by Lynn Bulock
“Wow. That was a lot more information than I expected,” Kyra said. It made a lot of sense, though, and gave her a whole different view of Josh. “I remember you said one time that you had a sister. Older or younger?”
She was pretty sure that she knew the answer to that one but wanted to hear it from him. “Younger,” he says. “Three years younger, which means she was seven when our dad died and I was ten.”
“That kind of explains why you’re better at handling little boys than teenage girls. You just don’t have any experience with them, do you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t. By the time my sister was a teenager I had pretty much left home. We lived with my grandparents by then and I had a scholarship to college that didn’t cover trips home to Iowa.”
“What happened to your mom? Did she remarry?” The question was out before Kyra could check herself.
“She…died.” He was silent for a moment and Kyra felt sorry that she’d asked. Then his eyes flashed with a glint like steel. “I might as well be honest. She killed herself when I was fourteen and my sister was eleven. She couldn’t handle the shame anymore.”
He turned and looked out the window, then started the car and started driving away while Kyra wanted to ask many more questions, but feeling at the same time that she’d already asked way too much.
Josh scanned the screen of his computer again, hoping that he had missed something, that there was a piece of information that he hadn’t found before. The third unidentified girl was still a mystery with no solution. The bones just weren’t yielding their secrets either for Kyra or for him, or any of the other people in the lab.
“Come on, who are you?” he muttered, looking through the faces again. He’d called up virtually every missing girl from twelve to eighteen, in the foster care system or out, and still there was no way to tell who she was. Kyra still couldn’t say for sure what her background was because there were few pieces of the skull or other markers for ethnicity or other identification. There were no broken and healed bones, and the girl’s projected height of five foot four put her squarely at average.
Even with no help in figuring out who she was, Josh still wanted to be the one to discover her identity. He knew that Kyra called her Abigail, the last of the three to still have her real name unknown to them. Surely she had something in common with Serita and Gen. Of course, Gen’s identity wasn’t for sure yet, but Kyra was fairly certain that the DNA tests would verify that the missing young woman was Andre’s mother. Given her experience, Josh was willing to trust her opinion on the matter.
It was disheartening to think that perhaps Abigail might forever remain a Jane Doe. Josh decided to run a narrower search pattern again and see how many possible matches he came up with. Instead of keeping a lot of variables, this time he concentrated on those who had gone missing from foster care from just two counties in a time frame overlapping Serita’s and Gen’s disappearances and eighteen months earlier.
Doing that yielded only six possibilities instead of the fifteen or more he’d had with a broader search. Josh went through the in-depth information on the six, looking for links with the other two. Three of the six had attended the same schools as both known victims. Two had definitely used the same medical clinic as Gen. Several of the six had been housed in the same private homes, group homes or centers as both Gen or Serita, although none at the same time as the two who’d already been identified.
“Any luck? You’ve sure been focused on that,” Kyra said, making him jump slightly in his chair.
“I guess you’re right. I didn’t even hear you come up behind me,” he told her, looking over his shoulder.
She smiled, looking even more youthful than usual. “Good. Maybe I’m learning the technique from you, Josh. I’m usually the one somebody has to scrape off the ceiling because you snuck up on me.”
“Guess you have a point there.” He opened several windows on his computer and pointed to the different pieces of information he’d found regarding some of the missing young women. “Nothing is pointing me in one person’s direction, but I’ve narrowed it to six that have more than one thing in common with Gen or Serita.”
“Hey, that’s a good start. Where do you go from here? Normally I focus on forensics, rather than talking to people, so I have no idea how your end of the investigation works.”
Josh thought she might have been exaggerating a little to make him feel more adept. He decided to put aside his minor doubts and take her at face value. “Now I hit the streets for a day or two and see if I can get any information that isn’t in these profiles. I’ll figure out if we can narrow this list of six down. Some of them may have shown up…one way or another.”
Josh could almost feel Kyra’s flash of pain when she took in his meaning. “I hope if any of them have shown up, it’s alive.”
“I hope so, too, but it’s not always the case.” He sent the six profile sheets to the printer and shut down his computer. “I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Do that. And Josh? Please, be careful while you’re checking this out.”
This time he was the one feeling the pain. How long had it been since anybody cared whether or not he was careful about anything? All he could do was nod before he went to get his sheets from the printer. If he said anything, Kyra would hear the catch in his voice and he didn’t want that.
Twenty-four hours later Josh was down to five possible victims. Kyra would be happy to hear that the sixth had turned up alive, but no one had ever pulled her missing persons report. Now he stood in a medical clinic office and watched one of the techs work.
There was something about the guy that bothered Josh. Normally he could figure out what bugged him about a suspect right away, but so far what he felt was a vague unease he couldn’t define. The man looked to be in his mid-thirties; his height and build were both so average as to make him nondescript. He had olive skin and short brown hair and close-set eyes. All in all Josh thought he had so few distinguishing features that he could have been invisible.
Every ten minutes or so he called another name and someone would follow him back into an area that appeared to be a testing lab. Josh tried to keep himself from jumping to conclusions, but the guy wasn’t helping him any. The med tech’s demeanor was blunt and impatient, and Josh noticed he didn’t make small talk with any of the patients whose names he called. It was kind of like watching some kind of android work, except androids probably didn’t have smirks like this guy.
Before Josh could get up and talk to the tech, someone else called his name and he found himself ushered into the office of the clinic manager. “You realize that I can’t tell you much regarding patients here. Government regulations won’t let us release much information without a warrant.” Her thin aquiline nose seemed to turn up in distaste as she talked to Josh, and the corner of her mouth curled in displeasure.
“I understand that, but what I’m asking for is legal.” Josh tried to give her a winning smile, but he felt out of practice and his efforts were wasted on the woman. “We already know through other sources that two people whose bodies we’ve identified were patients at this clinic shortly before they disappeared. Now I’ve got one more unidentified young woman and at least five different possibilities for who she is.”
“And you expect me to help you with that?” Her voice was flat.
Josh spread out the five sheets he’d printed out. “As much as you can. All I’m asking of you is to check and see if any of these names show activity as patients after the date they were reported missing.” He put up a hand before she could open her mouth in protest. “And before you say anything, I’m an FBI special agent and I know that the tougher medical privacy laws enacted in the past few years aren’t retroactive.”
Her sour expression told him that she hadn’t expected him to know that. “Come back tomorrow morning before ten and I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’ll be in at eight-forty-five,” Josh told her, making a mental note to be there a
t eight-forty at the latest and wondering what he could do then to put her in a better mood. The woman reminded him so much of his sixth-grade English teacher that he doubted that a good mood was a possibility. He couldn’t think of a single thing he could bring in the morning that might put a smile on this woman’s face.
SEVEN
Who was this guy, and what was he doing? The Watcher had seen him twice now, and had gotten a bad feeling both times. He looked too sharp, and everything about him screamed cop. The last thing he needed right now was some kind of investigator getting close to him. First they’d ruined his garden and now there had been an article buried back in the paper about a skeleton being identified as a kid who’d gone missing seven years ago.
The Watcher felt like pacing, but right now he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself, especially not with this guy around. It was bad enough that woman from the crime lab was nosing around. Now she had some kind of investigator working for her, and they’d gotten way too close to suit him. He was having a hard time controlling the urges now, and the girls were getting bolder. Yesterday one of them had stared at him as if daring him to take her on. Soon, he thought. It’s going to happen soon. Now, what could he do to get these two nuisances out of the way first?
Whatever idea he came up with, it would have to be subtle and quiet. His life right now was set up the way he liked it. He had a decent job, relationships he was happy with, and he didn’t want to mess that up. As long as the girls stopped staring at him he’d be okay.
“You were right,” Josh said in a near whisper. Kyra nudged him with her elbow, making him stop talking before the beaming clinic manager got close enough to hear him.
He hadn’t believed her when she’d told him what to take to the clinic as a present if he wanted the manager to smile at him. “Paper towels? I was thinking a rose, or coffee, or chocolate or something.”
“Trust me on this one,” she’d told him. “Clinics that run on a shoestring never have enough supplies of any kind. Coffee won’t thrill her nearly as much as a box of file folders or the paper goods they most likely go through with lightning speed.” His wary look last night had told her that he didn’t think she was right, but when they’d gotten in his car this morning, there was a twenty-four-roll pack of paper towels in the backseat.
“Bringing gifts and right on time,” the manager said, sitting down at her desk and not looking at all like the unhappy person Josh had described yesterday. Kyra tried mightily not to look smug, merely smiling back at the woman and not even thinking I told you so.
“Gifts and my boss,” Josh said, rising to greet the clinic manager. “This is Dr. Elliott from the state forensics lab. She’s the one who is in charge of the department that’s identified Gen and Serita.”
“Were you the clinic manager that long ago, Ms. Underwood?” Kyra was pretty sure of what the woman’s answer would be, but part of it caught her off guard, anyway.
“Not the manager, but I did work here,” she said as they all sat down in the chairs around her battered desk. “I’m an RN, and back then I was running parenting classes and some other programs. I remember Gen and her son. I was so surprised when she stopped coming to the clinic because she really seemed to care about that child.”
“She did,” Kyra said, feeling sorrow creep up on her. She willed herself not to cry and instead focused on the metal surface of the desk.
“I would think there would be a high turnover in a clinic,” Josh said, saving her from showing how choked her voice had become. “Besides you, are there any employees that have stayed that long?”
“Dr. Perry has been here for ten years. I think he’s planned on retiring the whole time and just can’t bring himself to do it, because he knows how hard we’ll have to look to replace him. And the ultrasound and X-ray clinician, Ramon Garcia, has been with us that long, I think.”
Kyra saw Josh lean forward just a little, and his eyes lit up. He’d told her last night about his feelings regarding the man he pointed out in the lobby when they arrived this morning. Kyra tried to keep her own opinions to herself, but if Josh pressed her she’d be forced to admit that there seemed to be something a little “off” about the man.
“Would I have seen Mr. Garcia in the waiting room yesterday?”
“Probably. We don’t have enough staff to give him someone to call his patients in for testing, so he does that himself.” Ms. Underwood looked down at the file folder she had brought to the desk with her when she met them. “But you were asking last night about these five women. I can’t tell you much, but I do have some information for you.”
“We’ll be happy to take what you can give us.” Now Kyra was the one leaning forward, praying silently that maybe now they could identify the third victim.
“I found something on three of them. I’m afraid that in one case it isn’t good news, but it removed Amy from your possible victims. Apparently she committed suicide five years ago.”
Kyra’s heart sank. “I’m sorry to hear that. And the other two?”
“Better, at least a little bit. Maria turned up in Texas under a different name and Jade was referred by our clinic to a battered woman’s shelter just three years ago. So that leaves two of your original five still unaccounted for.”
“And both of these two were in the foster care system at the time of their disappearance,” Josh said, a rising note in his voice. “Thank you, Ms. Underwood. You’ve been very helpful.”
The woman seemed to do a slight double take. “You’re welcome. Does this mean you’re not going to press me for information on these two?” She held out the information sheets on the remaining young women.
“If we need to, we can get a warrant so that you won’t be in a compromising situation,” Josh said. “You’ve done what you can legally and I truly appreciate it. Why should I push it?”
Ms. Underwood looked over at Kyra. “Yesterday Mr. Richards told me he was from the FBI. Was he putting me on? I’ve never met a federal agent even halfway this pleasant.”
“He’s a rarity,” Kyra said. As she got to know Josh more with every passing week, she was discovering just how unusual he really was. And in almost every way, unusual was good. On the way back to the office she wanted to find a way to tell him, but she couldn’t think of a way that sounded right with somebody that they had both agreed was just a colleague, a friend.
“I still don’t like the way Garcia looks at his patients,” Josh said at a stoplight. “But that’s not enough to check to see if he has a record.”
Kyra sighed. She didn’t want to admit that she wasn’t all that fond of the technician’s expression, either. “No, it isn’t. And we have work to do to see if the bones we’re calling Abigail could be either of those missing young women.”
Josh grimaced. “I don’t know whether to hope that it is or that it isn’t. The truth is that those bones belong to someone, and if we know who she is, she’ll eventually get a decent burial and any family she might have will know what happened to her.”
Kyra sat back in her seat, even more surprised than she was in the clinic manager’s office. This was a whole different attitude than Joshua would have expressed a few weeks ago. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks as they pulled into the parking lot of the lab and she got ready to go to work.
Several times in the next few days Josh surprised her with his compassionate attitude. There was still no definitive piece of evidence that told them who the last body belonged to. What they did have pointed to the girl either being Lisa Phipps or Nikki Carter. One had been thirteen when she disappeared, the other fifteen. After more than seven years there was little left of either child’s existence to try to figure out which one it might be.
Kyra looked at the information they had on the two, searching one more time to see what they could have missed. One thing nagged at her from the information sheets—what was it? Both had gone to the medical clinic she and Josh had checked out. Each had disappeared while they were still in the foster car
e system. Lisa had a father living at the time of her disappearance, but he’d been in state prison serving time for killing her mother. Nikki had been in foster care since shortly after her eighth birthday, bouncing through several placements.
Nikki’s longest stay was at the group home where Marta lived right now. Kyra tried to think about what the girls had said about the home on their last movie date. In a few moments it came to her; the group home parents, Diana and Gary Griffith were still the same ones who’d been there seven years ago and even a few years earlier than that. Marta had said Diana was “okay,” which was grudging praise for her.
Kyra wondered if Diana was the kind of foster parent who saved something from every child whose life she shared. If Kyra was fortunate, she would be. It wouldn’t take much to say whether or not their missing girl was Nikki. “Time for another trip out in the field,” she told Josh as she entered her office. “This time I want to be the one who gets the last piece of the puzzle.”
“Fine with me,” Josh said. “As long as I don’t have to work with bones while you’re out investigating, I’m good.”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you,” Kyra said, suppressing the laugh that threatened at the mental image of Josh in the lab. “In fact, why don’t I give you the information on Lisa’s father and have you and Terry go out to the state prison where he’s housed and collect a sample so that we can clear the identity of this body one way or another?”
“Okay. Where are we going?” Josh didn’t look thrilled, but he wasn’t arguing, either.
Kyra looked down at her information. “Cumberland. It’s about a hundred-and-twenty-five miles from here. If you two get going in the next hour, you can be back here before rush hour this evening.”