“He’s a trucker,” Luke said, and comprehension dawned. “He’s got Garth wife’s cell phone. Does he have Garth’s wife and kids, too?”
“I’ve got a BOLO out for this guy,” Pete said. “Nothing yet, but if he’s on the interstates, some trooper is going to see him sooner or later.”
“Let’s hope it’s sooner,” Chase said.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to be found,” Mary McCrady said from the end of the table where she’d been silently listening. “If she believes her children are in danger… A mother will go to great lengths to protect her young.”
“It’s possible,” Chase said, “but we won’t know till we find her. What about the mistress, the one who works at the airport?”
“Kira Laneer. I haven’t talked to her yet,” Hank said.
“What about the nurse?” Luke asked. “Have we found anything among her effects?”
“Cell phone, keys, her tracking badge, all in her purse,” Chase said, pointing to a plastic bag on the table. “They’re in there.”
“Only her prints on the phone,” Ed said slowly. “Wait.” He pulled on a pair of gloves and took the nurse’s cell phone from her bag. “There is something. This phone number. She got a call at 8:20 yesterday morning. This incoming call is from the same number Granville called just before everything went to hell on Friday.”
“Granville’s partner,” Chloe said. “He called her. Was he threatening her?”
“ ‘It was Bobby,’ ” Luke quoted softly. “Bobby threatened her, then killed her.”
“So who is Rocky?” Pete asked.
“Could it be the same person?” Nancy asked. “Rocky sounds like a nickname.”
“Here’s the list of Dutton Bobbys,” Chase said, referring to the list Luke had made earlier that evening. “We’ve got Bobbys, Roberts, Bobs, Robs…”
“Pass it over,” Chloe said, then blinked in surprise. “Congressman Robert Michael Bowie? His son, Robert Michael Bowie, Jr. Rob Davis, Garth’s uncle.”
“The congressman’s son’s about the same age as Granville and Mansfield,” Ed said. “I met him when I processed his sister’s room after she was killed by Mack O’Brien. He was cooperative, but then we were investigating his sister’s murder and not his private affairs. The congressman himself is older. Maybe sixty. But he’s in good shape.”
“Good enough to slit the throats of two people half his age?” Nancy said.
“He could have paid someone,” Hank argued.
But Luke was thinking about the Dutton residents he’d reviewed to compile the Bobby list. He’d consciously discarded one name in particular earlier, but now…
“Could Bobby be a woman?” Luke asked, and everyone stilled. “The woman in black killed Kate Davis. She was physically in the bunker. She’s involved.”
“But… Bobby’s a man’s name,” Germanio said.
Luke looked at Pete, whose expression said he’d just come to the same conclusion.
“Mrs. Garth Davis,” Pete said slowly. “Her name is Barbara Jean. Bobby Jean.”
“Ed?” Luke asked. “How tall was the woman in the video?”
“Five-ten with her running shoes on,” Ed said.
“Same as Mrs. Davis,” Pete said.
For a long moment, nobody said anything. Then there was a frantic knocking at the door and a second later it opened, Susannah standing in the doorway, her open laptop in her hands, her eyes bright and energized. “I found her.”
“Who?” Luke said. “Bobby?”
Susannah blinked. “No.”
“Where’s the police artist?” Chase asked.
“Finished,” Susannah said impatiently. “She gave the sketch to Leigh so she could make copies. Dammit, listen to me. I found Jane Doe on the missing kids site.” She put her laptop on the table. “I was looking at girls whose names started with M. Then I thought ‘What if M was a nickname,’ so I started back at the beginning. Here she is, in the Bs.”
Luke squinted at the screen. “She doesn’t look like the girl in ICU.”
“Because she weighs thirty pounds less and her face is all bruised up. I told you your people wouldn’t recognize her based on what she looks like now. But I saw her eyes, Luke. She looked up at me in the woods and I saw her eyes. This is the girl. Her middle name is Monica. M. Look. Beatrice Monica Cassidy.”
“Excellent work, Susannah,” Chloe said.
“There’s more. I Googled her.” She toggled to another screen and Luke stared.
“Amber alert,” Luke said. “Her sister Eugenie Cassidy was abducted from Charlotte sometime between Friday at midnight and Saturday at eight a.m. The contact is Special Agent Harry Grimes. Was Charlotte a point on Mansfield’s map, Nancy?”
“Yes. Mansfield marked a route to Port Union, South Carolina, south of Charlotte.”
Susannah looked around the table. “Well? What are you waiting for? Call him. I’m going to the hospital.” She started to move, but Luke gently grabbed her arm.
“Wait.” From the pile of photos on the table, Luke found stills of the woman in black and Mrs. Davis. His jaw tightened as he saw what he hadn’t seen before. “Look.”
Susannah went still. “It’s her. Her mouth is the same shape. It was so red, I saw it through the lace. But… this is Barbara Jean Davis, Garth’s wife. Oh,” she breathed. “Bobby Jean. She was in Dutton yesterday morning. She never ran away.”
“Look closer,” Luke said. “Look at her eyes.”
The color in her face drained away. “Her eyes are Daniel’s. Our father’s eyes.”
Chapter Seventeen
Atlanta, Sunday, February 4, 3:00 a.m.
Ella buzzed Susannah and Luke into ICU. “She’s awake.”
“Good.” Susannah looked across the nurses’ station to find Daniel’s room empty.
“He was moved to a monitored care room on the floor,” Ella said. “That’s good.”
“He’s got a guard,” Luke murmured in Susannah’s ear. “That’s better.”
Monica was still intubated, but her eyes were alert. Susannah smiled down at her. “Hey.” When the nurse had gone, she leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Monica.”
Monica’s eyes widened, then filled with tears.
“Sshh,” Susannah soothed. “We know who you are.”
Frantically Monica blinked her tears away.
“Can you hold a pencil?” Luke asked.
“She’s still not moving her hands,” Susannah said, worried. “Let’s use the letter board. Luke, if you point, I’ll watch her blink. Monica, do you know who took the girls?”
Between them, the process moved quickly. “My sister,” Luke said, when Monica stopped blinking. “You know about your sister?” he asked her.
Monica began blinking again.
“Nurse said they took her. Picture.” Luke gently squeezed her other hand. “The nurse took a picture or she showed you a picture?”
“Cell phone.”
“There weren’t any pictures on the nurse’s cell,” Luke said, “but she could have deleted them. I’ll have the phone sent to Forensics. Maybe they can recover the file.”
“Genie still missing?”
“I’m afraid so, honey,” Susannah said, and Monica flinched even as her eyes filled.
“They called her Honey in the catalog we found on Mansfield’s computer,” Luke said.
“Beatrice Monica,” Susannah said, wiping at Monica’s eyes as tenderly as she could. “Honey Bea. Oh, Monica, you must have been so scared.”
“Nurse drugged me. Couldn’t kill me. Didn’t want me talk.”
Luke frowned. “How?”
“Paralyzed.”
Susannah met Luke’s eyes over Monica’s bed. “That’s why she didn’t move.”
“A paralytic will wear off in time,” Luke said. “Monica, did you see Bobby?”