Gone (Deadly Secrets Book 2)

by Elisabeth Naughton

Dammit, he’d made sausage links, her favorite. He didn’t even like sausage. He preferred bacon. Why the hell was he being so nice to her? She scooped up a bite of eggs and chewed begrudgingly.

  “So I made us an appointment for an interview with the second family this afternoon. The husband gets off work around two. They said they could see us at two thirty.”

  Shock rippled through Raegan as she lifted a piece of sausage with her fork. “You already called them?”

  “Yeah.” He rose from the table, grasped papers she hadn’t noticed were scattered all over the coffee table, and came back. “I was looking through these files last night, and I found something of interest. Each of these families in the Portland area was receiving social services through the state for food assistance, basic services like health care, or were part of the Family Support and Connections program that provides parenting classes and resources.” He laid the papers out so she could see them.

  Raegan was still reeling from the fact he’d taken the initiative to make those calls when his words hit her. “All three of them? Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “I called Barbara Willig this morning. The Willig family’s caseworker was a man named Conner Murray. I also put a call in to the Oregon Department of Human Services and left a message. Someone’s supposed to call me back regarding the other two families.”

  “You think they might have the same caseworker?”

  “Would be quite a coincidence if they did, don’t you think?”

  Raegan glanced back down at the papers. “Yeah, it would be.”

  He shuffled the papers together into a stack. “I also heard back from Hunt. The girl we saw at the hospital? She’s autistic. Nonverbal. Looks completely normal but has trouble forming attachments. She’d been missing about a week when she turned up.”

  “Were any of the other kids autistic?”

  “Not that I’ve been able to find.”

  She looked down at the papers. “Then I don’t see how her being autistic has anything to do with anything else.”

  “Stay with me a second. We’re brainstorming, right?” He shifted in his seat and smiled, and the rare curve of his lips pushed away the last of her irritation and made her focus in on him. “It’s odd no child remains have been found or reported to the police. If we assume these cases are linked and that someone is kidnapping young kids and killing them, then someone would have found something by now. Let’s face it. Criminals make mistakes, and some of these cases go back at least ten years. Mistakes are how all serial killers are caught.”

  Sickness brewed in Raegan’s stomach, but she listened to what he was saying because she knew they had to consider the fact this was a serial killer at work. His targets, for whatever reason, were just much younger. “Okay, go on.”

  “It’s possible this person’s taking kids for organ harvesting.”

  She’d already thought of that. That sickness rolled faster, killing her appetite. “We should check blood types on all these kids. See if there are any similarities there as well. We should also check out child transplant surgery lists in the Northwest and try to find which transplant companies were used.”

  “I agree. But I’m not convinced these kids are being killed.”

  Her brow lowered because that wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. Especially considering what he believed had happened to their daughter. “Why not?”

  He flipped through the case files in his hands. “All the kids here were healthy, normal children, and they’re still missing. The only kid who’s turned up is the autistic girl found wandering in a park, alone, ten miles from her house. No one has any idea how she got there, not even her.”

  “That’s not true. There’s the boy who was found in the back of that car on the highway.”

  “Right. A normal, healthy boy. In a getaway car. That had engine trouble.” He pulled his notepad from the bottom of the stack of files and read off what he’d scribbled there. “I talked to the police this morning. The timing belt in that car was busted. It wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It was also found not far out of the city where traffic’s still pretty heavy. What if the kid was sleeping in the backseat, and the guy left to get help, and before he could get back someone checked the car? Or what if he freaked when the car broke down and just ran, leaving his cargo behind?”

  Raegan wasn’t thrilled with the way Alec used the word “cargo,” but she set her fork down, understanding where he was going. “You’re hypothesizing that if the same person is abducting all these kids, then the boy being left in the car was a fluke, but the autistic girl showing up alone in a park was not.”

  “Yeah. I think he dropped her off because she was autistic. He didn’t want her anymore because she was different.”

  Raegan stared at him, her heart beating hard. “You’re talking about abducting children for a reason other than killing them. That goes against your theory about what happened to Emma.”

  “I know.” He didn’t look away when she mentioned Emma’s name. Just held her eyes with the same focused attention. He always looked away whenever anyone mentioned their daughter’s name. “But kids are abducted all the time for sex trafficking. An autistic girl who doesn’t like to be touched could never be trained for that.”

  What little breakfast Raegan had eaten threatened to come back up. She did not want to think about kids as young as one and four being taken for sex trafficking. Reaching for her coffee, she said, “You think it’s possible this social worker could be involved in something like that?”

  “I hope not.” He lifted his coffee for a sip and watched her over the rim of his cup. “Tomorrow I think we need to try to meet with the family of that autistic girl.”

  Raegan nodded, but her head swam with information and the pieces Alec had put together this morning.

  Alec jotted a few notes on his pad of paper. “I’ll also look into the blood types and try to get some transplant lists. That’s a good idea.” His pen stilled against the pad. “There’s one more thing we need to talk about.”

  The wary look on his face made Raegan’s stomach flop, and her nerves came rushing back because she knew he was going to bring up that kiss.

  Alec leaned back in his seat. “Before you got to the hospital the other day, Bickam told me the FBI received a tip about where to find that girl, and that the tip had come from the Santiam Correctional Institution. I had a hunch John Gilbert was the one who’d phoned it in, so I went to see him after I left the hospital.”

  Shock rippled through Raegan again as she looked up at him, only this shock was stronger than the one she’d felt before. In all the time she and Alec had been together, he’d only once gone to see his biological father, and that was right after Emma had disappeared. “You went to see him?”

  “I just wanted to know if he was involved.”

  “And?”

  “He didn’t admit to it. There’s no proof he’s the one who made the call. He didn’t name the specific park where she was found, but he did name one in the area. That’s more than coincidental to me, even though Bickam seems to think Gilbert might have heard the story on the news and was just messing with me. We all know how he likes to do that.”

  Yeah, Raegan did know that. In the weeks after Emma’s disappearance, John Gilbert had taunted Alec via phone and the mail. The cops had never been able to prove Gilbert had been involved in Emma’s disappearance, but Alec had always believed the worst.

  “Anyway, the conversation between us didn’t go well, as you can imagine. And when he mentioned you, I might have reacted. Badly.”

  Her stomach dropped. She could only envision how that had gone over. “What happened?”

  Alec’s jaw clenched. “He threatened to look you up after he got out. Since he wasn’t due to be released for a week, I didn’t tell you. Then you got that note on your car, and I thought maybe he told a friend to mess with you since I’d just talked to him. But yesterday when I found out he’d been released, and then discovered what happened to yo
u in that alley . . .”

  A mixture of rage and regret flashed in his features when he glanced at her bruised cheek, and she knew in that moment that he’d talked to Bickam this morning and gotten the details on her attack.

  “I know it was Gilbert. Bickam talked to the local cops about our case and said they’re looking for him so they can question him about his whereabouts last night, but so far they haven’t had much luck finding him. Which means”—he scrubbed a hand over his face—“you’re not safe until they do.”

  “I’m fine. This building—”

  “Is not as secure as you think.” He dropped his hand and stared at her with very focused, very determined blue eyes. “Until they pick him up, you’re not staying alone.”

  What little empathy she’d had for how awful it must have been for him to confront his father flew right out the window. “I don’t need any kind of protection. I’m perfectly fine by myself.”

  “No, you’re not.” Alec rose with his coffee and moved into the kitchen. “And don’t argue with me about this, Raegs. I know the man, and I’m not about to take chances with your life just because you want to be stubborn. We can either stay here or at my place, but until he’s caught, you’re not getting rid of me.”

  Raegan stared after him as he poured the rest of his coffee down the drain, a mixture of disbelief and frustration—and, yes, even warmth, since he’d used that stupid nickname again—tumbling through her.

  “Now finish eating,” he said, “so we can head over and find Conner Murray. I’m gonna grab a shower.”

  She watched him walk out of the room and disappear down the hall. Alone, she looked at her now-cold food and tried to decipher what, exactly, had just happened. They had a couple of leads—several that churned her stomach, but they were still leads. Alec had gone out of his way to not only take charge of their investigation but to be nice. And for the foreseeable future, they were living together.

  Nerves jumbled in her stomach at the last thought, followed by a rush of heat she told herself she was stupid to feel. He hadn’t mentioned their crazy make-out session last night, and part of her was relieved by that fact. But another part was disappointed too. Especially since she was even more wrecked now than when she’d climbed out of bed.

  Were they friends now? Exes who were just trying to be civil and solve a case? Or were they something more? He’d called her Raegs—last night and today. As much as she tried to tell herself he was only being nice, that he really didn’t care about her, she knew that was a lie. He did care. He cared a lot, judging by the fact he wouldn’t leave.

  Her hand shook as she reached for her coffee and sipped the cool liquid. Because she had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do about anything.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Alec’s phone had rung just after he’d finished a shower that had been filled with too many thoughts of Raegan in the other room and the way she’d looked at him this morning with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and heat.

  It was the heat that lit him up and made his body ache. Thankfully, the call had been from the department of social services for Washington County, refocusing him on the task at hand instead of on how much he wanted to pull Raegan into the shower with him. The receptionist hadn’t wanted to give him much information, but she had confirmed that Conner Murray had indeed worked with all three families he and Raegan were checking into. And that news had shifted his plans for the day. After hustling to get ready, he’d found Raegan waiting for him in the living room, and they’d driven right over to Murray’s office to try to catch the man.

  The receptionist was young, with blonde hair pulled back in a neat tail and trendy glasses perched on her slim nose. She immediately grew nervous when they approached her, and Alec suspected she knew she’d already given away too much information. He poured on the charm, but the girl kept glancing at Raegan, and the most she would tell them was that Murray had just left for an appointment.

  Alec thanked her, and they headed for the door. “Let’s see if we can catch him.”

  Raegan nodded.

  The employee parking lot was empty except for one man with dark hair climbing into a state-issued Ford Taurus.

  “Mr. Murray?” Alec called.

  The man turned with one foot in the car and glanced back over the top of his door as Alec and Raegan approached. “Yes?”

  Bingo. “I’m Alec McClane, and this is Raegan Devereaux. We’d like to ask you a few questions about a couple kids under your watch.”

  Murray’s blue eyes narrowed, and his gaze skipped between them. “What’s this about?”

  “It’s about three missing toddlers over the last three years,” Raegan said. “You were assigned to each of their cases.”

  Murray’s face went ashen and quickly turned red. “You’re reporters, aren’t you? I’ve got nothing to say to the press.”

  He climbed into his car and slammed the door. Alec and Raegan watched as he whipped his car out of the space, glanced back at them through the rearview mirror, then sped out of the parking lot.

  A tingle ran down Alec’s spine. “Jumpy, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Very.”

  “Let’s find out who he’s scheduled to see tomorrow and get in his way.”

  Raegan glanced up at him. “That receptionist is not going to give it to us.”

  Alec wasn’t so sure. “Let me see what I can get out of her. Wait here.”

  Raegan rolled her eyes as he headed back inside. The receptionist was more relaxed once Raegan was gone. Alec made up a story about writing an article on the hidden heroes in America’s fight against poverty and told her he’d heard amazing things about Murray’s work with at-risk youth. She was hesitant about giving him the info he wanted, but after turning up the charm and showing her some of his other work on his phone, she finally caved.

  When he rejoined Raegan at his truck, she was already sitting inside waiting. He climbed in and handed her a piece of paper. “Got his schedule for tomorrow.”

  She scanned the page, written in the young girl’s bubble script, frowned, and proceeded to rip the bottom line off and tear it in pieces.

  “Hey,” Alec said, feigning shock as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I might need that.”

  “Blondie’s phone number? I don’t think so.”

  Alec chuckled as they headed to their scheduled interview. She was jealous. He sorta liked that. When he’d seen her with Jeremy Norris at the hospital he’d been green with envy. He had no idea what was happening between them, and after last night’s kiss he wasn’t sure what he even wanted to happen between them, but he liked that she was jealous. It meant some part of her still cared.

  Forty-five minutes later they pulled to a stop in front of a one-story Cape Cod in Forest Grove. Luis and Marie Ramirez had moved out of Portland a year after their son David disappeared. Their rental was small but well-kept. The yard was clean, the trees had recently been trimmed, and a three-foot-tall wooden snowman wrapped with an orange scarf sat on the porch welcoming guests.

  “What did you say Mr. Ramirez does for a living?” Raegan asked as she followed Alec up the front walk.

  “Concrete. He got a job out here with the city about fourteen months ago.”

  “And what about Mrs. Ramirez?”

  “Food services at the local elementary school.”

  He knocked, and they both waited as footsteps sounded inside. Seconds later, the door pulled open, and a Hispanic man in his early thirties with dark hair and eyes, wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way to his throat, said, “Yes?”

  Alec offered his hand. “Hi, Mr. Ramirez. I’m Alec McClane. We spoke earlier on the phone?”

  Luis Ramirez nodded. “Sí. Uh, come on in.” He held the door open for them, closing it after they moved into the living room. “I’ll get my wife. She just got back from picking our son up from school.”

  His English was choppy but clear. As he rounded a corner and disappeared down a small hallway, Raeg
an moved farther into the living area and sat on the couch. “This is nice. A lot nicer than the last place we visited.”

  It was. The room was small but clean with whitewashed beadboard walls, a leather couch and two recliners, a small TV on the wall above the fireplace, and a crucifix hanging near the door.

  Luis reappeared holding the hand of a small Hispanic woman, her dark hair pulled back in a neat tail, a nervous expression on her face. “This is my wife, Marie.”

  “Hola.” Marie stepped forward and held out her hand. Alec rose and shook it. Raegan did the same.

  “Thanks for meeting with us,” Alec said.

  The woman turned toward her husband and said something in Spanish Alec didn’t catch. Seconds later, Luis looked their way. “Sorry. Uh, my wife’s English is not so good. She wants to know if you want something to drink?”

  “No, we’re fine.” Alec smiled at the wife, then sat. Raegan lowered herself to the couch next to him. “Thanks for talking to us today about David. We know how hard this probably is for you.”

  The Ramirezes exchanged nervous looks, then each sat in the recliners opposite the couch.

  “It is,” Luis said. “But we agreed long ago if anyone, especially any reporters, wanted to talk to us, we would cooperate. We want to find our son.”

  Alec’s chest tightened, but today he focused on the case, not his personal feelings. “David went missing twenty-nine months ago, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Luis answered. “We were living in Northeast Portland then. It was September. We’d taken him to the State Fair down in Salem. It was packed that day. Hot. Over a hundred degrees. Our older son, Miguel, was eight at the time. He’d wanted to go on the rides. I took him. Marie stayed with David and went to get food from one of the vendors.”

  “How old was David then?” Alec asked.

  “Barely two.”

  Marie spoke rapidly in Spanish, and Luis nodded, then said, “He was walking then. Never wanted to sit still. She pushed the stroller to a food cart, took her eyes off of him to pay, and when she looked back, he was gone.”