VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel)

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Next Abigail opened the browsing history, scanning it for URLs over several days, then closed that screen and enlarging the others in the orders she’d found them.

  She squatted beside the desk, pulled out a pair of tweezers from her purse and used them to lift some scattered papers off the floor. Most were bills, some receipts from restaurants and a few personal correspondences, all from men. Didn’t Brianna have any other female friends besides her?

  Quickly wiping away the tears that had somehow slid down her cheeks, she stepped away from the computer just as Luke’s footsteps on the hallway tiles announced his return to the living room. She never cried, and she’d be damned if she’d let him catch her in a weak moment. Not again.

  “I told you not to move.”

  His arrogant tone grated on her nerves.

  “Despite what you think, I am a trained agent. I know how to investigate a crime scene without destroying evidence.” She didn’t try to hide her own indignation. She knew she hadn’t disturbed vital evidence the crime scene investigators might need.

  He pulled out his cell phone. “Anything on the computer?”

  She shook her head. “Who are you calling?”

  He flipped open the phone. “The local police.”

  Panic surged in her. “Wait! Can’t we look around a little longer before we call them?”

  He lifted an eyebrow, his finger paused above the buttons. “The longer we wait, the longer it’ll take them to find your friend.”

  “Look around us.” A shudder ran through her and she let out a long sigh. “Do you really think whoever did this hasn’t killed her already?”

  Luke closed the cell phone. “If they haven’t found what they wanted here, then they still have need of her. We have to proceed as if she is still alive.”

  “I pray you’re right, with my whole heart, I do.” Why did he have to sound so sensible? “But if you’re not, once there’s an official local investigation, the red tape to look at the evidence alone will be a mile high. I need to look around a bit to see if she left me a clue as to why she needed me.”

  “She didn’t tell you on the phone? Exactly why did your friend ask you to come here?”

  Abigail ground her teeth. She didn’t know which she hated worse from this man, arrogance to rival an NFL quarterback, or the condescending patience equal to Sister Compassionatta back at the Sisters of the Sacred Heart orphanage.

  Closing her eyes, Abigail recalled the conversation she had the night before with Brianna. “She was scared. I could hear it in her voice. Brianna has never sounded scared the entire time we’ve known each other. There wasn’t a hesitant bone in her body.” Unlike me. Abigail opened her eyes and looked directly at Luke. “You would’ve liked her.”

  “I doubt it,” he said, looking around the room.

  For a brief second, something odd crossed the hard lines of his face—contempt? Then it disappeared, replaced by an intensity that sent a shiver running over Abigail.

  “So what exactly did she say to you that made you think this was more than just boyfriend troubles?”

  “Brianna was a beautiful woman, but she also had a great head for math. Her beauty hid her passion for crunching numbers from any man pursuing her. They rarely looked past her blonde hair and chest size.” She smiled, remembering the conspiratorial wink her friend would give when some guy tried to tutor her in math. “Brianna called it her secret weapon. On the phone last night she said she’d run across some irregularities at her job.”

  “And she didn’t tell you what they were?”

  Abigail shook her head. “She said she didn’t want to give details over the phone. I assumed it had to do with money. Otherwise why call me?”

  “Sounds like she was paranoid.”

  Abigail gestured at the mess around them. “Apparently with good reason.”

  “Did you at least ask where she worked?”

  Okay, now he was pushing her buttons. Alright, she’d just push back.

  “No.”

  He let out a curse. “Even a rookie would’ve asked that.”

  She gave him her most saccharine smile. “I didn’t ask because I already knew. Hollister-Klein Exporters.”

  The name of the international import/export firm registered recognition in his eyes, but he quickly hid it. The muscles in his well-chiseled jaw flexed. He pulled out his phone once more and dialed. Holding the phone in one hand he dug into his pockets with the other and threw her a pair of latex gloves. “Put these on so you don’t leave any fingerprints behind. You have until the police get here to search for information. But leave everything where you find it.” He spoke the address into the phone then waited. “By the way, was there a disk in the A drive?”

  Dammit. Why hadn’t she considered that?

  Abigail pulled on the gloves as she opened the A drive slot on the ancient hard drive Brianna refused to update then shook her head. He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded.

  When he spoke into the phone again, she squatted to study the papers on the floor once more. Bills and letters. What had she hoped for? Spreadsheets? Files? Those would’ve been the first things taken.

  There had to be something useful in this mess, something the killers had missed.

  Killers, not attackers.

  A pain filled her chest. Despite Luke’s optimistic words earlier, he couldn’t possibly believe Brianna had survived this attack. Lifting a paper, Abigail paused to blink back tears once more.

  As sure as she knew today was Thursday, she knew her friend was not simply missing.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You want to tell me why the feds are interested in this missing woman, Agent Edgars?” asked Detective Jeffers, the local cop who’d caught the case. A tall, older man in good physical shape, Jeffers sported a close-to-the-head military cut of his dark hair and a serious expression that would rival his own brother Dave’s.

  Luke gave Jeffers his I-mean-you-no-harm smile. “We’re not officially here. Ms. Whitson and I came to see her friend and found this situation.”

  “So you expect me to believe there was no reason you two came here, except to visit an old friend?” Jeffers eyed him with a no-way-am-I-buying-that-crap look.

  “You know how it is, Detective,” Luke laid on the charm. “The little lady wants to visit a friend, we come and visit her friend.” He pulled the detective to the side. “I’d appreciate it if you could keep our names out of your official report.”

  “If I need more information about the victim?” Jeffers left the comment up in the air.

  “You’ll have our full cooperation. Believe me, we want her friend found as quickly as possible. We’d also like to be apprised of any progress your department might make. Unofficially, of course.”

  “Then you won’t be keeping any leads from us?”

  Luke smiled again, the smile that usually got him out of trouble with his superiors. “If anything comes our way we’ll be only too happy to share it.” He’d promise to sell his soul if it kept Abby’s name out of official channels.

  Moments later Luke watched Abby repeatedly thread her fingers together as she stiffly sat on the edge of the white leather chair talking to Detective Jeffers. After he’d placed the call to the police, she’d asked him not to inform them why she’d come to visit her friend. It went completely against protocol, and they both knew it.

  Although he’d made a career of bending the rules to the breaking point in order to solve a case, for once he’d been tempted to play by the rules, ignore her request, and insist she tell the detectives why her friend summoned her. That would’ve been the easiest way to get Abby off this case and to the safety of her desk back in Washington.

  However, he had his own agenda for not giving away her secret, and it had little to do with the shadowed plea in her green eyes, the fine tremors that shook her elegant hands, or the catch in her smooth-as-honey voice when she spoke of her friend. When she’d informed him her friend worked for Hollister-Klein his internal warn
ing bells went off. For the past year he’d been secretly looking into the life of one of the founders of the company, Senator Howard Klein. If Abby’s friend was missing, he’d bet his new laptop-tablet there was a connection to the company. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

  He studied Abby a moment, remembering all the times he’d teased her during training. Touchy as a wounded hedgehog on the outside, sensitive on the inside.

  As she talked to the detective, she slipped her long fingers into the blunt cut of her dark bangs, pushing them off her face. The rest of her thick hair was knotted behind her in some sort of professional, boring sort of bun. Despite her attempt at professionalism, the benign action showed just how frightened she was.

  Luke turned his attention away from her and the feelings her vulnerability set off deep inside him. He looked out the window at the dark parking lot behind the condo. Oh yeah. He had his own reasons for suppressing information from the local cops.

  If Abby’s friend survived the torture—and by the looks of this place she’d been beaten beyond endurance—she’d already told her abusers what it was they wanted to know. If she hadn’t, every possibility existed that she’d at least let them know she’d called Abby for help.

  Abby could’ve innocently walked into a trap. Instead of just her friend’s blood on the floor, Abby’s could’ve been there, too. At the thought, Luke’s gut tightened with white-hot anger.

  Any way he looked at it, naive Abby was now a target. A target he had to protect at any cost, even if meant pulling rank on the local cops like he had with Jeffers.

  A hand tapped him on his shoulder. Luke turned to see Abby standing right behind him. God, he’d forgotten how tall she was. If she ever wore a pair of sexy heels instead of sensible shoes, she’d be nearly eye level with his six feet two inches. “Done talking to the locals?”

  She nodded. “I hate to ask this, but could you give me a lift to a hotel? I don’t want to wait for a taxi at this late hour.”

  Dammit, there was that catch in her voice again.

  “You don’t have a rental car?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just had a taxi drop me off.”

  Great! Beside himself and the police officers, now the taxi driver could identify her as the first person to arrive at the condo to whoever took her friend. Just great.

  “Do you have a hotel reserved already?” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but she flinched and pulled her hand away as if he’d slapped her.

  “No. I’d thought I’d be staying here.” She took a retreating step, and looked around the room. “I’ll have one of the officers give me a ride—”

  “No.” Luke grabbed her by the elbow. No way was he letting her leave here with anyone but him, certainly not some young yahoo beat cop who was more interested in getting home than securing her safety. “I’ll take you.”

  Not releasing his grip, he led her back to the detective, pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “My cell number’s on there, Jeffers.”

  The officer took the card. “Ms. Whitson is a material witness, Edgars. How do I reach her?”

  Without waiting for him to answer for her, Abby rattled off her cell phone number for the detective.

  Luke fought the urge to growl at her. He didn’t want every police man in the place to know her number. “Use mine first. She’ll be with me. If you need to talk to her I’ll see that she’s available to you. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if no one else knew of her whereabouts for now. And let me know when the crime scene analysis is ready. Put a rush on it, if you can.”

  He shook the other lawman’s hand, then led Abby away from the bloody mess, hearing several murmurings of “damn feds” as they passed the officers milling around.

  At the bedroom door, they nearly collided with a wet-behind-the-ears officer holding several pictures of Abby’s friend. The top one was Brianna with a man about forty years old and signed, For Abigail.

  “That’s for me.” Abby reached for it, only to have the young man step back.

  “Sorry, ma’am. For now it’s evidence.”

  Abby nodded and blinked back tears. “Oh, yes, I almost forgot. It’s just…well, I don’t really have a recent picture of my friend.”

  “Sorry ma’am.” Sympathy washed across the officer’s face. He glanced at Detective Jeffers, then back at Abby. “Maybe, if it weren’t vital…”

  She smiled at the young man, a half smile, the kind that said she was disappointed, but wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. “It’s okay, officer. I understand.”

  Luke hated to see Abby hurting, especially over a picture of a woman who had so little regard for her friend she’d dragged her blindly into a dangerous situation. He glanced out the front door. TV trucks had set up their lights and cameras, reporters peppered the lawn, a crowd of neighborhood gawkers milled on the far side of the street.

  Dammit, could this night get any better?

  “Officer…” he glanced at the man’s badge. “Wilson. Could you loan us a police hat and jacket?”

  The rookie glanced around nervously. “I don’t know…”

  Luke pointed toward the front. “See all those reporters out there?”

  Wilson and Abby both glanced out the door.

  “If they see us leaving here, they’ll assume we’re witnesses, plaster our faces on the news, and point whoever did this straight for us. But if they see a female cop leaving with a detective, then no one will even notice.”

  “I don’t need to hide,” Abby said, her chin going up stubbornly.

  “If you want to help your friend, you need to keep a low profile.” He didn’t add that her life might already be in jeopardy. What he needed from her now was cooperation, not panic.

  She pulled her lower lip through her teeth, and nibbled on it, as if she were calculating the benefits of arguing with him. The action sent heat through him, and made him want to nibble on her lip himself, just to see if it tasted as soft as it had five years ago.

  “My overnight bag and laptop are in the foyer.”

  Her words drew him back to the here and now. “And?”

  “How do we explain taking them with us, if we’re just cops doing our job?”

  “They’ll just be more evidence we’re collecting,” added Officer Wilson, getting into the act.

  Luke could’ve kissed the guy as he removed his coat and hat, and gave them to Abby. “Get that picture dusted for prints, too, kid, and we’ll carry it out with the rest of her stuff.” Luke held up his hand when Wilson started to protest. “If Jeffers needs it back, he’ll call me. The evidence will be in federal custody, so he won’t have a problem with us taking it.”

  As the young officer went to have the picture dusted, Abby slipped on the coat then pulled the hat onto her head. “I’m ready.”

  Looking at her, Luke shook his head, pulled the hat off then shoved the loose strands of her dark hair up inside it before pushing the hat back onto her head. The bun at the base of her neck faded into the collar of the coat. “Let’s not give anyone a chance to get an accurate description of you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I really think you’re making too much out of this. No one will notice me.”

  I did.

  “Listen, I’m the senior agent on this case now. You do what I say, no matter how over the top you think it is, capisce?”

  She threw him a salute. “Yes, sir!”

  Wilson returned with the framed picture, freshly covered with powder, and handed it to Abby. “Detective Jeffers said he doubted they’d find any prints other than the vic’s on anything. And he’d like nothing better than to cooperate with the feds, but he’s still holding you responsible for the evidence, sir.”

  Luke looked into the living room at Jeffers. They exchanged nods. Both of them understood the situation. If anything happened to Abby or the evidence, the local cop wouldn’t hesitate to lay the blame on the federal agent.

  “Ready?” Luke led the way to the front door. “Keep your face tur
ned slightly from the reporters, Abby, just in case they film the general scene.”

  She rolled her eyes again and thrust her friend’s picture at him. “Wait. You take this.”

  He lifted a brow, but took the picture. “Why?”

  “You’re the big bad detective. I’m the lowly beat cop. You’d expect me to carry the cases, while you took the victim’s picture.”

  Wilson actually laughed behind them then coughed to cover it up when Luke shot him a glare.

  Abby thrust her hand at the guy and smiled. “Thanks for all your help, officer.”

  The kid actually blushed as he shook her hand. “The pleasure…was all mine, ma’am.”

  It was Luke’s turn to roll his eyes. Then he opened the screen door, holding it long enough for Abby to pick up her bags and exit behind him, both of them careful not to brush the outside frame where a CSI member dusted for latent prints. Luke walked beside her, talking quietly, hoping everyone would think he was giving her instructions and not stop them for questions.

  “No matter what happens out here, keep walking toward that gray BMW halfway down the block,” he said.

  She nodded.

  They had to step past two more CSI people who were scanning the sidewalk and street with UV light. They’d sprayed the area with Luminol to find hidden blood splatter, which was glowing like a fluorescent polka-dot trail. Luke glanced down the path which led to the east, away from his car about five yards, then stopped. He’d bet anything there were tire tracks at that spot, and that’s where the culprits stashed Abby’s friend into their getaway vehicle.

  Too bad he couldn’t stay and get some firsthand information on the case. Right now, his priority was to get Abby to his car and away from the reporters.

  They were halfway there. This just might work.

  Suddenly lights and people approached from the right. “Detective! Detective, could you tell us what’s happening?” asked a female voice.

  Shit.

  Luke thrust the keys into Abby’s hand. “Keep going and get inside the car. I’ll try to distract her.”

  Abigail took the keys and kept walking. She’d just bet he’d distract the pretty blonde reporter.