Chapter Nineteen

Evan eyed the board in the war room crammed with photos of all the missing kids and the dates they'd disappeared. Most now also had the name of one of the pool cleaning companies beneath the photos. Blue Waters had been written beneath the Polaroid of his sister. With this latest missing boy, they needed to roll in another board.

Brian had called a meeting the second Evan got back from Wyoming. Frustration hung over the room like a thundercloud about to cut loose. He couldn't speak for anyone else, but he was ready to punch his fist through the wall.

"Before we get started," Brian said from the head of the table. "Where are Marlie and Noah now?"

"They're at Deck's house." His friend would protect them the same as Evan would. Plus, Brett's girlfriend, Gemma, would be there, going over wedding stuff with Tori. Like Marlie, both women were capable, intelligent, and quick thinking. Hell, Gemma had shot a man with a pneumatic nail gun. "Let's go around the table, starting with the latest missing boy." He indicated a Lakewood PD cop, Sgt. Blake Hayden, whom Evan had worked with on a case last year.

Hayden began reading from his laptop. "Cody Skillman, lives in Lakewood off Wadsworth. He's thirteen, been missing for two days. Parents only just reported it, since he's run away before but always came back." He paused and held up a finger. "They used to use Mile High Pool Cleaning but fired Manello two weeks ago."

"Why?" The timing was too coincidental.

Hayden arched a brow. "The parents caught him talking to Cody too much and thought it was creepy."

"Have there been any other reports of Manello getting fired?" Everyone in the room shook their head. "Noah said he's in a hurry to get more kids. Maybe he's getting careless, focusing too much on his targets and calling attention to himself."

"There's more," Hayden said. "After Cody never came home, the parents dug into his social media accounts. The kid took his phone, but not his laptop, and he was still logged in. Right after they fired Manello, Cody started talking to someone named Ian Coombs. We're working with the parents to get a full transcript, but based on the conversation they showed me, Ian Coombs is an alias for Frank Manello. Cody tells Coombs his parents were dickheads for firing him. Then Coombs says to meet him behind the King Sooper on Alameda in Lakewood. That was two days ago. No cameras back there, by the way."

This was happening right under their noses. They were close, but not close enough. "Check back with the families of the missing kids who didn't have a pool. See if those kids were talking to Coombs online."

"Will do." Hayden nodded.

"Where are we with the return on Manello's email provider?" Evan asked Tony Wong.

"Just came in." Tony plugged his laptop into the USB hub in the center of the table. Photos of eight kids populated the screen, including Noah's. "These photos were attached to emails Manello sent to [email protected]."

"What do we have on Tangier Industries?" He looked at Sammy. "Any connection to Purple Dream, LLC?"

"No." She shook her head. "That company has no online presence. They're not in Dun & Bradstreet or any other database, and FINCEN has nothing on them."

"So it's a made-up name created solely for email purposes." He'd been hoping to make a connection between Manello, the nine-thousand-dollar payments from Purple Dream, LLC, and the Wyoming farm.

"What's Rediff?" Brian asked.

"It's an India-based email service," Tony said. "Deck and I went through all the emails." He tapped his keyboard. "We found filled-out order forms. This one's for Noah."

Evan moved closer to the large screen on the wall, reading the column headings. First name. Sex. Age. Height. Weight. It was the last column heading that had his head prickling with rage. Personal . Under this column were the words baseball and computers . They were not only cataloguing kids' physical identifiers but their personal preferences. "Jesus. They're keeping track of what every kid likes, so they can lure them into the camp and convince them to stay by giving them what they want." Most of these kids were so needy and vulnerable it was easy. Only Noah had been savvy enough to see through their ploy and realize the camp wasn't all Manello promised it would be.

"I took Noah and Marlie up to Wyoming today," Evan said. "We looked at four properties. Noah can't positively ID any of them as being the camp, but there was one place with a seriously pricey security system. The local PD doesn't know much about the place, except that it's owned by Mr. and Mrs. Smith." Again, he looked at Sammy. "Anything on the Smiths?"

Sammy nodded. "John and Jane Smith do own that property you went to on Painted Sky Road. It's about a thousand acres. Other than the Google Earth images and property sales records, there's not much information available about that farm. Twenty-six years ago, Madeline Humphrey sold it to John and Jane Smith. And before you ask, after the sale, Madeline Humphrey moved to an assisted living facility in Florida. She died eight years ago."

All around the table came sarcastic grunts. They all knew John and Jane Smith were probably bogus names.

"I did find one other email you should see." Tony cued up another email from Tangier Industries to Manello.

Evan read the message aloud. "Cold weather coming soon. Urgent you find more help for the harvest. Big order to fill, then packing up for the move." Shit . If the farm with the over-the-top security system was indeed the camp, had them showing up today triggered a move?

"They're pulling up stakes," Brian said, voicing Evan's greatest fear.

The big question being, what would happen to the children already there?

"The harvest," Deck said. "Corn? Wheat? What's so important about those crops that they need children to do it?"

"I've got a theory." One he hadn't discussed yet with Brian. Only now were the pieces starting to fall into place. "Tony, were there any prints on that tub of marijuana I seized?"

"They're still working on the prints." Tony pulled something up on his laptop. "But I did get a response from the forensic botany unit at the University of New Haven on those buds. They've never seen anything exactly like it before, although there's some similarity to Green Gelato, a Dutch strain with a THC content of twenty-four percent, making it very popular. A couple hits is all it takes to get a cranking-good high."

"Thanks, Tony," Evan said. He'd been hoping to get a location. Unfortunately, most of their leads were drying up like a desert. Except for one.

Evan summarized the information Sgt. Browning had given him on the suspected pot farm and the two missing workers.

"They're still missing." Sammy handed Evan a folder. Before leaving the Cheyenne PD, he'd sent Sammy the screenshots he'd taken of Pedro Cordova's and Harrison Grimes's identifiers. "Their families reported them missing twenty years ago."

"You think their employment was terminated, and not just in the literal sense?" Brett asked.

"Maybe." Evan continued shifting around the puzzle pieces in his head. "What if they hired these guys to work on the pot farm, but when they started shooting their mouths off in a public place, they became a liability?"

"So they killed them and started using runaway kids to work there?" Janie McNamara, one of the agents from the Wyoming field office asked.

"Kids can be controlled, making them vulnerable. They can essentially be brainwashed and convinced the outside world, including their parents, is evil and to stay away from it." He'd seen it before in child abduction cases.

"Here's the way I see it," Brian said, and from the look on his face, Evan knew where his boss was about to go. "We can connect John and Margaret selling pot at a farmers market in Denver. Noah ID'd this couple as running the camp, but he can't positively ID the location of the camp. He can't even say for certain it was in Wyoming, although I can go with that, based on the eighty-mile-per-hour speed limit sign."

Brian steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "We already have Manello for kidnapping a minor, assault on a minor, and endangering a minor. We can connect him to over a dozen other missing children via his laptop and social media accounts. We can show he's getting paid by Purple Dream, LLC, an offshore company registered in the British Virgin Islands. We have him sending emails with photos of missing kids to Tangier Industries via an India-based email server. Now we have a cryptic email to Manello about hiring help for a harvest, but we still can't connect all the dots, and we still can't prove where these kids are. Which is exactly what a judge will say. To get a warrant, we need more."

As much as he wanted to, Evan couldn't disagree. "Boss, I need that flyover."

Brian sighed heavily. "I've been on the phone all day trying to get you one. So far, no joy. Our closest chopper is down for serious maintenance. I reached out to the Colorado State Patrol, Denver PD, and the Wyoming Highway Patrol. Whoever calls back first gets our business."

Evan shoved a hand through his hair. Outside the military, the FBI had the largest fleet of government aircraft, and there wasn't a single chopper available? No telling how long it would take for outside agencies to respond. "I'll get with Marlie and try to ping Noah's memories of the camp again. Maybe something will come back to him we can use."

"That's it for now, everyone." Brian rose, indicating the meeting was over.

Evan looked at all the photos taped to the boards, including Manello's. Every time he looked at it, he had the weirdest feeling he knew the guy but couldn't place where or when they might have met. If he'd arrested him before, it would have been in his criminal history.

"Got something." Brett tapped on his phone. "Arthur Constantino, the owner of Blue Waters, changed his flight back from Greece. He and his wife are inbound to DIA. ETA in one hour. I arranged for HSI to meet us at the checkpoint."

Hot damn . He didn't think it would get him the remainder of the probable cause he needed, but it was something. He grabbed his phone. A moment later, Deck answered.

"Yo," Deck said. "Tori's holding dinner. You coming over anytime soon?"

"Negative. I'll be later than expected." A lot later.

…

"That's the one." Tori nodded as Marlie turned in front of the oak mirror, getting her first glimpse of the velvet cocktail dress's plunging backline. For that matter, the front of the dress barely covered her breasts. The off-the-shoulder sleeves were the only things keeping it from sliding down her arms.

A knock sounded on the other side of Tori's bedroom door.

"Come in!" Tori called out.

Deck stuck his head in. Instead of looking at Tori, he looked at Marlie. "Evan just called. He—" His jaw dropped. "Wow. Evan's gonna swallow his tongue when he sees you in that dress."

Really? she nearly asked. That wouldn't sound too pathetically needy. The bigger question was, why hadn't he called her directly?

Duh, because this isn't about you . It's about the case. His whole life seemed to be about his job.

"I knew it was the right dress." Tori winked at her as she slipped her arm around Deck's waist. "Now get your tongue back in your mouth."

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned and kissed the top of her head. "My observation was fact-based only."

Tori narrowed her eyes. "Good comeback."

He cleared his throat, now looking at Gemma. "Evan and Brett had to go to the airport for an interview. They don't know what time they'll be done."

Brett's girlfriend shrugged. "I'm used to it by now."

"Ladies. Noah and I will be watching a movie." Deck gave a quick salute as he backed from the room and shut the door.

Marlie looked at herself in the mirror again. "Seriously, I don't know." Given that she'd given all her pretty dresses to Goodwill, she was grateful to Tori for loaning her a dress for the wedding but didn't think she could pull it off the way Tori could.

Gemma propped a pillow behind her on the bed, taking a sip of wine. "Purple is definitely your color."

Marlie snorted. So I've heard . "I'm not sure I can wear this."

"Why not?" Tori parked her hands on her slim hips. "You'll make Evan look good."

"Don't tell Brett I said this"—Gemma lowered her voice to a whisper as she glanced at the door—"but Evan is hot ."

"Gemma, really?" Tori glared at her friend.

"What?" Gemma held her arms wide, the engagement ring on her left hand sparkling.

At learning Brett had popped the question, Marlie had wanted to make an excuse and bolt, but that would have completely derailed the healing process she was determined to keep on track. Running like a frightened rabbit every time someone else experienced joy wasn't the answer.

"Deck is hot, too," Gemma continued, "but of course, I have lust and love in my heart only for Brett. Especially now."

"Thank you for that," Tori said, and they all laughed.

Marlie had to admit she'd done more than her fair share of laughing over the last three hours.

On the way to the FBI office, Evan had dropped her and Noah at Deck and Tori's house for safekeeping. Apparently, word had spread like wildfire that she'd agreed to go to the wedding. The moment they'd finished dinner, Deck had whisked Noah off to his man cave to try on a suit procured from a neighbor, then watch The Pride of the Yankees with Gary Cooper.

Tori and Gemma had made her their personal project, plying her with wine while they did her hair and makeup and she tried on dress after dress. She liked these women, enjoyed talking with them. Aside from Tish, she hadn't had any social interaction with other women in years. Until now, she hadn't realized how much she'd missed it.

Working at North Metro, she already knew Tori was an ER doctor, and a very good one, at that. Over a bottle of wine and baked ziti, she'd learned Gemma was an investigator for the National Insurance Crime Bureau. That, and the woman had a tendency to speak her mind.

Gemma refilled all their glasses, emptying the bottle of Chardonnay. "So, what's it like sleeping with Evan?"

"What?" Marlie had been looking at herself in the mirror, wondering if she could recreate the hairdo and makeup the other women had applied as a test-run. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes were as big as small balloons. "How did you—"

Gemma's mouth fell open on a gasp. "I didn't. I only meant, what's it like sleeping in the same house with him. Not in the same bed ."

"Oh my God." Tori clapped her hands over her mouth.

Marlie squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. Oh my God was right. The women's reactions said it all. What had she been thinking? Even Tori and Gemma knew how ludicrous it was. "I knew it was a mistake. It just happened. I'm sure it was a one-time thing. I don't see it happening again, anyway. Not with an eleven-year-old boy in the same house. I need to make a good impression for him. We can't—" Marlie smacked her hand on her forehead. She was babbling.

"You know," Tori said, "Evan doesn't sleep around. He's never even had a live-in girlfriend. I think you're the first woman to sleep in his house for more than one night."

"I really don't think I fall into the girlfriend category." To say the least and knowing it was true. "Noah and I are only staying there to keep him safe. Noah is essential to Evan's investigation."

"When I first met Brett," Gemma said, tapping a finger on her glass, "I thought he was singularly focused on work, and he was. But he's not even a close second to Evan."

"I could say the same thing about Deck." Tori smiled, the love she had for her fiancé beaming on her face. "However, there's one thing I'm certain of where Evan is concerned. He may need your help with his investigation, but he doesn't need you in his bed for that."

These women had known Evan far longer than she had. As much as she wanted to believe it had been more than just sex, she couldn't ignore the distinct possibility or probability that it had, indeed, been only a one-time shared instance in a moment of emotional duress. But she'd also come to care for him and know him as a kind, thoughtful person, and as a man. A very sexy man.

"Just be careful," Tori added. "We love Evan, but despite what I just said, you should know he really is focused on his job. It's not for us to say, just know there's something in his family history that drives him."

Marlie nodded in understanding. "Every missing child he searches for is a substitute for the sister he never found." And probably never would. Surely, if she were alive, she would have contacted her family by now.

Gemma bolted upright. "He told you about her?"

"Yes." She nodded. "Was it a secret?"

"Not really." Tori shook her head. "It's just that, to our knowledge, he's never told anyone outside our immediate circle."

"Knowing how tight-lipped he is—about everything ," Gemma said, "you might consider that he trusts you and cares enough about you to confide something so personal."

"Maybe it's because I'm a psychologist." A title she hadn't attributed to herself in a very long time. The possibility of volunteering at the Foundation had really gotten her thinking about it again. "Maybe I just knew the right words to make him comfortable enough to confide in me."

"Then it's true." Tori's lips twitched. "You are a doctor."

"How many others at North Metro know?" Surely, Tish wouldn't have told anyone.

"I can't say for sure. I just had a feeling about you."

So much for hiding in plain sight. Then again, she wasn't sure if she wanted to anymore.

Feet—human and canine—pounded up the stairs. Someone knocked on the bedroom door. "Can I come in?" Noah shouted.

The moment Tori opened the door, Deck's Belgian Malinois K-9, Thor, galloped in, followed by Noah.

"What do you think of my suit?" He spun to show her a light-gray suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Marlie's heart swelled with pride. The suit Tori had borrowed from her neighbor's son fit Noah reasonably well. He looked adorable and mature, at the same time.

Thor leaped onto the bed, sloshing wine from Gemma's glass.

"Hey, you big hairball." Gemma swatted Thor's rump. "That was good wine you just spilled."

Thor proceeded to lick the bed cover.

"Wowww." Noah's jaw dropped as he took in Marlie's dress. "You look pretty. Like I told you, you always look pretty, but now you look really pretty."

"Thank you." She held out her arms to hug him and, for the first time, he hugged her back. A real hug. Then he charged out of the room with Thor on his heels, tugging the door shut behind him. At least his manners were improving.

"You've become close with him." Tori retrieved an empty garment bag from her closet and unzipped it. "He's opened up a lot since Evan brought him into the hospital. I was on duty that night."

"He's made a lot of progress," Marlie agreed, sighing. So have I . She had Noah and Evan to thank for that. "I'm going to miss him when he goes to his new foster family." More than she ever expected. A lump grew in her throat, forcing her to swallow it down.

Gemma placed the cocktail dress's matching pumps in a shoebox. "Have you ever thought that maybe you're the right family for him?"

No. She hadn't. Taking care of Noah on this temporary basis had worked out fine, but being responsible for him full time…

The nausea that had rolled through her just over a week ago when she'd had the same thought about becoming Noah's temporary legal guardian didn't come. It was a vindicating, triumphant feeling. But was Evan also capable of making progress with his life? After what he'd confided to her, she worried he wasn't. What if he never could?

"Hey, are you all right?" Tori asked.

She nodded, smiling in a way she didn't feel but determined not to let her fears show. She had to prepare for that inevitability but hoped Evan would prove her wrong.

The way things were going, he was still on a dark, never-ending path that would lead to a solitary life.

One without her in it.