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“It’s also hard to picture somebody snatching her out of her own backyard in front of how many witnesses without someone seeing something. There are about two cleared acres separating the Madigan property line from the woods. Not a single tree in that stretch of land. There wouldn’t be any place to hide.”
“I agree it would be nearly impossible to drag someone kicking and screaming across that distance without attracting notice. But someone walking quietly on her own might make it to the woods unnoticed.”
“You think Rebecca slipped out to meet someone?”
“I think it’s one possibility.”
“I think she’d have taken her phone. Girls her age always have their phones.”
“You know a lot about teenage girls?” Kennedy raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I have a thirteen-year-old niece. She never goes anywhere without her phone.”
Kennedy made a sound of acknowledgment. Or maybe that was as close as he got to amusement.
Their meals arrived. Hot and fragrant food on oversized blue and orange plates that looked like Qing Dynasty knock-offs. Jason was surprised when Kennedy tore open the paper-wrapped chopsticks and attacked his dinner with efficient dexterity.
Jason said tentatively, “The Simpson kid said something to the effect that everyone knows the Huntsman didn’t act alone.”
“That was one theory for a time,” Kennedy replied. “We never found any evidence to support it.”
“Was anyone suspected of being Pink’s accomplice?”
“Pink’s brother Dwayne. Deceased.” Kennedy expertly manipulated his chopsticks and popped a shrimp into his mouth. Golden sauce wetted his full lower lip.
“Why do you think the rumors of Pink having an accomplice have persisted?”
“Because it took us—law enforcement—way too long to figure out what was happening, and then to catch the offender. People want to convince themselves that wasn’t a failure on the part of the law, but that law enforcement was up against multiple villains.”
“Hm.” Jason didn’t buy it. He wasn’t sure even Kennedy bought it, but it seemed to be Kennedy’s last word on the topic.
They continued their meal in silence. The food was good, and Jason was very hungry. He had no complaints.
When their chopsticks finally scraped porcelain, Kennedy pulled his credit card out and signaled for the check. “This will go on my expense report.”
Jason nodded. Obviously their meals were going on one expense report or the other. Was Kennedy afraid Jason might view dinner as a friendly overture? No fear of that.
“How long have you been with the Bureau?” he asked as the portly waiter departed after returning Kennedy’s card and the leather guest-bill presenter.
Kennedy signed the receipt and gave Jason one of those direct blue glances. “Seventeen years.”
“That’s…”
“A long time.”
“Did you start out in law enforcement?”
“No.” Kennedy reached for his wallet. His smile was sardonic. “I started out with the Bureau. Why the sudden curiosity? I thought you were the guy with all the answers.”
Which meant what?
“No. I don’t think I have all the answers.”
“I know damn well you don’t have all the answers, Agent West.” Kennedy gave him a slightly derisive smile. He pushed back his chair with a force that rocked the small table and rose. “I’m going to turn in. See you in the a.m.”
That was clear enough. For a second or two Jason toyed with the comedic possibilities of walking a respectful two paces behind Kennedy all the way back to their motel, but Kennedy would not be amused, and anyway, Jason wasn’t quite ready for bed.
He watched Kennedy, a long, pale shadow, descend the narrow stairs to the alley and then stride through the gloom until he vanished from sight. Jason ate the two fortune cookies that had arrived with the bill.
