The officer picked at the cuffs of his sleeves. “Just over two years.”
“Last case I had with you guys was, what?” he asked the captain. He knew the answer—he unfortunately never forgot a case—but that’s not what the question was about. He needed Murphy to see and believe the rapport Cam had with the department and with his captain.
“About three years ago,” Smith replied. “Nikka Wallace. Missing almost a week. You brought her home.”
“I can find Shannon myself,” Murphy said to Smith. “We can. We don’t need the feds.”
“The FBI has more resources,” Jamie countered.
Murphy’s dark gaze whipped back to them. “Thought you said you were here in an unofficial capacity.”
“Unofficial yes but not without resources.” Cam pulled the folder he’d laid in the middle of the table closer and withdrew the top picture. “This is my sister, Erin. She disappeared twenty years ago on her way home from the library. She was twelve.” He pushed the picture across the table to Murphy.
“I remember that,” he mumbled, drawing the photo closer. “She looks?—”
“A lot like your daughter.” Cam spread the remaining photos on the table. “So do these other girls who have gone missing over the past twenty years.”
Murphy’s dark eyes widened. “But I thought?—”
“Thought what?”
Jamie leaned forward, taking on the role of bad cop, though still soft playing it relatively. “There’s a reason you don’t want the feds involved, isn’t there?”
It was the perfect setup for Cam to swoop in and save the day. “Do you remember me and Bobby when we were teens?” He pointed at himself, smile self-deprecating. “Not exactly law-abiding citizens.”
Murphy hung his head, tugging at his sleeve again. “She’s into some shit. I thought that’s why . . .”
“It still may be,” Smith interjected. “But if it’s not, if it’s got something to do with these other disappearances, don’t you want the best helping us find her?”
“We can handle this delicately,” Cam said. “I’ve got skin in this game too. I want to find out what happened to my sister, and I want to help find your daughter.”
“But if there are charges against her. Or?—”
He cut himself off, and Cam sensed there was a “me” about to follow. It wasn’t only Shannon who was into some shit. Shit that could very well be unconnected to Erin or the other disappearances, but it was the best lead they had. And a girl was missing regardless.
Cam needed his best people on it, needed a certain one here who’d handled a similarly delicate matter before. Maybe Nic could maneuver the local federal prosecutors from San Francisco, but if Cam knew him, and he did by now, Nic wouldn’t abide sitting on the sidelines. Cam had already asked that of him enough, and this was not a case where there was a threat to his life.
He’d want to be in the middle of this, helping. He’d jumped at the chance to interview Becca and now here was a chance for him to be directly involved if Cam just asked. Except every part of that ask was dangerous, especially the part that would bring Nic to Boston. That would throw his family into further turmoil.
Because as untethered as he was beginning to feel, Cam would grab hold of Nic the second he walked through the door and not let go. A big part of him wanted Nic here. There’d be no hiding, assuming Nic didn’t turn his back when he found out Cam had been the one hiding all along.
But could Cam afford not to make the ask? He was a kidnap-and-rescue agent. He had to use every lever he had at his disposal to rescue Shannon Murphy, even if throwing that lever turned his own world upside down. And hell, he’d done that already, reopening his sister’s case. If helping Shannon could lead to finding out what happened to Erin, didn’t he owe his mother and family that too?
“I need to make a call,” he said, pushing back from the table. “There may be someone who can help us.”
He slipped out of the conference room and into Di’s office, shutting the door behind him as he dialed Nic’s number.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have better news for you,” Nic answered after the first ring, jumping straight into conversation as was their way. As much as Cam loved hearing his voice, he hated hearing the disappointment in it.
“It was a long shot. Which was why we didn’t identify a lead there the first time. She was a runaway, plain and simple.”
“Still, I wish I could have helped you somehow.”
Cam slumped back against the door, loosening his tie and the words trapped in his throat. “There may be another way.”
“Anything, Boston.”
“A cop’s daughter has disappeared.”
