That’s pretty fucking brazen and quite frankly, terrifying.
I’m feeling more powerless by the minute.
The urge to call Kate to hear with my own ears she’s unharmed is hard to resist, but I opt to shoot off a message to her instead.
Are you okay?
I stare stupidly at my phone, waiting for an instant reply, but none seems forthcoming.
“Okay, guys.” Matt separates the stack of papers he was printing off before Jacob called into three equal piles, handing one to each of us. “Let’s focus.”
In the past half hour Dresden and Punani have joined Adam Byron, across from the Mobil station, helping local cops who were called in to knock on doors of neighboring houses to look for possible witnesses to Sawyer’s kidnapping. They’ll be paying particular attention to houses with security systems, hoping for cameras that may have caught the actual abduction. Even just a glimpse of whoever took her would be helpful.
Until those guys come back with something, these records are all we have.
As Matt had pointed out earlier, to assume it was Kendrick might seem logical, but we have to keep an open mind to the possibility there are others involved.
Still, Kendrick’s alias is the first name I scan for when I flip through the stack of papers in front of me. I suspect Mason Kramer may not have been the only alternate identity he used, but Walker’s team hasn’t found evidence of any other names they’ve been able to connect.
To the world, Josh Kendrick no longer exists. Official records state the man perished in the fire at Transition House and what were supposed to be his remains—there wasn’t a lot left—were buried at the county cemetery when they were still unclaimed after three months. The man even has a simple stone marker listing his name.
Unfortunately, the county coroner who would’ve been responsible for identifying those remains as Kendrick died seven years ago, and no autopsy records could be found. I’m sure SAC Walker will eventually have those remains excavated and tested, but that doesn’t help us much now.
Four hundred and seventy-three police-issue Crown Vics from law enforcement departments in Lexington as well as the surrounding counties were auctioned off between 2012 and 2020. Each of the listings in the file showed manufacturing year, model, mileage, the overall condition, its former use, the date of the auction, and the winning bid and bidder.
My initial focus is on the names beside each entry, going carefully down the page, but nothing jumps out at me. No Kramer or Kendrick listed. I move on to the next one, hearing the rustle of paper as the others slip through their own stack.
“Can I get you guys anything else?”
Becky pokes her head in the door, looking more ragged than I’ve ever seen her before.
“We’re fine, Becks. Why don’t you try to lie down for a bit? Try to get some rest?”
I repeat what I told her half an hour ago after we had some of her soup and a sandwich. She didn’t listen then either, has been in the kitchen doing God knows what to keep busy.
Earlier I asked if there was a friend she could call who could come to be with her, but she didn’t want that. My guess is because she’s embarrassed her husband isn’t home to support her. Becky and Chad are very much about outward appearances, and I suspect any friends she has are equally skin deep. Image is everything.
Fucking Chad Miller.
“Okay,” Becky says, surprising me. “Let me know if…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence and looks so sad and lost standing there. I get up and go to her, noticing her eyes swimming with emotions.
“You’ll be the first to know,” I promise her, folding my arms around her.
There’s no one else here to give her comfort.
At first, she seems immobile, but then a sob breaks free and the full weight of her body sags against me.
All of a sudden, the front door swings open and her husband walks in the door. He takes one look at us standing in the doorway to his office and turns beet red.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Becky abruptly jerks from my arms and swings around on her husband.
“How dare you!”
Opal
“That’s him.”
I look up to find Melissa in the doorway.
She’d dozed off on the couch in the family room off the kitchen, watching TV, while Lee and I were in here downloading.
Janey disappeared to her room almost immediately when we got here, claiming to need peace and quiet to work. Raj has been on the phone in hers, talking to Jacob and trying to pull strings to allow her to interview Jamie Lyons once he arrives at the FBI office.
Apparently, getting his house shot up, and the shared news Mitch’s daughter was now also missing, prompted Lee to share a little more of what he was able to uncover in the years of research he’s put in. Some of this stuff—especially what he has on the congressman—is pretty interesting.
It turns out the Caribbean is a frequent travel destination for him. Not for family vacations though. Every one of the five trips he’s made there in the past two and a half years, his family stayed home. It confirms our suspicions he’s involved in the organization.
Lee has a picture he took of Melnyk sitting in an airport lounge with Kendrick up on his screen.
“That man?”
I point at the congressman, already knowing from what Kaylie told Raj, Doug was the one she was set up with at Krebs’s cabin.
“He said his name was Doug,” she says in a soft voice, lowering her eyes to the floor as a shiver appears to roll through her. “I’d seen his picture before. I knew he was some kind of politician. I was scared.”
“I don’t blame you,” I tell her gently. “And I know it’s not easy to talk about, but is there anything else you may have remembered since the last time we talked?”
I could swear she’s about to mention something when she seems to change her mind and shakes her head. I don’t want to push the girl when I know she doesn’t really trust anyone at the moment. I might risk her shutting down completely, but we need something to go on. Anything.
“Melissa, another girl was taken last night. She’s only sixteen years old.” Her eyes snap up so I press on. “Do you remember Agent Kenny, who was with me the other day? It’s his daughter. Her name is Sawyer.”
She pushes away from the doorpost and walks toward us, taking a seat across the table. She glances furtively at Lee.
“Is it easier if I go?” he asks immediately with genuine concern.
Despite my poor first impression of the man, he is fast winning me over.
“No. That’s all right.”
“Okay. I’m just going to make some tea though. I’ll just be over there,” he says, pointing to the stove.
Smart move. It gives the girl a sense of privacy without losing the security of having him close by.
He’s definitely rising in my esteem.
“I’ll have some too, if you don’t mind,” I tell him as he passes, before turning to Melissa. “You want some too?”
When she nods, he says, “I’ll make a pot.”
He grabs the kettle off the stove and holds it under the faucet. As soon as the water runs, the girl starts talking.