“Where’d she go?”

“To crash with friends. To shack up with a guy. Who the hell knows?”

“Hard to imagine her leaving, you providing such a nurturing environment and all.”

“The kid got tired of sleeping on the couch.”

“Tired of watching you tweak and bang johns.”

“That’s not how it was.”

“I’m sure you prayed the rosary together.”

“Colleen was no angel.” Defensive. “She’d spread her legs if a dude made it worthwhile.”

“She was sixteen.” Sharp. I couldn’t help myself. The woman was repulsive.

“Colleen’s a survivor. She’s probably dancing in Vegas.” Flip. But I could hear question marks in her voice.

Slidell withdrew a clear plastic vial from his jacket pocket. Handed it to me. “We need your spit,” he said to Lonergan.

“No way.”

“The procedure is painless.” I pulled the swab from the vial and showed it to her. “I’ll just run this over the inside of your cheek. That’s it.”

Lonergan swung the armrest leg down to meet the floor leg, drew both in, and sat forward, arms wrapping her knees, head wagging from side to side.

Slidell drilled her with one of his tough-cop looks. Wasted effort, since she was staring at the floor.

“This is a trick to prove I’m using.” Gaze still on her boots. Which had heels higher than the wheels on my car.

“Don’t need no swab to see that.” Slidell’s tone said he was out of patience.

“I’ll puke.”

Slidell spoke to me. “The witness says she don’t feel good. I should take a spin around the premises, see if there’s something might be making her sick.” He pushed to his feet.

When Lonergan’s head snapped up, the cartilage in her throat stood out like rings on a Slinky. “No.”

We waited.

“Why are you doing this?” The skittish eyes bounced around the room and settled on me, a less threatening foe.

“We need your DNA on file,” I said gently.

“In case Colleen—”

“It takes only a second.” I pulled on surgical gloves and stepped closer. I expected Lonergan to turn away. To clamp her jaw. Perhaps to spit at me. Instead, she opened her mouth, revealing teeth so rotten that I wondered how she could chew.

I scraped her cheek, sealed the swab in the tube, and marked it with a Sharpie. Slidell took the specimen without comment. Then he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Looking at Lonergan, I felt a bubble of pity rise in my chest. The woman had nothing. Her sister was dead. Her niece was missing, probably dead. She had no present. No future. Only enslavement to a habit that would inevitably take her life.

“I know you care about Colleen,” I said softly.

Lonergan’s snort was meant to show apathy. What I heard was guilt and self-loathing.

“You did the best you could, Laura.”

“I didn’t do shit.”

“You haven’t given up.”

“Yay, me. I leave the porch light on.”

“You didn’t let it drop.” Desperate to find something comforting to say. “You reached out to check on your niece’s case.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“According to Colleen’s file, you phoned last August to ask for an update.”

Lonergan looked at me in genuine confusion. “Phoned who?”

“Pat Tasat.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Do you know a woman named Sarah Merikoski?”

One bony shoulder rose, dropped. “Maybe.”

“She reported your niece missing. Tasat was the detective looking into it.”

“Lady, I’m not sure of much. But one thing you can take to the bank: I’ve never dimed a cop in my life.”

Was the meth speaking? Had Tasat gotten it wrong? Or had he missed something?

“Does Colleen have more than one aunt?” I asked.

“If the kid had options would she have stayed in this dump?” Sweeping a skeletal arm to take in the room.

A buzz rippled my nerves.

My eyes shifted to Slidell.

He was listening.

CHAPTER 26

I WAS SO pumped, I overlooked the mélange of odors polluting Slidell’s Taurus.

“If Lonergan didn’t call Tasat, who did?” I said.

“You can count on one hand the cells still firing in that chick’s head.”

“She sounded so certain.”

Slidell offered a sniff.

“I can’t recall if the notation included a callback number.”

“Knock yourself out. I’m gonna run the swab by the lab.”

We were at the LEC in minutes. Rose through the building in silence.

My pulse was high-stepping. Was the discrepancy due to Lonergan’s impaired wiring? Had Tasat gotten it wrong in his notes? Or had we stumbled on to one of Ryan’s big bang breaks?

I got off on two and headed past the CCU to the conference room. Slidell continued up to four.

The Donovan file was on the table with the others. It took little time to locate the entry.

Investigative Notes (Tasat) (8/07/14)

Laura Lonergan, family member, phoned to ask about progress on MP Colleen Donovan. Lonergan is Donovan’s maternal aunt. When asked if she had thoughts where Colleen might be, Lonergan stated that she did not. When asked where she could be reached, she provided a cellphone contact and stated she had no work or home lines.

Lonergan’s mobile was listed at the end of the entry.

After blocking my own caller ID, I tried the number. A voice told me it wasn’t in service.

I was sitting there, frustration oozing from every pore, when Slidell lumbered through the door. “What?” Seeing my face.

“There’s nothing in the file to indicate where the call was made. The mobile number given by Lonergan”—hooking the name with air quotes—“is bogus. And Tasat’s not around to take questions.”

“I’m telling you. The woman’s brain is hamburger.”

“I think we should check it out.”

Slidell sighed, über-patient. Yanked out his spiral. “You got the date the call came in?”

“August seventh.”

“The time?”

“No.”

“I’ll have to get Tasat’s number.”

“That’s easy enough.”

“Then I’ll have to subpoena Ma Bell.”

“How long will that take?”

“A couple weeks, a couple days. Some companies are friendlier than others.”

“Shall we tell Barrow?”

“Tell him what? A tweaker’s having memory issues?”

Easy, Brennan. “Where is Barrow?”

“Heading here now.”

Slidell’s words were barely out when the head of CCU stepped into the room.

I explained the call. And my suspicion that someone other than Lonergan had placed it.

“Nice catch.”

“Maybe.” I knew in my gut that it was. “The mobile number Lonergan gave Tasat isn’t in service. And it’s not the one she’s currently posting on Backpage.com.”

“So she got dropped or switched carriers.” Slidell’s skepticism was a real buzzkill.

“You on the trace?” Barrow asked him before I could respond.

“Wanna bet it’s a waste of time?”

“I could pass it to Tinker.”

Slidell took his leave, muttering about paperwork. And horseshit.

Barrow took the chair opposite mine. “How was the far north?”

“Cold.”

“Bring me up to speed.”

I did.

Barrow listened, now and then clearing his throat.

When I finished, he sat thinking about it. Then, “The brass wanted stronger links between Leal and the other cases. Said they’d reassess when the situation changed.”

“They did.”

“We need to share this with the deputy chief.”

“When?” I looked at my watch. It was ten past five. I’d risen before dawn to fly back to Charlotte.

“Now.”

“Since 2007, three adolescent females have been abducted in broad daylight and later found dead. Nellie Gower, Hardwick, Vermont, 2007. Lizzie Nance, Charlotte, 2009. Tia Estrada, Salisbury, 2012. The victims are of a type. The VICAP crime profiles show striking similarity. In each case, the body was left in the open, fully clothed, and posed. In no case was there evidence of sexual assault. In no case could cause of death be determined.” At Barrow’s urging, I was taking the lead.