by Mary Birk
She really didn’t see any other similarities, but she could tell by glancing at Harry that he saw something. She thought harder, not willing to give up. “Except for all being Caucasian, they don’t look alike—different hair colors and styles. Different heights.” Susan Clark was tall, almost flat-chested and had auburn hair and clear green eyes, whereas Kristen Daly was dark-haired, medium height, slender, but with remarkably large breasts.
The Superintendent nodded.
“They were all fairly bonnie.”
She could tell by the Superintendent’s face that wasn’t it, either.
Harry scoffed. “You’d be hard put to find a sixteen-year-old lass that some bloke didn’t consider bonnie.”
“Not every man is as undiscriminating as you when it comes to females, DS Ross.” Instantly she regretted having let him goad her in front of the Super into responding like a schoolgirl to a taunting bully. She tried to go on with some semblance of dignity. “None of them are fat, or spotty, or unattractive—and as I’m not a man, perhaps I’m better able to notice that they weren’t just breathing, which is all that it takes to make females attractive to someone like DS Ross. These girls are pretty. All in different ways, but pretty.”
Harry grinned. “I’ll give you the point, Allison. More discriminating men—maybe like our illustrious guv, here—might have higher standards than I do to find a girl pretty, but then, it would be hard to find a prettier woman than the Mrs. Guv.”
Reid shook his head in amusement. “You’ll get no argument from me on that one, though Allison’s right, they were all nice-looking girls. But that wasn’t what I was focusing on.”
Allison mentally ran through what she knew about the missing girls again in her mind before giving up. “That’s all I see, guv.”
Harry sat quietly, not volunteering anything else. He filled his mug with tea from the thermos on the credenza that lined one side of the room, then came back to the table.
Reid looked at him. “Harry?”
Harry took a drink of his tea before he spoke. “None of these three girls got their posts through an agency. That means not only that the families were cutting corners, but that there was no safety net like you’d have when there’s an agency involved. An agency would be concerned about an au pair of theirs going missing, not just for the au pair and her family’s sake, but also for the agency’s sake. There’s no one who’ll be upset that they’ll have to refund the hefty fee the family would have paid, and likely would have demanded back. All around, less of a noise if these girls go missing.”
Allison felt a grudging respect for Harry’s catching the point that she’d missed.
Reid nodded. “Right. These girls weren’t picked randomly off the streets. They were targeted specifically because their going missing wouldn’t raise much of a ruckus—except with their own families. And because the hiring families cut corners, they wouldn’t be too inclined to call attention to the girls’ disappearances and get in trouble with the Inland Revenue or immigration if things weren’t set up right. Allison, we need to get on to au pair agencies anyway, and tell them to put out a warning to their girls and the families they work for.”
“Yes, sir.” Allison made a note.
The guv went on. “Jack Shelton, who heads the FBI’s Child Abduction Team in Northern California, will be here tomorrow.”
Harry grunted as if something had crawled up his throat. What was that about?
Reid gave him an amused glance. “Not surprisingly, he’s coming to alleviate his agency’s concerns about the lack of attention up until now about what looks to be the targeting of American citizens who meet a certain demographic.”
“Guv, if the cops over here didn’t put it together, and the girls are from different places, how did the FBI figure out that the missing girls might be connected?” Allison had a vague sense the United States was a sprawling, unorganized mass of farm communities with a few big cities sprinkled in, mostly along the coasts.
“Lizzie Frost’s mother contacted the Gundersons after she hadn’t heard from Lizzie. She didn’t buy their theory that Lizzie had just taken off, so she called the local police here, and not happy with their response, called the FBI. When the FBI put the data on Lizzie Frost into their computers, they got two similar reports of American families about their daughters disappearing, all since Christmas, all working as au pairs in or near Glasgow. With Lizzie, now they had three American girls right around Glasgow disappearing in the space of three months.”
“What’s Shelton doing here?”
“He wants to talk to the families the girls worked for, look at what we’re doing, then I expect he’ll go home and leave things in our hands.”
“We don’t need him interfering in our investigation.”
“It’s his investigation, as well.”
Allison’s eyes went to Harry and she saw him pull a face, turning his head away from the guv as he did so. Either he resented the interference on principle, or he knew Special Agent Shelton already. As far as she knew, Harry had never set foot in the States, but maybe Harry had heard things—he had an annoying way of knowing things she didn’t.
She’d have to figure out a way to get him to spill what he knew.
The conference room phone rang, and Frank’s voice on the intercom came through. “Reid, your wife’s on the line. She says she heard something about one of our missing nannies.”
“Thanks. I’ll pick it up.” The Superintendent pushed a button on the phone. “Anne?” He frowned, and listened for a moment before speaking. “We’ll look into it. Thanks.”
After he hung up, he turned back to them. “Anne tells me Peter and Claudia MacTavish’s nanny knew Lizzie Frost, and that Lizzie went to church with the MacTavish family.”
“What’s the nanny’s name?”
“Tabby Low.”
Harry made a note. “Peter never mentioned this?”
“Not a word.”
Harry said, “Maybe we need to put Lady Anne on the payroll.”
Superintendent Reid nodding, pressed his lips together. “You two set up an interview with Tabby Low right away. I’ll talk to the MacTavishes.”
Chapter 6
ALLISON WAITED FOR HARRY to speak after they left the conference room. He sat down at his computer, acting like he didn’t notice her looking at him. Eventually he’d give up. She perched on the old wooden desk he’d claimed as his territory from the truck full of old secondhand furniture Frank finagled to furnish their offices.
Finally, Harry looked away from his computer, which was, like her own, top of the line. The bulk of their budget had been spent on technology, hence the used furniture.
“What is it, sweetcakes?”
“Don’t call me that. Why don’t you like the FBI agent?”
He leaned back on his chair and put his feet up on his desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never even met the bloke.”
She grabbed one of his shoes, giving it a sharp wiggle. “Right, that’s why you get a scowl on your face when the guv mentions him. What do you know?”
“I know you’re a nosy bird.”
“Come on, tell me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“But?”
“I don’t like him coming over here like the F-Bleeding-I has anything to do with us here in Scotland.”
She studied him, shook her head. “That’s not all, I can tell.”
“No.”
“What, then?”
He shrugged. “When the guv’s wife had her troubles in the States, he was no friend to her.”
“So?”
“So, he’s an arse.” He rolled his pen around in his fingers.
“What are you? Her booster club?”
“Don’t be a twat. Tell me what you’re planning to ask the nanny families. We want the big, important FBI man to be impressed, don’t we?”
Allison got to her feet and went back to her own desk—not as large as Harry’s, but with more drawers�
��to get her notes. She resumed her seat on Harry’s desk. “I thought we’d start with how they came to hire the girl, if they got references, things like that.” She looked up at him to see what he thought.
“Better ask for any documents they have to back up what they’re telling you.”
“Right.” She scribbled a note.
“And emails. Don’t forget the electronic stuff.”
“I had that down. We should look at any computers the girls used.”
“Yeah, and all the family computers as well. What else?”
“We should talk to the fathers separately, as well as with their wives. In case they’d had a go at getting the nanny into bed.”
Harry grinned. “I was wondering if you’d think of that.”
“Why did you think I might miss it?”
“No reason.”
She was annoyed. “Yes, there was. What is it?” Had Harry heard stories about her? She knew guys talked, coppers probably worse than others.
“Really, no reason.”
“I’m not naïve. I know what goes on. I’m not a kid. Besides, I’m a cop, Harry.”
“I know, but you’re also a minister’s daughter, sweetcakes.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Besides, even if you did miss asking, your friendly FBI agent would be sure to think of it.”
“Why? Because he’s a man?”
Harry got up and moved toward the kitchen. “I can see I’m not going to say anything right, luv. Your instincts are golden. You don’t need to run your questions by me. I’m going to get a cup of tea.”
Allison couldn’t decide whether she should stick with her indignant pose, or apologize and call Harry back to listen to her interrogation outline. Instead, she followed him to the kitchen.
He switched on the electric kettle and put a tea bag in his cup. He looked at her to see if she wanted a cup. She nodded.
“You’ve run the families to see if any of them have form?” He didn’t seem to require an apology, so she wasn’t going to offer one.
“Yes. None of the local nicks did it, as the girls had all been reported as missing persons, not as being abducted, but it’s being done right now.”
“Good job.” He rubbed the top of her head and she swatted him.
As much as she was dying to work with an FBI agent, Allison would’ve been more comfortable doing the interviews with Harry. She was used to him, and she trusted him to remember things she might forget. But it was good to have to rely on herself, to show that she could do it without him.
He took another mug for her and went to the fridge to get the milk he knew she liked in it. She hopped up on the counter while he made the tea.
“Do you think they’re connected?”
“Don’t you?”
“Three in three months. Definitely.”
He handed her a mug. “One of the things that makes this harder is that none of the girls had any credit cards, or even ATM cards, so we can’t track their movements with credit transactions. They got paid in cash, and none of them used a bank account, so we don’t have any way of tracing what they were doing financially.”
“What are the odds, with so much in common, that the disappearances are completely unrelated?”
“Zilch, to my mind. I can see one American girl acting as a nanny in Scotland get sick to the gills of taking care of a bunch of brats, and disappear, but three in similar circumstances in three months? No.”
“Right.”
“And we have the film showing Lizzie Frost being shoved into a car by a man she just met. Most likely abducted.”
“Most likely? Harry, you can’t think she meant to go away with those people in the Audi? She didn’t look like she knew what was happening.”
“I doubt it, but how do we explain her clothes and suitcase being gone? Same thing with the other two girls. How likely is it that the girls packed their things up themselves to be kidnapped?”
“True enough. That doesn’t make sense.”
“That’d be an area to focus on in your questioning.”
Allison made a note.
“Did you set up the interview with Tabby Low?”
“Yes.”
“For when?”
“This afternoon.”
“Where?”
“Here. She’s bringing the youngest MacTavish kid with her. Luckily, the rest will be in school.”
Harry made a face. “I’ll be sure to be doing something else.”
“You want me to do the interview by myself?”
“I think you can handle a baby minder by yourself.”
“Thanks for nothing. What’re you going to be doing?”
“I’ve plenty on my plate besides helping you get ready to impress an FBI arsehole, sweetcakes.” He put his hand out to help her off the counter.
“I don’t need your help.”
“Fine.”
“And stop calling me sweetcakes, you prick.”
* * * * *
Allison led Tabitha Low into the large conference room. The girl was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt cropped to show off a bare, impossibly flat midriff, although she wore a longer blue blouse over it, hanging open. Long mahogany-toned hair draped almost to her waist. Her jacket was hooked on the back of the stroller along with what looked like a bag of things for the little girl in the stroller.
Tabby lifted the child out of the stroller, displaying a Playboy-Playmate figure as she bent down, then hoisted her on to one slender hip. Allison motioned to leave the stroller, and indicated the conference room door. Allison followed as Tabby sashayed her way across the main room.
The way Tabby walked past Frank and Oscar to the conference room left no doubt in Allison’s mind that Tabby was more than aware of what she looked like. Unfortunately for the girl, the effort she’d put into this performance was wasted as neither Frank nor Oscar even looked at her. Maybe Harry would have given Tabby more of her desired reaction, but true to his word, Harry had disappeared. She’d have to come up with some diabolical way to get revenge on him for deserting her.
When they passed the guv’s office on the way to the conference room, Allison could see him behind his desk through the glass. Tabby saw him, too, and Allison heard a quick intake of breath from the girl. She whispered, “Who’s that?”
“Superintendent Terrence Reid.”
“Wow.” Tabby’s hand went to smooth down her already-perfect hair. “Am I going to be talking to him?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Is he your boss?”
“Yes.”
“He’s gorgeous.”
Allison made a noncommittal sound.
“A little old, but totally gorgeous.”
“He’s married.”
“So?”
“Happily married.”
“Bummer.” Tabby handled her disappointment with sangfroid. “Isn’t that always the way?”
Allison had thought that interviewing the teenager with a rambunctious toddler in tow was going to be a challenge, but that wasn’t going to be her only challenge. Tabby Low was definitely on the hunt for a man, or maybe just for men, in general, and wasn’t very interested in talking to another female.
The first thing Allison did was to play the tape of Lizzie’s abduction, after which Tabby asked, “Are you sure she didn’t want to get in the car? It didn’t look to me like he was forcing her, just helping her in the car.”
“Do you have any reason to believe she knew these people, or that she went with them intentionally?”
“No, except the guy is so totally cute.” Tabby unwrapped a lollipop and gave it to the chubby little girl, who she’d put back into the stroller as soon as they’d entered the interview room. “This will keep Melly quiet for a while. She doesn’t get them very often because she’s a bit of a chunk. Aren’t you, precious? But Melly got lots of exercise this morning with her mother in the park, so she deserves a reward.” Tabby gave the girl a kiss, and the lolly did its job.
The toddler sat quietly sucking on her candy. “I had to get their holiday clothes ready and see what else they needed so Mrs. MacTavish can go shopping before their trip, or I could have come this morning without Melly.”
“Not a problem. Did Lizzie talk to you about leaving her job?”
“No, but I don’t think she liked the family she worked for.”
“She told you that?”
“Not exactly.”
“But?”
“They treated her like a slave. I wouldn’t have stayed there one minute.” Tabby’s face set into an indignant pout, her full lips shiny with a natural colored lip gloss. Other than the lip gloss, the girl wore little make-up, Allison noted. But then, she didn’t need make-up to look great. Harry would kick himself when he found out what he’d missed.
“Did she ever say anything about leaving her position with the Gundersons?”
“Not to me.” Tabby’s eyes moved to the conference room door. “Maybe I should talk to your boss personally.”
“Not possible.”
“Why not?”
“He’ll be gone by now. He had another appointment.”
“That’s too bad,” Tabby said, looking wistful.
“Tragic.” Allison checked her notes. “Did you ever meet the Gundersons?”
“I met the kids. We took them all to the park sometimes.” Tabby played with her hair, stringing it out with her fingers. “I met Mr. Gunderson.”
“When?”
“He came by to pick Lizzie up one day when she was visiting me.”
“What did you think of him?”
“He was okay.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Kind of. He tried to flirt with me.”
“How so?”
“Lizzie had to get her jacket from upstairs. While we were waiting for her to come down, he started flirting with me.”
“Go on.”
“Then Mr. MacTavish came in, and he asked Mr. Gunderson into his study for a drink. Mr. Gunderson told Lizzie we could have some more time while they talked, so we went back up to my room.”
“That’s the only time you met him?”
“As far as I can remember.”
“On the film when Lizzie got into the car, the day she disappeared, she didn’t have anything but her purse with her, but when the Gundersons checked her room, Lizzie’s suitcase and all her things were gone. Do you have any idea what happened to them?”
