Page 11 of Concealed in Death

“Yes. You’re working with Garnet DeWinter.”

“Apparently.”

“I know her a little. An interesting woman, and unquestionably brilliant.”

“I keep hearing the second part. She stole a dog.”

“What?” Mira’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, then knitted in curiosity. “Whose dog? Why?”

“I don’t know. I just did a run on her. She’s got an arrest for stealing a dog.”

“That’s... odd. In any case, her reputation in her field is exemplary. She’ll help you find out who they were. May I sit?”

“Oh, yeah. Let me...” There were visitors and there were visitors. Eve scooped the coat off the chair, then gestured to her desk. “Take that one. This one’s brutal.”

“I’m aware.” And because she was, Mira took the desk chair.

“Do you want some of that tea of yours? Or coffee?”

“No, thanks. I—oh, I love the sketch.”

Rising again, Mira walked over to admire the sketch of Eve, in full kick-ass mode.

“Yeah, it’s good. Ah, Nixie Swisher did it for a school project or assignment. Something.”

Little Nixie, who’d survived, by chance, luck, fate, the brutal and bloody home invasion that had killed her entire family.

“It’s wonderful. I didn’t realize she was so talented.”

“I think she got an assist from Richard.”

“Regardless, it’s excellent, and captures you. She’d be so pleased you put it in here.”

“I told her I would on Thanksgiving, when she gave it to me. Anyway, it reminds me. Even when the worst happens, when you think you can’t take another step you can. You can survive.”

“I only saw her briefly when Richard and Elizabeth brought the children to New York, but I could see she’s done more than survive. She’s begun to thrive.”

She turned away, glanced at the board again. “They never will.”

“No. The preliminary indicates the victims cross ethnic lines,which means it’s unlikely they shared coloring or facial resemblance. That leaves age and possibly body type as physical links. My first instinct,” Eve continued as Mira sat again, “at this point, is the ages of the victims were more important to their killer.”

“Young, probably not fully developed physically or sexually.”

“And small in stature, which would indicate even those who may hit the top of the age scale may have, and likely did, appear younger. Again, on the preliminary, there was no sign of violence immediately before death. Any sign of it was well before death, and healed.”

“Yes, I saw in the preliminary prior abuse suspected on several of the victims. Young girls already used to violence,” Mira said, “don’t trust easily. Given the nature of the building during the most probable time frame, they, or some of them, might have been runaways.”

“I’ve started a search using Missing Persons reports. It’s—” Eve glanced over when her computer signaled. “That should be it. Computer, number of results.”

Three hundred seventy-four unresolved reports on subjects fitting the criteria.

“So many,” Mira said, but from her expression, the number didn’t surprise her any more than it did Eve.

“Some of those are kids who poofed—of their own accord. Slid through the cracks, got themselves new ID.”

“Some,” Mira agreed, “but not most.”

“No, not most. It’s possible we’ll find our vics among these. Certainly we should find some of them. Then again, not every parent or guardian bothers to file a report when a kid goes missing. Plenty are just fine with it if a kid takes off.”

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