Page 70 of Knot Innocent

If I can find her, we will work together again. Hunt pedophiles, make French pastries, fuck like rabbits, and do whatever she wants for the rest of her life. Only if you find her alive.

Shaking off the doubts, I skim over the board at the senders’ names and then open each one, beginning with the oldest.

All of the messages start out basically the same. Are you still looking for a daddy? I’ll give you a good time. I read every line of every sick message from these bastards wanting to fuck a kid. The longer it goes on, the harder it is to remain calm until I finally reach the end.

One sender stuck out among the others, his messages beginning like the rest but quickly turning dark. You’re not playing with me, are you?... Teasing little bitch…, and finally, Ready or not, here I come.

Isolating this guy’s messages, I pull up Birdie’s monster directory, as she calls it, and search for the username. Cooper zeroes in on the screen.

“Who’s this?” Cooper demands, pointing at the collection of messages.

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

The search in Birdie’s database returns a single entry. Based on what I’ve seen of many others, this one only contains a fraction of the information she usually records. The system shows a name, address, and a note of Birdie’s observations.

Cooper leans in close, reading Birdie’s comment on the guy. “‘Likes to talk dirty to girls but shows no willingness to entertain face to face meet.’ We’ll see about that.”

He pulls a handheld radio from his jacket and keys up. “Dispatch, I need info on Stephen Hiller. One twelve Hickory. Berkley.”

The radio goes on the desk, and Cooper leans over again, studying the other names and info on the list. “Birdie doesn’t miss. How did she get this guy wrong?”

I can’t answer because I haven’t worked with her long enough to know. Before I can say so, the cop’s radio chirps. “Stephen Hiller. No record. Loan executive at First National. Blue Nissan Maxima.”

My eyes snap to the cop’s. “Blue sedan,” we say at the same time.

He yells into the radio. “Issue a state-wide BOLO. This man is a person of interest in the Crenshaw kidnapping. Send someone to the bank and his house.”

By the time dispatch answers, I’ve dialed Knot. “We have a suspect.”

I recite for him all the information we’ve found, and Cle confirms that she got it. Cooper turns to leave, and I follow, ending the call with Knot. At the front door, Cooper stops me. “You’re not a cop. Leave this to me.”

I lift my hands in mock surrender. “That’s fine. My people will find Hiller before yours do, anyway. I’ll make sure to leave enough of him for you to interrogate.”

“Shit.” Cooper scrubs a hand over his face. “All right, you’re with me but only as a relay with Knot. The other guy can fuck off. I don’t need two of you up my ass.”

I jump in the passenger seat of Cooper’s car just before he squeals out of the driveway. “Where are we headed?” I ask.

“The bank is closed by now. Our best chance is to catch him at home.”

Five minutes into the breakneck trip, my phone rings. “Laurent,” I answer, placing the call on speaker.

“It’s Knot. Hiller wasn’t at work today. His wife reports that he didn’t come home last night. Cle and Squid are looking into financials, but nothing’s popping.”

“Damn, you people move fast,” Cooper mumbles.

“Have them run his cards through the florist’s system,” I say.

“I had Squid do that first. Nothing came up, but he could have paid cash. I’ll get a picture of Hiller to the owner.”

“Let me handle that,” Cooper barks. “They’ll be more inclined to help if a badge asks.”

No one else offers any updates, but I don’t end the call right away. Speaking to any and all that can hear, I plead, “Please find Hiller.” I don’t even care that I’m practically begging at this point.

“Everyone I know is doing all we can to find her,” Knot promises. “Birdie means as much to me as she does to you.”

“I know, Boss.”

The call ends, and I focus out the window at the landscape flying by, listening as Cooper yells out orders for various search warrants. The radio chatter is nearly constant, but I block it out in favor of my frayed nerves.

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