intuitively knew when their biological clocks were ticking down. The window of having more kids, for her, was closing.
    His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out. “Hello?”
    “Hey, it’s Ethan. You at the precinct?”
    “Not yet.”
    “We still partners?”
    “I’m eating breakfast with my family right now. Can this wait?”
    “When you’re done, meet me at the coroner’s office. He’s got the preliminary ready for us.”
    Dixon hung up and stared at the phone. Then he slipped it back into his pocket. It hadn’t been a request. Baudin had just told him where to be as though he were his boss. Maybe he’d be better off alone again after all.
    “Who was that?” Hillary asked.
    “New partner,” he said, rising and kissing his boy on the cheek. “Gotta run.” He grabbed a piece of toast out of the toaster, kissed her quickly on the lips, and was out the door.
     
     
    The coroner’s office was next to the county fairgrounds with nothing else but a few government buildings nearby. As Dixon drove, he again got that feeling of being on a different planet. He wondered if somewhere out in the universe, another creature was looking at a deserted stretch of nothing on its own planet with the same feeling.
    He pulled up to the government complex and saw Baudin sitting on the trunk of his car, doing something on his cell phone. He wore a red shirt with a black tie today, looking like some sinister preacher. Dixon got out of the car and scanned the area.
    “They should develop this land,” he said, a cloud of dust swirling over him.
    “Why? The world need more strip malls and movie theaters?”
    “Be better than dirt.”
    Baudin hopped off the trunk, and they entered the building. The doors were open, but there was no receptionist at the front counter. Down a long linoleum corridor, the sound of clanging metal echoed, as though someone were moving pots and pans around. They headed in that direction.
    In a room off to the side, a man was stocking pans and trays on a shelf. He saw them and his eyes went wide. “Who are you?” he said.
    “Detective Kyle Dixon. Gil here?”
    “Oh,” he said, relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s down in his office.”
    “Thanks.”
    Baudin followed him. Dixon had been to the office several times. It was, in his estimation, the worst office he’d ever been in. Tucked away in a corner with no windows, Gil was a hoarder. He didn’t call it that himself, but that was what it was. No paper with even a hint of importance was ever thrown away. No files were shredded. It meant his office was stacked from floor to ceiling with papers, trinkets, boxes and folders.
    “That man’s a junkie,” Baudin said. “We need to remember that if we ever need something Gil’s not giving us.”
    Dixon looked back at him. “How you know he’s a junkie?”
    “He had that droopy appearance,