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Untold Page 16


  “That’s a mighty big hunting ground.”

  “It’s a place to start.”

  Claire groaned. “Fuck, I hate milk cartons.”

  Alex laughed despite the gravity of the work ahead. “We’ll divide the area,” she told Claire. “I’ll take New York. You take Connecticut and Massachusetts.”

  Claire sighed. “Fabulous. Can’t we get some minions to do this?” she asked. Alex smiled. “This is my punishment for the Maria joke I made earlier; isn’t it?”

  Alex chuckled.

  “I knew it. They should never have partnered me with the Von Trapps.”

  Alex shook her head. Claire’s bit of levity was welcome. “I’ll try not to break out into Edelweiss,” she joked.

  Claire looked at Alex in astonishment. “Holy shit, she has a sense of humor.”

  Alex winked and then focused on her computer screen. Now, let’s find out who you might be.

  ***

  “Long day?” the security guard greeted the man in the van.

  “Long life, Brandon,” the man replied. “I see you’re back at the home office.”

  “For now.”

  “Two jobs must be exhausting,” the man observed.

  “You should know,” Brandon said.

  “Me?”

  “Well, yeah. Seems like you’re always on the run somewhere. I’ll bet you’re glad to be off the road.”

  The man smiled. “Oh, you know what they say; home is where the heart is,” the man quipped.

  “My wife tells me that all the time when she wants me to take out the garbage.”

  The man laughed. “Sounds familiar. You have a good night.”

  “You too, Mr. Duncan.”

  The man rolled up his window and yawned. “Home,” he mused. “Well, let’s hope they’ve already taken out the garbage.”

  ***

  Alex’s temples were throbbing. Five hours of combing through missing persons reports and searching data bases had brought on a severe migraine.

  Claire looked over and shook her head. She needs those glasses.

  “Hey,” Alex called to Claire.

  “Find something?”

  “I’m not sure. Look at this,” Alex said. “These two girls went missing ten years ago, both from Middleburgh.”

  “New York?”

  “Yeah, just south of Schoharie, not far from the area where they found Kaylee.”

  “Cold case?”

  “Not even a case,” Alex commented. “Just a missing person’s report. One was eighteen, the other nineteen. Technically, they were both adults. No reason to suspect foul play—no substantial investigation.”

  Claire shook her head.

  “What?”

  “Two girls just up and disappear, and that doesn’t warrant an investigation?”

  Alex nodded. “I’m certain it warranted some phone calls, maybe even a few visits to distant friends. Over half a million people are reported missing every year, Claire. If every cop in America got assigned to work on a case, there would never be enough assets to run down every lead.”

  “Maybe. You and I both know nine times out of ten they didn’t happily skip off to Wonderland.”

  Alex sighed. She looked at Claire. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Worth a shot,” Claire agreed. “Start at the beginning.”

  Alex nodded. Two girls missing from the area she and Claire had developed as this killer’s likely hunting ground—two girls found buried where Kaylee had gone missing. Alex would love to have believed it was a coincidence. That seemed unlikely. She looked at the contact number on the original report filed by George Evans. What are the chances they are still there? She picked up her phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number. “Hello?”

  ***

  “Mom!” Mackenzie bellowed.

  Cassidy threw her head back with exasperation. “I’m in the kitchen, Kenz.”

  “Mom,” Mackenzie grabbed Cassidy’s hand.

  “What?”

  “Abby fell off the swing in back.”

  Cassidy wiped her hands on a towel and followed her daughter outside. She sighed lightly and picked up her pace to reach her youngest child. “What happened?” Cassidy asked, pulling Abby into her arms.

  “We went too high,” Connor said, pointing to the tire swing.

  Cassidy looked at her son. He was covered in dirt and grass, but he didn’t look to have any injuries. She turned back to Abby, who clung to her. “What hurts?” she asked. Abby held up her hand. Cassidy kissed the little girl’s head. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Let’s go inside and see what you did; okay?”

  Abby continued to cry until Cassidy got her seated in the kitchen. Cassidy gently washed some dirt off Abby’s hands and face. She grimaced at the dark bruise already apparent around Abby’s wrist. Of all the kids that could get hurt. Cassidy smiled reassuringly at her daughter. “Abby, sweetheart; I think maybe we need someone to take a picture of your wrist.”

  Abby flinched and then wailed.

  Cassidy picked her up and held her. “Shh,” she tried to soothe her daughter. “You know, your big brother fell off that swing a few times. So, did Kenzie. Kenzie got to wear a pretty pink brace for a while.”

  Mackenzie stepped up and patted her little sister’s knee. “Yep. And, see? I’m okay. I even got ice cream after,” she tried to cajole her sister.

  Cassidy smiled proudly at Mackenzie. She felt Connor tug at her shirt and looked down at a pair of watery eyes. “It’s all right, Connor,” Cassidy assured him. “Abby will be okay; I promise,” she assured him. “Kenz? Can you please go call Grandma and ask her if she could come by?”

  Mackenzie nodded. “Don’t worry, Abby,” she told her sister. “Mom always knows how to make it better,” she said and then skipped off to complete her assigned task.

  “Mommy?” Abby called for Cassidy’s attention. Cassidy turned back to her and smiled. “Do I get ice cream too?”

  Cassidy chuckled, leaned in and kissed Abby’s forehead. “I think when we get home later, we ought to have an ice cream party,” she said.

  “Party!” Connor yelled with delight.

  Cassidy laughed. Only in this family is a potential broken bone a reason to throw a party.

  ***

  “Hello. Mr. Evans? Mr. George Evans?” Alex inquired.

  “Yes?”

  Alex let out a deep breath. “My name is Agent Alex Toles. I’m with the FBI.”

  “FBI?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry to call you out of the blue like this.”

  “Is this about Melissa?” the older man’s voice caught.

  Alex steadied her breathing. “I’m not sure,” she replied honestly. “I’m investigating a homicide. The victim was from your area. I understand that you reported Melissa missing ten years ago.” Alex heard a long sigh escape the man on the line.

  “Is it her?” he asked.

  “No, sir. But,” Alex proceeded with caution. “We found two other victims close to where this young lady was discovered. Identification is proving difficult.”

  “And, you think one of them is my Melissa?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you more. I understand your daughter was last seen with a close friend.”

  “Yes,” he replied somberly. “Darla.”

  Alex paused for a moment. “Sir, I know this is difficult. I would like to have an agent come out and collect a DNA sample if possible.”

  “What do you need?” he asked.

  “If you have anything of hers still available—a brush perhaps, even a lock of hair from her youth—that would be ideal. If not, we can look to take a cheek swab from you.”

  George Evans closed his eyes.

  “Mr. Evans?”

  “Whatever you need, Agent Toles. How long will it take?”

  “The faster we collect the sample, the sooner we will be able to make a determination.”

  “You know, you always hope…”

  “I understa
nd,” Alex said gently.

  “I’m just surprised that after so long anyone would even pay attention. Seems like no matter how many calls we’ve made or ways we’ve tried—well, it’s never led anywhere.”

  Alex felt her heart drop. Finding out that someone you love had been murdered was shocking and painful. Not knowing what might have happened to someone you love? That was worse by far. She had witnessed that pain before. Families always clung to a glimmer of hope, even amid the darkest shadows of doubt. It was a way to survive the unknown. Never knowing the truth left a cavernous divide between hope and despair, one that families of missing persons were doomed to flounder in until there was a conclusion. Unfortunately, in Alex’s experience, any conclusion that was ever reached rarely lifted their hope.

  “I promise you,” she said. “If this is not your daughter, I will do what I can to help you find some answers.”

  Claire’s head snapped up. “Toles,” she warned.

  Alex ignored her partner. “I’ll be in touch,” Alex promised.

  “What the hell was that?” Claire asked.

  “What?”

  “Alex, you and I both know the FBI is not about to waste resources on a case of two missing girls that was never even a case.”

  Alex shrugged.

  “Toles…”

  “What? It wouldn’t be the first time you or I investigated something off the radar.”

  Claire shook her head.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Alex said. “I don’t think we will need to.”

  Claire nodded. “It doesn’t—make me feel better that is,” she said.

  Alex sighed when her phone rang. “Toles.”

  “Hi.”

  “Cass?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked.

  “Relax,” Cassidy replied. “Everything is okay. Abby just had a little accident.”

  “What kind of little accident?” Alex wanted to know.

  “She fell off the tire swing,” Cassidy explained. She heard Alex groan. “She’s okay. I called Dr. Brandeis. He suggested I take her to Yale; just in case.”

  “Just in case?”

  “Alex,” Cassidy softened her voice. “She’s all right. I think she might have broken her wrist.”

  Alex’s fingertips reached the bridge of her nose and pressed hard. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Alex, it’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Alex disagreed.

  “Alex…”

  “I’m not that far, Cass. You’ll be waiting a while. I can be there in a couple of hours.”

  “You’re working.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Alex,” Cassidy’s voice became firm. “Please, trust me. Abby is okay. You need to be where you are. She’s more excited about the ice cream party I promised than worried about the emergency room right now.”

  Alex chuckled. “Bribing the kids?”

  “Learned from the best,” Cassidy deadpanned.

  “I will never live that down.”

  “Not likely,” Cassidy agreed. “Just do what you need to do. I’ll call you when I know something.”

  Alex sighed. “Cass, if you need me…”

  “Go on, Agent Toles.”

  ***

  “What are you doing?” Eleana asked Jonathan.

  “Checking on some things for Alex.”

  “Things?”

  “She’s worried about Dylan.”

  “Find anything?”

  “Maybe,” Jonathan replied. “What are you doing here? I thought Helen was coming up today?”

  Alex’s mother had adopted Jonathan into her fold. It was a late in life relationship that Eleana could tell meant the world to her husband. He had never had a close relationship with the father who raised him, and had no idea that Nicolaus Toles was his biological father for most of his life. It was odd to him now. When Jonathan Krause looked in the mirror, he could see the resemblance he held to both his half-brother and half-sister. He and Alex shared many common traits from the color of their eyes to a tendency to pinch the bridge of their nose when stress began to build. Helen’s acceptance of him into the Toles family had meant more than he had expressed to anyone. Alex’s mother told him stories about the man who had tried to silently guide him from a distance. She held no bitterness toward Jonathan’s mother nor her husband.

  “Life is unpredictable,” Helen told him before he married Eleana. “It twists on a dime. You can’t yield to it, but you have to learn to bend if you hope to make it around those corners. Marriages are the same way.”

  Eleana smiled. “She was,” she said. “She pulled YaYa duty this afternoon.”

  “Everything okay with Cassie? Is she sick or something?”

  “No,” Eleana said. “Abby took a tumble. Cassidy needed to take her to the ER.”

  Jonathan cringed.

  “Why would Cassidy be sick?” Eleana inquired.

  Jonathan offered his wife a sheepish grin. “She’s pregnant.”

  “Seriously?”

  Jonathan laughed. “I don’t think Alex would joke about that.”

  “Huh.”

  “That surprises you?” he asked.

  “Not really,” Eleana replied. “She’s just never mentioned that they wanted to try.”

  “Listen,” Jonathan said. “I need to talk to some old acquaintances.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  He smiled. “Believe me; it’s much safer than dealing with Carecom business.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s just Viktor.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Need my help?” Eleana grinned.

  “No.”

  “Jonathan, I’m pregnant, not invalid.”

  “No,” Jonathan said. “I still remember my Russian.” Eleana had served as a translator for the US State Department A.K.A. The Central Intelligence Agency since her mid-twenties.

  “Your Russian has never sounded much like Russian,” she teased him.

  “Very funny.”

  “Just curious, but why doesn’t Alex just ask Jim if she’s worried?”

  “You know she’s still cautious there.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Jonathan groaned.

  “Jonathan? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “She’s back at the FBI.”

  “Yes, I know. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I think she sort of has her hands full with her new partner?”

  “Why? Did they assign her a rookie?”

  “Not exactly—no,” he said. Eleana looked at him curiously. Jonathan sighed. “Claire.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Alex’s new partner,” he tried to explain.

  “Yes?”

  “Is Claire.”

  “My Claire?”

  Jonathan sighed.

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Yeah, I do,” he said. “Yes.”

  Eleana shook her head. “Claire and Alex are partners?” she asked again. He nodded. “Oh, boy.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  “How is that going?”

  “I’m not really sure,” he admitted. “Alex said Claire is Claire light; whatever that means.”

  “Tell me how I can help.”

  “With Claire?”

  Eleana laughed. “No, with whatever it is you think you are looking for.”

  “Oh.” He opened his laptop. “Feel like digging through some old files?” he turned the computer toward her.

  Eleana narrowed her gaze. “Digging up old skeletons?” she asked.

  “Well, sometimes the past tells you a lot about the present.”

  “Jonathan…”

  “I know,” he said.

  “Okay,” Eleana replied. “Jonathan? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Jonathan groaned.

  Eleana looked at the screen again. “Jonathan,
Carl Fisher is dead.”

  “I know.”

  Eleana sighed. “She’s worried about whether O’Brien fulfilled his objective,” she surmised. “What does Fisher have to do with that?”

  “Maybe nothing. He did know O’Brien.” He saw Eleana’s skepticism. “I know what you are thinking.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m sure that this case, working with Claire—all of it—I’m sure that it is bringing old demons back to the surface. The thing is, we never actually banished them. We just decided to let them lie; or, at least, Alex did.”

  “And, now?”

  “The past has a way of coming back sometimes. You know that as well as I do.”

  Eleana nodded. “I’ll look.”

  Jonathan leaned in and kissed her gently. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me,” she told him. “Just be careful.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Jonathan…”

  “I promise.”

  ***

  Cassidy ran her fingers through Abby’s hair. Abby’s head rested on her breast as she snuggled protectively against her mother.

  “Hey.”

  Cassidy looked up to meet Alex’s gaze. “What are you doing home?”

  Alex made her way to the bed and sat on the edge. “How is she?”

  “Tired.”

  Alex sighed.

  “Alex, don’t do this to yourself. She’s okay. She was just hurting a little bit tonight.”

  Alex reached out and stroked Abby’s back. “Why do we leave that swing up?”

  Cassidy laughed. “Maybe because the kids love it.”

  “And, fall off it.”

  “I thought we agreed you were going to stay at Jonathan’s and then head to New York?” Cassidy asked.

  “Home is on the way,” Alex said.

  Cassidy smiled and patted the bed. Alex pulled off her shoes and laid down on the other side of their daughter.

  “You okay?” Cassidy asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You are a horrible liar, Alex.”

  Alex chuckled. “Cass, I think we might be close to identifying those two women.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “I don’t know,” Alex said. “I had to call this man today. His daughter went missing ten years ago with her friend. I could hear the way he lost his breath. Is this finally it? That’s what he was wondering. People will say it gives you closure—to have the answer. I’ve always told myself that. Closure? Is closure better than hope, even if the hope is just a glimmer?”