“Got it, cross-checking.” Jamie pulled up the list of missing persons on the left side of the screen. Zero matches. “Aside from being in the Boston metro area, nothing,” Jamie said. “No known associates or associations between Harper and any of the missing persons.”
“Look at the dates,” Nic said. “The domestic violence incidences and the missing persons reports line up. A few days apart, each time.”
“Fuck,” Jamie cursed, no doubt seeing it too.
“He can only go so long before he erupts.” And attacked his family, and when that wasn’t enough, a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl. Someone who looked like Erin Byrne, and if those dates matched up . . . “Jesus Christ, Erin was the first.”
Nic yanked out his phone, speed-dialing Lauren.
“Hey, stranger,” she answered. “It’s quiet here without you and Cam. Just Aidan blustering around. And?—”
“Lauren,” he cut off her ramble.
Practiced at reading him by now, she snapped to professional attention. “What do you need?”
“Has Becca been transferred out of local lockup yet?”
Rapid-fire typing on the other end of the line. “She’s scheduled to leave in thirty.”
“Transfer me to the warden now.” Nic circled the table and double-tapped the glass. Cam was excusing himself as the warden answered the other end of the line.
“Price, what can I do for you?”
“I need to speak to Rebecca Wright before you transfer her.”
“That’s highly unusual.”
“Two minutes, warden. She’s been instrumental in helping us on a case, and I need to confirm something with her. A girl’s life is on the line here.”
The warden cleared his throat. “All right, just a minute.”
Cam entered, closing the door behind him. “What’ve you got?”
Nic switched the phone to speaker.
“Attorney Price,” Becca said, and Cam’s eyes shot to his, surprised. “You going to save me from gen pop for another few days?”
“Help me save a girl’s life, and I’ll do my best.”
When she didn’t answer right away, Cam interjected. “Becca, it’s Cameron Byrne.”
“Oh-ho, Hot Stuff. Should’ve known this involved you.”
“Becca, you help us out here, and I swear I’ll be the first one to speak on your behalf at your parole hearing.”
“I’m never getting out of here, boys, let’s be honest.”
“But I can try to get you someplace more pleasant,” Nic said.
“Please, Becca,” Cam added.
Only a second of hesitation this time. “What do you need to know?”
Cam sagged with relief, bracing a hand on the table.
“That list you provided has been invaluable. There’s a name on it we’re particularly interested in. Timothy Harper.”
“He’s the reason I left that crew,” she said, making no attempt to disguise the disgust in her voice. “Creepy fucker, always staring and skulking around. He gave me the wiggins.”
