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The security gate buzzed Jo and Arnett through before they could push the button, and Director Susan Rosen waited for them outside the front entrance of the main building. Dressed in athletic shoes and a navy pencil-skirt suit, she flung back the doors with a strength and purpose that belied her five-foot-three stature and her late-sixty-something age. Once inside, she turned to Arnett, hand extended.

  “I spoke to Detective Fournier on the phone. I assume you’re Detective Arnett?”

  “Correct.” He shook her hand. “When did your staff notice Zoë was missing?”

  Susan turned to direct her comments to them both. “When she didn’t come out to breakfast this morning, one of our orderlies went to check on her, around eight-thirty, and found her room empty. But, to be blunt, the situation is far more complicated than just that. Normally we have breakfast at eight, not eight-thirty. It was delayed because two of our night-shift staff found their purses stolen when they went off shift this morning, and that threw everything into a tizzy. Dolores Chambray then realized her car had been stolen. They called the Northampton PD and had finished the process of giving a statement before anyone realized Zoë was missing.”

  Jo nodded, and strode over to the women. “When was the last time anyone saw Zoë?”

  Dolores looked at Julie, who answered. “About half an hour after you left yesterday. She refused to take a sedative, and said she just wanted to sleep. So I made her a cup of chamomile tea and left her in peace. Since dinner was already over, there was no reason for anyone to bother her again.”

  Jo calculated. Zoë had been gone for as long as twelve hours.

  “And when was the last time you saw your purses?” Jo asked.

  Dolores answered this time. “When we clocked in last night at six, just before I called you. We’re required to keep personal items locked up.” She gestured to a cabinet under the counter.

  Jo and Arnett walked around for a better view. “Including your phones?” Jo asked.

  “Cell phones aren’t allowed out in the building for patient privacy reasons,” Susan said.

  Arnett pulled on a surgical glove and carefully opened the cabinet to peer at the lock, which was intact. “So how did she get your purses without breaking the lock?”

  Dolores looked at Julie, who shrank farther into her seat. “I, um. Sometimes I forget to lock it.”

  Arnett’s head snapped around. “I need the full truth here. Did you really have your purses put away?”

  Dolores tensed. “Yes, sir. We’d never break the rules like that. There was nothing disobedient here, it’s just that Julie—well, she has a lot on her mind, and she’s forgetful on a good day.”

  Julie’s neck turned beet red, and Jo pushed down her annoyance. “What happened once you realized they were gone?”

  “We did a quick search of the common areas, and the patients who were awake. We figured one of them may have stumbled on the purses when we were on break, without meaning any harm. When we couldn’t find them, Susan told us to call the police. Then I called my husband and asked him to bring his car keys, because mine had been in my purse. When he got here, we realized my Suburban wasn’t in the parking lot, and we found Julie’s keys dropped on the ground next to her Civic. We called the police back, and that’s when Todd came running out asking if anyone knew where Zoë was.”

  The entry door opened, and Marzillo entered.

  Jo raised a hand to greet her, then turned back to Dolores. “Did you search her room when you realized she was gone?”

  “We didn’t. Todd and I checked her bedroom and came right back out. I told him we shouldn’t touch anything. But I did notice the window was open, and her lamp and some other stuff was knocked over.” She searched Jo’s face as she spoke.

  “That’s good to know, thank you.” She introduced Marzillo. “She and her techs will need to analyze the room, this cabinet and counter, and Julie’s car keys and car. Can you start her off in Zoë’s room?”

  Dolores nodded, and led Marzillo down the hall.

  Jo turned to Susan. “We’re looking at two possibilities here. The most likely is that our friend from yesterday learned enough during his visit to figure out how to come back and kidnap her. The other is that Zoë fled. We’ll need to see the gate’s security footage, to see if she left alone, or with someone.”

  Susan produced a memory card. “I’ve already checked it. Nobody came in, the only car that left was the Suburban.” She slipped the card into a computer and pulled up the clip.

  Jo and Arnett leaned in as she played and rewound several times. A light-colored Chevy Suburban drove out of the gate and turned right. A portion of the driver’s torso was visible, showing a large dark shirt, and the passenger seat appeared to be empty.

  “Doesn’t mean anything. That could be a man or a woman driving, and Zoë could be tied up in the back of the car. And Oscar could have slipped onto the grounds somehow, then needed a vehicle to get away quickly,” Arnett said.

  Zoë’d been wrapped up in a blanket when they’d seen her the night before. “Do you have any idea what she was wearing last night?” Jo asked.

  Dolores, who’d returned while they searched the footage, looked at Julie, who shook her head. “I think she was wearing a dark green sweatshirt, but I’m not sure,” Dolores answered.

  Jo instructed Dolores and Julie to write down what information they could about their phones, credit cards, and other identifying items in their purses, then stepped out of the building with Arnett to call Lopez. Jo caught her up over speakerphone. “I’m sorry to have to call you on a Sunday, especially Palm Sunday, but I figured you might want to be involved. I can call someone else in if you prefer.” For the past few years, Lopez had lived with her mother, who struggled with alcohol-dependency-related health issues, and was also a devout Catholic.

  Lopez’s voice was bright. “Don’t worry, I took my mom to mass last night before I came in to check out Zoë’s visitor. I’m free as a bird, and hell no I don’t want someone else taking over on this.”

  Jo smiled. “Excellent. First of all, did you find anything yesterday on Oscar Snow?”

  “Nope. I found five currently alive Oscar Snows in Massachusetts. One’s a child, one’s a teenager, and one’s in his eighties. The other two have blond hair and alibis for yesterday afternoon and evening.”

  “Pretty much what I figured. Marzillo’s already here working the scene, so hopefully she’ll get some evidence that’ll let us know what exactly happened here. Arnett and I will get out an APB for Zoë, our mystery man, and the stolen Suburban. Can you track the phones and such? We should also flag the driver’s licenses and the Suburban’s plates.” She dictated the relevant information.

  “Not a problem. Hopefully I’ll have something for you shortly.”

  Jo hung up, then sent out the relevant APBs. When she finished, she turned to Arnett. “Okay, so, what are our next steps? One scenario is Oscar never really thought he’d get close to Zoë, and took advantage of Dolores’ absence to do a quick search. He knew security was going to be on the lookout for him and his car, so he climbed the fence, got in through Zoë’s window, snatched the purses for the keys, and drove off in the Suburban? Left behind the Civic because it’s hard to hide someone tied up in the backseat?”

  “I find it hard to believe Zoë’d have her window open after how freaked she was,” Arnett said.

  Jo’s brows shot up. “You’re right, that is strange. Maybe he forced it, but that would be hard to do without breaking the window, and they’d have noticed that. You think she bolted?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “Not really, because where is she gonna go when she doesn’t know who she is? If she wanted to leave, why turn down your offer to relocate her to another facility?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know she was acting strangely yesterday. Like she’d given up or something. Dammit, I shouldn’t have left her alone.”

  “What were we going to do, sleep at the foot of her bed? And the more I think about it, Oscar probably
snuck in some other way and left the window open to confuse us.”

  “Well, regardless, she may be in danger and we can’t afford to wait until Marzillo and Lopez find something. What do we know that we can act on?”

  “We’ve got nothing on Oscar, so that’s a dead end. All we have is what we had before, following clues and canvassing the camping spots out in that area of the Berkshires.”

  Jo’s spine straightened. “Wait—you’re right. All we can do is go back to where this started. If Oscar kidnapped her to kill her and dispose of her, he’s most likely headed back to the Taltingham area. And if she bolted but can’t remember anything, the only place she’d know to go is back to Taltingham.”

  Arnett nodded. “So either way, we need to alert the locals up there asap, and head over ourselves.”

  They hurried back into the building to let Marzillo know where they were going, then headed back to the car.

  “I’ll call the local police on the way,” Jo said, but as she dropped into the passenger side of the Cruze, her phone rang. “Lopez. Tell me you have something for us.”

  “Just GPS locations for both cell phones,” Lopez answered. “They’re showing up just off the Pike, heading east out of town.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Five minutes later, Jo turned off the portable siren as the Cruze closed in on the exit flashing across their GPS screen. Jo recognized the location—it was a service plaza, not an actual exit. Arnett screeched into the parking lot.

  “That way.” She pointed right, to the far corner of the parking lot, near the restrooms. “And they’re not moving.”

  Arnett slowed. “No way they can get past us now, anyway—this is the only way out.”

  They both scanned the area for movement as they approached. Arnett parked, and they stepped out of the car. Jo referenced the GPS screen on her phone. “There.”

  They crossed the pavement, each ready to draw their weapon.

  “Shit.” Jo’s heart sank. “The two dots are on top of one another, right there.” She pointed to a trash can.

  “Motherfuck. He dumped them.” They continued their cautious approach, then gazed down at the red-topped brown can. “Yup. We’re standing right on top of them now. Of course.”

  “I’ll call for a tech. He probably realized we could track them and dumped them as soon as possible. But maybe we’ll get lucky with some prints or DNA.”

  Arnett stood, hands on hips, his expression dark. “Maybe Christmas’ll come early and he’ll have been stupid enough to use them.”

  “So, he was traveling eastbound, away from Taltingham. Or is that just what he wants us to think?”

  “Doesn’t really matter. We’re back where we started.”

  Jo pulled out her phone. “I’ll alert the locals up there. Can you set up a perimeter around the can?”

  He barked a dry laugh. “On it.”

  Half an hour later, as another of Oakhurst County SPDU’s techs, Vince Pepper, arrived to recover the bag of garbage from inside the can, Jo’s phone rang. “Lopez. Please tell me you have news for me.”

  “Some very intriguing tidbits, yes. First up, Dolores Chambray’s credit card was used at Walmart just before midnight last night. The charge includes toiletries, food, a thermal sleeping bag, a Swiss army knife, a backpack, mace bear spray, a hunting knife—chime in here when you guess the theme—”

  “Survival gear.”

  “Ding. I’ll e-mail you the complete list, but I also want to specifically mention the six five-gallon gas cans. Someone’s on a road trip and doesn’t want to have to stop off at gas stations. And, by the way, there’s another charge, a considerable one, at a gas station out by you guys about an hour after that. My next step is to check their security cam footage.”

  “So he’s heading out to the woods after all, and is trying to misdirect us,” Arnett said.

  Jo tapped the hood of the car with her fist. “Something’s not right. If he was on the Pike for any period of time, the cameras would have picked up the plates,” she said.

  “Maybe he ditched the vehicle, and stole a different one?”

  Jo nodded, and paced in front of the car. “Or maybe he realized back streets were a safer bet.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’re back to square one, again.” Arnett peered out over the highway. “Taltingham’s our only lead.”

  “Agreed. If he did head in that direction and we move fast enough, we may be able to catch up with them. We need to move, now.” She pulled open the car door and jumped inside. “But I have another idea, too.” She tapped her phone to call Lopez. “Hey, can you set up a three-way call with Marzillo?”

  “I can try, but she might not pick up while she’s processing a scene. Hold, please.”

  Jo listened to the silence until something clicked back over, and Marzillo’s voice came on the line. “Jo, Bob. What’s going on?”

  “Sorry to interrupt you.”

  “Not a problem, I just finished the main work, because there isn’t much to process. No forced entry, nothing like that, which made things easy. Mehil can take care of the rest. What’s up?”

  “Have either of you heard of GEDmatch?” Jo asked.

  “Sounds familiar—” Lopez started.

  Marzillo spoke simultaneously. “Brilliant. How did I not think of that?”

  Jo laughed. “Probably because CODIS is all you ever need. And we didn’t realize Zoë would go missing.” Jo turned and acknowledged the confusion on Arnett’s face. “GEDmatch is an open-source database of DNA profiles, used mostly by people who are doing family tree research. I’ve been considering submitting to it to help trace my mother’s family. You can upload a DNA profile and find people related to you. I’m hoping we can upload Zoë’s profile, and find someone who can tell us more about her.”

  Lopez drew in a loud breath. “Oh, right, I remember now. That solved some high-profile case in California, right, by triangulating back to shared ancestors?”

  Marzillo jumped in. “Yep. Well, two cases that I know of, and both took many months to triangulate to shared ancestors, then build a tree forward from those ancestors to identify potential suspects. Which resulted in lots of suspects because each subsequent generation has more people, who then all had to be located and vetted. But what we’re doing should be far easier because we have pictures of the right person, we just need to find someone who can identify her.”

  Jo nodded with excitement. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  “But there’s bad news, too. You need a different type of DNA profile than we use for CODIS. I’ll have to get the lab to work one up for me, and I’m not sure if I can call in another favor this fast. It may take time.”

  “Wheedle, beg, borrow, steal, whatever you have to do, because we don’t know how much time we have here. I don’t suppose we can play on your contact’s heartstrings by mentioning there’s potentially a young girl hurt somewhere that we’re trying to find?”

  Lopez balked. “We don’t know how old the daugh— Oh, I get it. Heartstrings.”

  “I can try,” Marzillo said. “I’ll go now.”

  As Arnett sped to Taltingham, Jo contacted the Berkshire County State Police Detective Unit for assistance. She e-mailed pictures of Zoë for dissemination along with information about the stolen vehicle, and the Berkshire detectives assured them they’d get the local police departments on it.

  Then, when she couldn’t put it off any longer, she called Matt Soltero.

  “Well, hello. I’m pleasantly surprised to hear from you so soon,” he said.

  Her body responded instantly to the sexy purr of his voice—until a vision of the pink line on her pregnancy test slammed the reaction down. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept her voice professional. “I’m sorry it has to be about work yet again, and bad news this time.” She caught him up on the situation. “If you hear from her, can you let us know immediately? Of course I’ll do the same.”

  His voice switched from sexy to concerned. “I will, and I’
ll put my staff on alert.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you either way later this week.” Jo hung up, still trying to push the conflicting emotions from her mind as they pulled up to the tiny ‘downtown’ area of Taltingham.

  They talked to each of the shopkeepers, but no one had seen or heard from Zoë since the ambulance sped her away. They asked Evander Gibson, the owner of the antique store Zoë had stumbled into, to recount again what he’d seen the day she showed up, but learned nothing new. He hadn’t laid eyes on her before she entered his store, and couldn’t even say which direction she’d come from.

  “Looks like we’re on our own. Where do we start?” Jo said.

  Arnett scanned the short street, and pointed out toward the forest. “Gibson’s shop is the first you’d hit if you came from that direction. She said she followed the creek to a dirt road, and then to this paved road. So, let’s go find ourselves the first road that intersects in that direction, and hopefully it’ll lead to a creek.”

  “That’s the best guess we’ve got. And if we can be reasonably certain we have the right creek, we can estimate the point where she picked up the creek based on the amount of time she claims to have been walking, and canvas from there.”

  Back in the car, they turned uphill at the first dirt road, then came almost immediately to a creek. “This can’t be it—she mentioned walking for quite a while parallel to the dirt road. This wouldn’t have taken her more than fifteen minutes to get to town,” Jo said.

  “Agreed.” Arnett drove on.

  With his eyes largely on the road, Arnett missed the second stream, but Jo caught sight of the water, half-hidden from the road by a high bank on the nearest side. “Here’s one,” she pointed, and Arnett pulled off the road. They scanned the area, and followed the creek uphill. “Looks large enough to follow for a fair distance,” Arnett said.

  Jo stepped carefully toward the lower bank, then pointed to it. “Hold on, check this out. The vegetation’s crushed down. I’m no tracker, but that has to be recent, or it would have sprung back up by now.”