“If he’s still in the city at all,” Graham said. “And if he is, the chances of someone recognizing him are slim. How many blond-haired, green-eyed men with no distinguishing marks and of average build and height are walking around this city?”
“Too damn many. You two better get out there and start looking.” Harper gave a curt nod and then returned his focus to his computer screen. Meeting over.
Graham grabbed the thin file and walked back to his small office down the hall. Reaching for his phone, he glanced back at Eric. “Where do you want to start?”
“Harper suggested seeing the godmother ASAP.” Eric followed him in and took a seat on the hard plastic chair in front of his desk.
Fiery eyes that burned like dying embers popped into his head and his throat went dry. As much as he’d like to see what Mickey looked like out of her workout clothes, it wasn’t a good idea. At least not tonight. He needed a little distance until he saw her again, and she needed time to let things simmer in her brain. Even if she were completely innocent, it’d be better to let little things Pete had said or done come to her over time instead of hounding her for information.
“No, I think it’d be better to see her tomorrow.”
“Do you think she’s in on this?”
He sighed and rubbed the palm of his hand over the two-day growth of whiskers on his chin. His hip rested against the side of the desk. “My first read is she’s innocent. But dammit, she’s tied up so tight into every aspect of this investigation, it doesn’t sit well with me. We can’t look past that. In most cases, the simplest answer is usually the right one.”
“You said she didn’t fall apart.” Eric picked up a pen and tapped it against the side of the desk. “You don’t think that’s weird? If I found out someone I loved was missing, especially a child, I’d be pretty torn up.”
“She went straight for denial. It won’t be long before the truth smacks her in the face.”
If she didn’t already know the truth.
His mind went back to the small smile she’d worn when she first spotted him outside of her apartment. “It didn’t help she and I have a history, even if a brief one. It threw her off seeing me again. I thought that might work to my advantage, but now I’m not so sure.”
“You’ve got to stop second-guessing yourself, man. I agreed with you about speaking to her alone, that’s why I stayed out of the way and talked more with Becca’s mom.” Eric dropped the pen and stood. “What’s the plan?”
“Finding Becca is our priority, but to do that we need to go back to the beginning. We need to talk to the families of the other missing girls.”
Eric nodded. “I agree. We also need to push on getting more information on Pete Bogart. We’ll be more productive if we split up on this. Do you want the desk work or the families?”
His lips hitched up at the corner. “Seriously?”
Eric laughed and stepped toward the door. “I don’t know why I even asked. Go ask the questions and meet me back here when you’re done. If you get any leads, tag me. I’ll do the same.”
“You might not be able to ride the desk on this one, old man,” Graham said with a laugh.
Eric scowled, making the lines in his face more pronounced. “Watch yourself, son. I’ll put you behind your desk. I know how much you love paperwork.”
“I didn’t mean it.” Graham winced and held up his hands in surrender. Being stuck behind his desk would be pure torture. Eric’s preference for following a paper trail to track down a lead made him an ideal partner. “But in all likelihood one of us will have to go to Mexico and run down everything Sanchez gave us. And the last time I was on a plane from Mexico, it didn’t go well.”
“You brought in your man. I’d say it went well enough,” Eric said with a chuckle.
Graham raised his eyes to the ceiling. “I guess it depends on how you look at it.”
Eric smiled and gave a salute before walking out the door. Graham shuddered. No way in hell he was getting on a plane anytime soon. Not unless Mickey’s long, lean legs were peeking out of her hip-hugging blue skirt and serving him a cocktail. He shook his head, forcing the image from his mind. He still didn’t know the role she played in everything. For all he knew, the next time he saw Mickey, she’d be in handcuffs.
5
The solid metal of the barrel pressed harder against the back of Mickey’s head. All the blood drained from her face and she squeezed her elbows to her sides, trying to make herself smaller. Not that it helped. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
“Put your phone down,” said the woman behind her. Her voice was full of grit, as if she’d gurgled a handful of rocks after smoking a pack of cigarettes.
Her hot breath brushed against Mickey’s ear and her stomach heaved. Saliva filled her mouth and she swallowed hard to keep from getting sick. Something told her the woman holding her hostage wouldn’t appreciate getting puke on her shoes. Slowly reaching forward, she placed her phone face up on the table.
“Take whatever you want,” Mickey said in a small voice. “I don’t have much, but take it all.”
A harsh laugh raised all the hairs on her arms. “I don’t want your shit. I’m here to make sure you keep your mouth shut.”
“About what? I don’t know anything.” Tears clogged her throat. She pushed down the panic coursing through her andtried to focus. How the hell could she get out of this? Her eyes darted to her purse sitting on the table in front of her. If she could reach it, she stood a chance. But if she moved at all, she’d probably get a bullet in the brain.
