Page 11 of Sinful Reality

“The only saving grace in all this is that the perp must have a connection to these kids.He must,” I press, if only to convince myself. “For him to know them well enough to know their mothers’ marital statuses means their paths crossed at some point. Once the detectives find that crossover, it’ll all unravel.” Frustrated, I leave my coffee behind and snatch up the towel still on the floor. “I’m gonna go blow dry my hair. It’ll take me half an hour to get the moisture out enough that I don’t freeze on my way to work.”

“Mmhm.” He sips again and folds his arms, his head and body stock-still, but his eyes following my movements. “I’ll walk you to the office. I’ve got nowhere else I need to be until nine, so…”

So I don’t get to argue.

Got it.

ARCHER

“Don’t even ask me about Booth.” Fletch stomps through the war room door and slams it shut behind him, only to stop and stare at the wall I’ve already prepared. At the photographs of little girls a mere one year older than his own daughter. The case files a single phone call with Sophia-the-one-we-don’t-ask-favors-of provided. She had them already, I suppose. Compiled, alphabetized, and loaded into zip files. So attaching them to an email and sending them to me is a small favor at best.

I hope.

“Uh…” Stunned, Fletch searches the room. “Not Booth?”

“Booth is old news. Moving on.”

“We got a new case?” Confused, he hobbles to the table and picks up one of the files from the early two-thousands. Aysha Quintana. “You jumped into the cold cases already? What the fuck, Malone? Give a man time to get his breakfast sandwich down before you start on your shit.”

“Not a cold case. Well…” I turn and pick up my third coffee.Fourth? “It’sacold case, though it’s not ours. But I think we caught a break on the Danika Smith case. We can discuss that one, too.”

“Danika?” He sets Aysha’s file down and plants his hands on his hips. “I’m so fuckin’ confused. You’re not running a cold case, butyou are, but Danika Smith is a twenty-three-year-old missing person’s file we were working on, what…” He checks his watch, though fuck knows why. “Eighteen months ago? We say the boyfriend did it, but the evidence isn’t there, so he walks, and she’s still missing. But you’vealsotacked pictures of little girls on the wall, none of whom are Danika, and I just…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve had too much caffeine, bro.”

“Danika is our file,” I agree, sipping and knowing he’s right.I’ve had too much. “We couldn’t press charges because we never found a body, and the dude’s alibi was too tight. We’re heading to Copeland Correctional in an hour or two,” I check the clock on the wall and nod, “as soon as the warden calls and confirms the meet, to talk to a guy about her missing body.”

“He knows where it is? How’d you find him?”

“Warden found us, actually. I got here and had a message in my inbox, so I’m setting that up. But in the meantime: Janiesa Sawyer,” I turn and tap the girl’s photograph on the board. “Five years old. Little girl was snatched out of a park in New York earlier this month.”

His eyes narrow, then widen. Narrow, then squint.

“Since when are we crossing state lines and running cases that have absolutely nothing to do with us?”

“Since now, except we’re not running the case. In fact, head investigators have no clue we possess these files.”

“Oh, good.” He yanks out a scarred faux leather chair and slumps to take the weight off his bad leg. “So we’re actively looking to annoy some folks. I love when we do that.”

“Diane Philips.” I point at her next and watch as the lights finally flicker on in his mind. “I’ve mentioned her before.”

“Little girl was taken in…” He counts back in his mind. “Ninety-something.”

“Taken in ‘98. Dumped in ‘99. Lorni May was picked up in ‘99 and dumped in 2000.”

“A new case every year for seventeen years,” he confirms. “Yeah, I remember now. Never caught. Now he’s quiet.”

“Wasquiet.” I point to Janiesa again. “Until January eleventh this year. Seventeen days ago, this little girl was taken and hidden somewhere,and as it stands, no one has any fucking clue where that stash house is. Lead detective has an entire task force at his disposal, plus the now-retired former lead detective to draw upon. They’re running a tight ship, as far as I can see, but the girl is still missing, and no one has turned up a lead yet.”

“And so…” He scrubs a hand over his stubbled chin. “We have so much free time, you figured you’d volunteer our services?”

“No. But my wife is currently brewing a stomach ulcer and a lot of bad ideas, sincethesecases,thisguy,” I hold his stare and wait for him to understand, “made her who she is today. Every spare minute I have between now and when that cocksucker is behind bars, I’m spending it looking at these files and searching for a break in the case. Figured, since you’re on the bench and all that…”

He rolls his eyes and leans forward to snag a file. “The FBI should be on this one. You know that, right?” Still, he sets his ankle on the opposite knee and rests the manilla file on his thighs. “Maybe you should call Micah and see what information he has, considering his, uh…” He clears his throat, “connections.”

“FBI is running their own case. NYPD, too. It’s a race to see who gets the collar.”

“And now you wanna strap up and run, too?”

“No, I just don’t want Minka to kill herself obsessing over it. Danika’s file is up to date and not moving until we’re done at Copeland Correctional. I’m hoping we’ll get enough to close it up, but for the next hour or two…”

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