“Positive,” Boss soothed. “Will you relax?”
The Agent snorted. “I’ll relax when I’m in Mexico. They were so close. So very close. Crystal’s dead by now. I need to know how soon before you can induce labor with the girl furthest along? Veronica.”
“Not for a while. She’s only thirty weeks.”
He cursed. “This place isn’t nearly as secure as the last one.”
“But we won’t need as much security as we used to. We’ve only got two girls now.”
The Agent paced. “That’s right, but I’ve got one more to take care of.”
“What do you mean?” Anger coated Boss’s tone. “I thought you agreed we needed to get out of here.”
“We’re taking these two. What’s one more? I’ll have her here tonight.”
“No! Absolutely not. You’re pushing it and it’s not necessary.”
“You’re right about that. It’s not necessary. It’s personal. And it’s as simple as that.”
Jenna checked her text messages. Danny again. Pushing to meet her. Checking to make sure she wasn’t backing out. Part of her really wanted to. But . . .
Insecurity ate at her.
Her phone vibrated once again. Flipping over on her back, she stared at the light fixture in her room. One lightbulb was out. Her life was like that. Part of it dark and hidden, the other part looking brighter, better. She’d actually had fun with her dad earlier today.
Sighing, she flipped open her phone and answered. “Hi, Patty.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Lying on my bed, staring at my ceiling, thinking about what I want to do.”
“Hmm. Sounds completely fascinating. Now, come downstairs and let me in.”
Jenna bolted into a sitting position. “What? You’re here?”
“That would be why I need you to open the door.”
“Very funny. I’m coming.”
Jenna trotted down the steps. “Grandma? Grandpa?” They must be taking their midafternoon walk and had locked the door behind them. Her father’s warnings echoed in her head, and for a brief moment she wondered if she should go after them and remind her grandparents that they might be safer inside.
But it wouldn’t do any good. They were old and set in their ways. Too many cops in the family for them to be scared of much. Although Andrew’s death had shaken them up.
Not enough to stay inside, though.
Of course they had their own shadow who was probably walking somewhere behind them keeping an eye on things.
She flipped the lock and opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Wondering what you’re doing hanging around this place on a Saturday when we could be having fun.”
Patty stepped inside and shut the door behind her. Jenna could see her own protection sitting in the car parked next to the curb. Patty had clearance to come up to the house. Anyone without authorization would be stopped. And if Jenna left, she would be followed.
But there were ways around that.
“I’m . . . debating.” Jenna turned to lead the way back up to her room.
“About?”
“Whether or not to go meet Danny tonight . . . or, um, do something else.”
“What? You have a meeting set up with Danny?”
Jenna winced at the squealed question and wiggled a finger in her ear. “Chill, Patty.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Patty flung herself across Jenna’s bed, dramatic flair oozing from her. “I’m your best friend and you tell me nothing. You’re so not fair.”
Jenna slapped her friend’s leg. “Oh stop. I’m still trying to decide what to do. There’s a psycho killer out there, remember?”
“Hmm. True. But what are the odds of this guy that you’re meeting being the one killing girls?”
“Maybe higher odds than I’m willing to gamble with. Maybe I should ask my dad. See what he thinks. He might even be willing to go with me. Well, not tonight because of this stupid case, but maybe I could postpone it until he could, you know, check this guy out with me.”
Patty burst out laughing. “Your dad? Your dad? Mr. Straight-laced, stick-in-the-mud, ‘Jenna, if you leave this house you’re grounded’ dad?”
Anger pinched Jenna. “Careful, you might rupture something. And yes, my dad. He took me driving today and he’s letting me get my license on Monday after school.”
Sobering, Patty sat forward. “For real?”
“Yep.”
“Oh. Wow. Well, that’s great.”
“Yeah, it is. Anyway, back to this meeting thing. I’m just going to text Danny and tell him I want to . . . postpone it until next week. I’ll just tell him something came up unexpectedly and I can’t meet him.”
“You don’t think you’re blowing your big chance here?”
Jenna sighed. “I don’t know.” She walked to the window and looked out. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe if I cancel, I’ll be messing everything up.”
“Well, it’s up to you, but I want to meet this guy.”
“Did you hear back from him?”
Patty gave a small pout. “No, that’s why I want to go with you to see him. Maybe if he sees what he’s missing out on, he’ll give me a chance.”
23
In the precinct conference room, Connor slapped the thick folder down on the table in front of him. “Crystal Bennington died in the ambulance. This is the background information for every person in the Physicians Associates office. I feel pretty sure Crystal was our connection, but we have to check the rest of them.”
Dakota shook his head. Samantha sighed and wilted in her seat. The other three officers shifted, anticipation eating them.
“Pass it on over and we’ll get started,” a young female officer volunteered. The others nodded. Each one wanted to be responsible to find the clue that would bring this case to a satisfying conclusion.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Connor narrowed his eyes on the rest of them. “All right, people, we moved too slow. They got away. Didn’t leave much evidence other than a dead body and the fact that something hinky is going on.”
“You mean evil,” Samantha spat. “They’re selling babies. Custom-made babies, if you ask me.”
Connor nodded. “That they are.”
“They’re using these girls, breeding them, then killing them like stray animals.” She shuddered.
“This sicko needs to be stopped and stopped yesterday,” Dakota stated, arms crossed in front of him, jaw tight, Stetson riding low on his forehead.
“Who owns that property again?” Connor asked.
Dakota looked at the file. “A guy by the name of Marshall Sykes.”
“Did he have anything to say about the renters?” Sam shifted as Connor paced.
“Just that they were outstanding occupants. Paid the rent on time, never any disturbances, etc. Said there was a woman who took care of the horses and did most of the chores around there. Danny would come and go during all hours of the night and day, but Mr. Sykes thought that he was working swing shift and whatnot.”
“Swing shift, right. More like the graveyard shift,” she muttered.
“All right, I want to go talk to this lawyer and see what he’s got to say about his client.” Connor sighed, disgust written on his features at the miss. “We almost had him.”
“I know.” Samantha stood and laid a hand on his forearm. “We’ll get him. He’s leaving a trail to follow now. We’re close enough to make him scared, to send him running. He’s going to trip up somewhere, and when he does, we’ll be there.”
“Let’s go.”
Dakota handed a folder to Connor on his way out. “Here, I think you’ll find this interesting reading.”
Connor took it and led the way out of the office, down the steps to the car and doing a quick check-in with Jenna on the phone. She assured him she was fine and he made her promise to be careful once again.
“Da-a-ad . . .” She drew the word out into three syllables.
“W
hat time are you leaving for the campout?”
“In a couple of hours.”
“Where are Mom and Pop?”
“They went for a walk with their shadow. Now they’re downstairs watching some stupid game show.”
“Be nice.”
“Bye, Dad. See you when I get back.”
“Bye, Jenna.” He hung up and shook his head.
“Sounds like things are a bit better between you guys,” Samantha noted.
He gave a small smile. “Yeah, I think so. Not perfect by any means, but at least we’re taking steps forward. She didn’t hang up on me this time.”
“I’m happy for you, Connor.”
“Thanks.” Her soft eyes lured him like a siren song. Tempted to say something, to express his growing admiration for her, he stopped short. Instead, he passed her the keys. “Here, you drive while I read.”
He opened the passenger door and settled himself into the seat. Once Samantha had her belt fastened and the car started, he pushed aside personal feelings and said, “It’s Saturday. I’m guessing our lawyer friend isn’t in his office today.”
“Probably not. What’s his home address?”
He gave it to her and raised his brows. “Ve-e-ery nice.”
Ten minutes later, Samantha understood what he meant by very nice. A white-columned, brick three-story house sat on an elevated hillside. The guard at the gated entrance had let them through once Connor flashed his badge.
“Wow.”
“Well, he’s a lawyer, I guess he can afford it.”
“I guess. Anything on his background?”
“Not much, nothing criminal anyway.” He slid her a look. “But get this, he handles most of the adoptions around here for affluent couples.”
Samantha felt anticipation curl in her belly. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Crystal was the fertility expert. She could do whatever necessary to make sure the girls got pregnant. She could also deliver the babies relatively easy. Mr. Abbott here would handle the rest. You think it’s possible he could actually be involved in all this?”
She parked on the street and gazed up at the house, admiring the clean lines and manicured lawn.
Connor gave her a sardonic look. “I think we’ve got missing babies and a lawyer’s name found in the house of a woman involved with our missing girls. I don’t think assuming this guy’s involved is a stretch.”
“I agree.”
“In fact, I’m going to see if I can get a search warrant on his files, home and office. You think between the two of us we can keep him talking long enough for Dakota to track down a judge and get a signature and a team over here?”
“Sure. He’s getting Crystal Bennington’s financial records and everything else. No reason he can’t handle that too. Let me give him a quick call.” She pulled out her phone and made the call. Dakota agreed to get on it and she hung up. “All right, let’s see what we can do.”
They climbed from the car and headed up the front walk. Samantha rapped on the door and waited. “What if he’s not home?”
“He’s home. I had a guy keeping an eye on him ever since we found that receipt.”
Admiration for him bloomed. It was obvious that he loved his job even though he hated the reason for it. The same way Samantha felt about hers. However, he was also very, very good at what he did. She understood his drive, his dedication. She smiled to herself. Just something else they had in common.
“What?”
She’d been staring at him. Samantha blinked. “Oh, sorry, I was just thinking.”
“About?”
“Tell you later.”
Sounds from behind the door caught her attention. They waited. Finally, the door swung open. A classy lady in her late forties stood there. She raised a brow. “May I help you?”
“Detective Wolfe and Special Agent Cash. Are you Mrs. Abbott?”
Her chin lifted a notch. “I am.”
“May we speak with your husband, please?”
She paused as though considering sending them on their way. Then she raised a professionally arched brow, drew in a deep breath, and stepped back, allowing them entry into her spectacular home.
Samantha looked around and couldn’t help the thought that it was entirely possible blood money had bought the expensive oriental rug she now stood on. And everything else in the exquisite house.
Without another word, Mrs. Abbott turned and led them to a very tastefully decorated sitting room. “I’ll get Jefferson. He’s out by the pool.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Connor said to her retreating back. He offered a shrug to Samantha who wrinkled her nose.
Five minutes later, Jefferson Abbott entered the room, a white robe thrown over his bathing suit. In his early fifties, a little on the heavy side, he had an aura of wealth around him. From the perfectly manicured nails to his freshly combed, professionally styled gray hair.
Holding out a hand to Connor, he said, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
Samantha repressed the impulse to roll her eyes, then chastised herself. The man was innocent until proven guilty. She looked closer. He actually looked like a very nice man. Nothing slimy or anything that said “I’m a sleazebag.”
Hmm.
She acquiesced to Connor taking the lead. He once again introduced the two of them and asked, “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”
“Certainly. Come, have a seat, and tell me what’s going on.”
Everyone sat, including Jefferson Abbott in his wet bathing suit. Of course the couch was leather, so she supposed it didn’t matter. Samantha twisted her hands together and crossed her legs.
Connor leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We’re investigating the cases involving the missing girls. The ones who are turning up dead.”
The man never flinched, although he did frown, an expression of sympathy crossing his face. Then he raised his brows. “What does that have to do with me?”
Connor reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a copy of the receipt they’d found at Crystal Bennington’s house. “Does this look familiar?”
The lawyer studied the paper and frowned. “Yes, it does. I mean the receipt came from my office, obviously, but I can’t imagine what it was for.”
“Well, it was for $50,000. That’s a pretty large amount of money. What do you do that costs that much?”
“I just told you, I don’t know. Although it’s pretty odd,” he muttered as he narrowed his eyes on the piece of paper, “because on all of our receipts we reference what services the money is for in this column here. But this one doesn’t have that. Just the amount owed and the name of the client.”
“That’s correct.” Connor didn’t say a whole lot, a tactic used to try to keep the man talking. See if he would trip himself up.
“I remember the couple, though. Mr. and Mrs. Michael Steadwell. They adopted a baby through our agency.”
“We plan to talk to them next,” Connor said as Mrs. Abbott reentered the room carrying a tray holding a coffee carafe and three mugs.
Jefferson smiled at his wife. “Thank you, dear.” He poured the coffee as he talked. “Nice people. They wanted a baby desperately, but couldn’t conceive for various reasons. Within three months of them filling out the forms, I had a baby for them. Another happy ending. Something we try to specialize in.” Satisfaction radiated from him.
Samantha shifted, but took the proffered coffee. Something was still off. “But that much money. What would it have been for?”
“Different things. Fees, hospital expenses for the birth mother. Possibly even some living expenses. It’s not unheard of for adoptions to cost up to a hundred thousand dollars. We don’t just wait for mothers wanting to give up their babies for adoption to come to us. We actively seek them out, recruit them, offer these women—sometimes young girls who’ve been kicked out of their homes—a safe place to live and a reason to choose adoption over abortion. Our clients are willing to pay for the proactive measures we tak
e when it comes to locating a child for them. We do a very good service here.”
“I’m not saying you don’t.” Samantha switched topics but couldn’t help wondering if his proactive measures included kidnapping teen girls and forcing them into surrogate motherhood. “How do you know Crystal Bennington?”
“I don’t believe I recognize that name.”
Samantha nearly ground her teeth in frustration, but kept a pleasant expression on her face as she stared into his eyes. No guile there. “Hmm. Well, this receipt was found in her house, and we’d really like to figure out how it got there.”
“I’m sorry I’m not much help, but I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Connor sighed. The doorbell rang and Mrs. Abbott excused herself to answer it. Samantha figured that it was probably Dakota with the search warrant.
She turned back to Jefferson. Unfortunately, she halfway believed the smooth-talking lawyer. “Is there anyone else with access to those receipts?”
He laughed. “Sure, anyone in the office.”
Great.
“Darling, there are more police here with a search warrant.” She looked mildly irritated.
For the first time since they’d knocked on his door, anger showed on Mr. Abbott’s face. “What’s this? A search warrant? What for?”
“Your files, sir.”
“All you had to do was ask.”
“We figured you’d claim client confidentiality.”
The man sighed and rubbed his neck. “Yes, I probably would have.” Then he shrugged. “I don’t have anything to hide, regardless. Here, follow me.”
He led the way back to his office. Connor nodded and the search began. Samantha stepped back out of the way and watched the proceedings.
Jenna finished the text, shut her phone, and tossed it on the bed next to Patty. She was going camping. Getting away from it all. The fear, the depression, the constant worry about her dad. All of it. At least for the next twenty-four hours. She packed her backpack, grabbed her sleeping bag and a pillow, and ignored Patty’s whining.
“Jenna, come on. Don’t do this. Let’s go meet this guy.”
“I’m going camping, Patty. You can come too, you know.”
Too Close to Home Page 22
