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Holly Stevens’s police report arrived at the Forensic Instincts office late that afternoon. The contents were immediately scanned and stored on the server. Pages were printed out for each team member, all of whom stopped what they were doing to read and analyze it. Then they had a brief meeting to see how—and who—could best utilize the information gleaned from the two-page report.
Ryan was elected as the starting point. He’d already run a basic timeline search on Jan Olson’s life. Now he’d cross-check it with Holly’s.
Before heading down to his lair, Ryan swiveled his chair toward Marc.
“I found Brenda Miller,” he informed him. “She’s married, listed under the name Brenda Reins and living in Greenwich, Connecticut.” He passed along a three-page printout. “I got a basic rundown on her, as well as digging up her address and phone number. She’s a typical suburban mom, juggling a job at a nonprofit organization with raising three kids.”
Marc glanced at his watch. “I can make Greenwich in a little over an hour—maybe longer, if I get caught in rush hour traffic.” He took the printout. “I’ll get on the road now.”
“Since I know you like to go for the element of surprise, I called ahead to make sure you wouldn’t be wasting your time,” Ryan said. “A tween kid answered. I pretended to be a telemarketer. I heard a woman in the background. So I’m guessing she’s home.”
Marc shrugged. “Even if she wasn’t, she probably would be once I showed up. There’s nothing like dinnertime to bring the family together. And if she happens to be out, I’ll wait.”
“She drives a dark green SUV.” Ryan gave Marc the year and the model, along with the license plate number. “So if you see the car in the driveway or the garage, you’re in luck.”
“Gotcha.” Marc glanced across the conference room table at Casey, who’d been unusually quiet during this minimeeting. “Does that work for you or do you need me here?”
“It works. And I’m going with you.” Casey set down Jan Olson’s date book, which she’d been studying for the past hour. “We need to really probe the boyfriend angle with Brenda. Whether Jan was seeing one guy or ten, I want as much info on them as possible. And Brenda is more apt to be open with another woman than with a man. You can question her about everything else, Marc. But I’m taking the boyfriend route.”
“Okay.” Marc’s eyes narrowed quizzically. He knew that expression on Casey’s face. She was focused on something in par
ticular—something she thought might be significant. “Want to share?”
Casey pointed at the date book. “Daniel Olson was right. Jan was a typical teenage girl, who made typical entries in her date book. One of the most common notations is something a father would never notice.” She pointed at one page, then another, and finally a third.
“What are we looking for?” Ryan asked.
“Dots.” Claire spotted them in an instant. “Each of those pages has a dot on it.”
“And the dots show up every four weeks, almost to the day.” Casey indicated a few more pages. “Jan was keeping track of her periods. Most women do. And hers came like clockwork, right up until two months before her disappearance. Then they stopped altogether.”
“You think she was pregnant,” Ryan concluded.
“I think the timing is too coincidental to be ignored. No period for two months, followed by an inexplicable disappearance?” Casey frowned. “That connection definitely requires investigation.”
“Makes sense.” Marc looked thoughtful. “Although it feels like a reach. A single young woman becoming pregnant, even fifteen years ago, wasn’t an eyebrow-lifter. And it wouldn’t be difficult to take care of quietly, especially on a college campus. Health services would be right there to give her a hand, no matter what she decided. And they’d keep it confidential, by law.”
“True,” Casey agreed. “But the Olsons are a very traditional church-going family. There were childhood photos of Jan receiving her First Communion in the living room. And Mr. Olson mentioned that he’d donated Jan’s clothing to their church. If religion factored heavily into their lives, maybe Jan couldn’t cope with a pregnancy emotionally, even if she could take care of it physically.”
“Which brings us to the baby’s father.”
“Exactly.” Casey nodded. “Who is he and how far would he be willing to go to make this pregnancy—and the mother—go away?”
Marc still seemed pensive. “Did your friend Holly ever mention a boyfriend?”
Casey knew just where he was headed with this. “No. She definitely wasn’t seeing anyone. We were pretty close. She would have said something to me if there was a guy in her life.”
“Then if your theory turns out to be true, you’ve probably scratched the idea that we’re dealing with a serial killer. The motives in Holly’s and Jan’s cases would no longer match. Jan’s situation would be a personal, not a random, crime. For all we know, she took a fat check from the baby-daddy and disappeared. Or, at worst, he killed her. Either way, it dashes your hopes of linking this to Holly’s death.”
“I realize that.” Casey met Marc’s gaze. “And, no, it doesn’t make me happy. But I told you from the beginning that my first priority was to find out what happened to Jan Olson. And that’s what I intend to do—whether or not it links to Holly.”
“Fair enough. Then let’s interview Brenda together. Between the two of us, we’ll get everything she knows about her best friend.”
* * *
Brenda Reins was just popping a casserole into the oven when her doorbell rang.
She wiped her hands on her apron, glancing at the clock with more than a little annoyance. It was rare that her family was all together for dinner. Between Daisy Scouts, Little League, music lessons and sleepovers—not to mention Ronald’s endless hours at his law office—it was a battle to get the five of them home and gathered around the table at the same time.
