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“Special Agent Mark Gallagher, Mr. Boynton. I’d like to come by and talk to you. We’re grasping at straws and hoping anything you might have seen or heard leading up to Dierdre’s kidnapping might be helpful.”
He didn’t know if Colleen and Ragnar could hear Gary Boynton’s answers.
“Yes. Sure. I’m working in my garage. Anything to keep busy, you know? They won’t let us see Dierdre yet. I’m anxious, so, you know, working on projects helps. I thought you caught the guy?”
“We caught a man. But we can’t yet prove he was the one to kidnap Dierdre.”
“But—on the news, it sounded the same.”
“We can’t be sure. We need to speak with you.”
“I’m here. Ready and willing to help in any way. But hurry. They’ve said I can see Dierdre soon, and I want to see her as soon as possible!”
“We’re on our way,” Mark said, and hung up.
“I got a hold of the parents just now too,” Ragnar said. “They’re ready for me to come by—quickly. They want to see their daughter. I guess we don’t get to switch around today.” He saluted. “Catch up later. Bye, Red!”
Red woofed.
“He really is an amazing dog,” Colleen said.
“He is.” Mark grinned at her. “In another life, I think I could have been... I don’t know.”
“With the circus?” she asked, a strange little grin on her face.
“Ha ha. Well, maybe. I always loved animals. But yes, this guy is special. Anyway, he’s usually a good judge of character.”
“Oh, thank God I made the cut.”
“Ah, maybe he’s still observing.”
She grinned. “Maybe you should have been a vet?”
“Naw. Too squeamish around blood.”
“You?”
“No, sadly, not really. I just knew I wanted to be FBI.”
She shook her head as they got into the car and he revved the engine.
“There are dog treats in the glove compartment. He may judge you even more highly if you were to give him one,” Mark told Colleen.
She grinned and did as he had suggested. Red rewarded her with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
“I wonder if he knows how amazing he is,” Colleen murmured.
“He’s a dog,” Mark said, looking ahead and smiling. “An amazingly cool one. But he’s like most dogs attached to their owners. He’s unconditional love, which, as you know, is pretty nice after some of the days we’ve had.”
“Yep,” Colleen said. Her phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID and then at him. “It’s my sister. Is it okay if—”
“Of course. Talk to her,” he said.
Colleen answered her phone with a smile.
“Megan! What’s up?” Then: “Oh, that’s great...Yes, of course. I don’t know about timing, but if you’re going to stay at my place, it’s perfect. I’ll get to see you. You have your own key, so just let yourself in whenever you get here...Yes.” Colleen paused and glanced at Mark. “Yes, I’m working what they’re calling ‘The Embracer’ case...Yes, I’m sorry, it’s horrible. Trust me, no cop or agent created that moniker. Killers just wind up with monikers. Okay... Oh!” She glanced at Mark again and this time covered the speaker area of her phone with her hand. “Megan works for a press in New York. Is it all right if I ask her about Brant Pickering?”
He nodded.
“Megan, what do you know about an author, Brant Pickering?”
He could hear the rush of words that followed. They were effusive. Mark wasn’t sure what she was saying, but it was clear that she admired the man.
Colleen thanked her and ended the call.
She looked at Mark with a grimace. “Well, I’m sure you heard some of that! She’s not only heard of him, she’s read his work and she admires him. He’s highly respected among historians, readers, and other writers of historical works.”
“Did she say anything about him being in New York?”
Colleen nodded. “She’s excited. He’s supposedly working on a book about the Five Points area of the city, what it once was and how it evolved over the years.”
“So, there’s a reason he moved to New York.”
“I guess.”
“One sister?” he asked her.
