Page 42 of Rescuing Sara

Kristopher’s smile held no trace of humor. “Let me tell you a little about my family,” he began. “My mom is an OB-GYN MD who treats a lot of young girls in underserved communities and has delivered more than her share of babies for teenage moms. My dad is a Ph.D. Sociologist studying rural cultures, especially their youth. He wrote a book few years ago on the phenomenon of around the world men taking child brides. It’s in more places than you would think, including America, and in some places the younger the better. As young as nine years old who can become mamas as young as eleven or twelve.”

Horror brought Danni into an upright position from where she’d been snuggled against Patrick’s shoulder. “Kristopher,” she gasped. “Are you saying Sara and Robin were sold to be breeders? Dear God, it sounds like something out ofThe Handmaid’s Tale.”

He shrugged. “I’m just putting together some facts to make a theory.”

“But how would this fit into Leo Anderson being killed?” Patrick asked. “Even if the target was always Danni…”

“Was Leo helping with Sara’s case?” Kristopher asked.

“He volunteered to do it,” Danni said sadly. “He usually worked Major Crimes. Cases involving children is Special Crimes. I think he wanted to help because he knew Sara was my goddaughter.”

“Could Leo have gone looking at old case files about missing kids?”

“Oh my God.” Danni covered her eyes. “Maybe it was the Larsen Case he asked me about right before he died and if my father ever mentioned it. But that doesn’t make any sense either. Dad worked in Vice, not Special Crimes and Leo has always worked in Major Crimes. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It did to someone,” Patrick said softly. “Someone knew Leo was looking at the old files and for some reason, The Larsen case got his attention. They suspected he found something and erased the file.”

Danni pointed at the board again and a growing anger started a tremor in her voice. “And Sara and Robin got into that black Honda because there was someone inside it that they knew. Someone they trusted. Mrs. M. and I both would have skinned Sara alive if she got into a car with a stranger, and she knew it.”

“Danni, I know you’ve had a hell of a day, and I hope this doesn’t make you sick, but I’m going to show you one more thing.

He reached up to flip the wipe board to its other side. Someone had sketched a large map of Tennessee, divided into its three regions. In Eastern Tennessee, there were numbers listed in certain areas and color photos of young girls.

“After the news broke about Robin Masters, I started to wonder how many other girls her and Sara’s age were missing across the state,” he said. “Then I broke it down into just Eastern Tennessee.

“Those twelve photos are of all the girls that have vanished in the past twelve months with their birthdates and dates they went missing. Do you see anything that grabs your attention?”

Danni went to examine the board close up. “They were all within two months of their eleventh birthday,” she said. “I must be more tired than I realized. What does that signify?”

“My OB-GYN mom says a lot of girls are starting to get their periods as young as eleven these days.” Kristopher came to stand beside her. “If these girls were snatched to become breeders, then we’re looking at a very sick bunch of people. Is it The Cadre? We know what they do, so maybe. Is it someone within La Belle Monde working with The Cadre? Maybe. I sent all this to Miller and Captain Haggerty to see if there’s anything they can do with it.”

Danni threw her arms around him and pressed her face against his shoulder. He was far leaner than Patrick but she could still feel a strength there.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re right. It’s creepy. It’s sick, but it makes sense.”

“Anything to help,” Kristopher said. “And now, I’m going to go clean up what we left behind.”

He ambled to the kitchen with the ease of man who had just spent a pleasant evening among friends and not one who had laid out a theory of brutality against children.

“Wow,” Danni said, watching him go. “We’ve been so busy that I’d never thought about sitting down and putting everything we’ve learned in some kind of order.”

Patrick came to stand beside her. “What do you think we need to do next?”

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” she said. “I hate to interrupt Sergeant Miller’s Sabbath or Captain Haggerty’s–”

“Let’s give them until noon,” Patrick suggested. “If we’ve not heard from them, we’ll do a follow up call. They may have taken this info and run with it, but I hope they’re getting some rest. Like you need to do.”

“I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “That beef stew really relaxed me. And that cornbread is the best I’ve ever tasted. Did you learn to do that at La Varenne?”

“No, from my grandmother,” he said. “Who was from Kentucky.”

She yawned and a wave of weariness washed over her. “Goodness, but I’m suddenly tired. That glass of wine made me sleepy. Did you put any in the stew?”

Eyes twinkling, he said, “A good cook never reveals his secrets. But here’s a teaser for you. The question should be how much wine did I put in the stew?”

“I guess,” she murmured. “G ‘night.”

She padded toward the hall and then stopped and looked down at her bare feet. Bare feet! Wheeling about, she said, “Patrick Danton! Did you take off my shoes and socks?”

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