Page 73 of Cold Threat

“No. Nothing like that. There should be pictures, though, and they’re not here. Not sure why.”

River thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose there is any way to contact the surviving members of Michael’s original foster family, is there?”

“I don’t have any information about that,” he said. “I can give you the couple’s names, only because they’ve passed on. Ray might be able to find someone. I really shouldn’t do this. If something comes of it...”

“Just blame it on Ray?”

Donnie chuckled. “Yeah, he knows that’s how it works. I’d really like to help you. I certainly hope whatever’s going on isn’t because of a failure on our part.”

“It certainly wouldn’t be because of you, Donnie. You can only do what you can do. You can’t blame yourself for the mistakes of others.”

“Easy to say, harder to do.” He sighed, and River could hear him shuffling through papers. “Things are a lot easier and faster now with online records.” Finally, he said, “Michael’s original foster family were the Thompsons. Emily and Austin. They lived in Des Moines. Here’s the address of the house where they lived. I think Ray can take it from here.” He read off an address, and River wrote it down. “Got it. Thanks, Donnie. You’ve been a big help.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

River said goodbye and hung up. She looked at Tony. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“I’m guessing Michael and Stacy were removed from their home sometime in the winter, right?”

“Yeah, December.”

Tony shook his head. “Okay, I give in. Let’s finish this profile the best we can, even though it’s no longer an actual profile. Then we’ll tell my dad that we’re pretty sure he’s looking for Michael Wilson. And maybe his sister.”

River could only nod at him. In her gut, she was certain they no longer had an UNSUB. They had a suspect.

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

They’d just completed compiling what they’d learned when Tony’s cell phone rang. It was his father. Tony quickly recounted their meeting with Donnie and gave him the name of the foster family Michael Wilson had lived with.

“What time will you get home?” he asked after that. Once he heard his father’s response, he told him about the car they’d spotted outside. “I’m not saying it has anything to do with us, but it seems strange. Can you check it out when you get here?”

Tony was quiet for a minute and then said goodbye. He disconnected the call and looked at River. “Dad’s going to look for any family members connected to the foster family Michael lived with. As soon as he’s done, he’s coming home. He’s going to check out that car parked down the street.”

River got up and walked over to the window, carefully drawing back the curtains. “It’s still there,” she said. The car’s exhaust looked like thick smoke in the icy night air.

“Dad will figure out if it’s anything to worry about.”

“Good.” River yawned. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well the past couple of nights.”

“Me either.”

“Do you want to address the elephant in the room?” River asked.

“That we’re proving we make pretty good private investigators?”

“But poor behavioral analysts?”

“Not necessarily,” he said. “I guess that remains to be seen. The truth is, even though we’re convinced Michael Wilson is the Snowman, we still can’t prove it. And we don’t know how to find him.”

“This is where we need to put the brakes on. It’s time to turn everything over to your dad. We’re done.”

“You’re right,” he said. “Hey, I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I don’t think supper will be ready until six. I’m going downstairs to see what I can find. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat a couple of your mom’s cookies.”

“Coffee?”

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