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Savich divided MAX’s screen into four quadrants, a photo of a kidnapped girl in each quadrant.
Griffin said after a moment, “The four girls do seem to resemble each other a bit, their general build, their coloring, but not enough to grab your attention. So I doubt those similarities are much of a factor. Now we need a photo of Camilla Bodine. Do you have one, Savich?”
“Yes, from a local newspaper when she disappeared.” The four quadrants became two, one divided into four smaller squares, each with the photo of a kidnapped girl, the other half of the screen Camilla Bodine’s face.
Savich said, “Anyone see a resemblance between Camilla Bodine and the four girls?”
Carson said, “Not much, though the shapes of their faces are a bit similar. But wait—their eyes. Look at their shape, their color. Does anyone else see it? They’ve got what I’d call dark, brooding eyes. Camilla, too.”
Savich said, “Yeah, okay. There’s the hair and eye color, but nothing else I can see to tie them physically to Camilla Bodine. Linzie Drumm, now her eyes are a very dark green, something like Cyndia Bodine’s eyes.”
Sherlock said, “So you think their eyes might have something to do with why they were taken? That seems a bit thin. Has there been any hint these girls were thought by their friends or families to be different or unusual? To have anything like psychic gifts?”
Griffin said, “Nothing like that appears in any of the police reports, not even in Sheriff Bodine’s notes on Heather Forrester, and you’d think he’d have heard if she was considered in any way psychic.” He shook his head. “If the girls were gifted, no one would say anything because of the parents, so who knows?”
Carson said, “So we’re left with thinking these specific girls were taken because Cyndia and Quint believed their eyes are like their missing daughter’s and because they believed it meant the girls could be gifted? Like their daughter?”
Sherlock said, “It sounds crazy, but it might be reasonable, given our meeting with Cyndia and what happened.”
Savich said, “Quint drugs them to keep them calm. They interact with Cyndia, watch old movies with her. Why? Because Cyndia wants one of them to replace her missing daughter? That’s over the top.”
Griffin said, “Yes, it sounds flat-out crazy. I mean, you want to replace your daughter so you commit a federal crime by kidnapping four girls who vaguely resemble her?”
Sherlock said, “Guys, remember when Cyndia hurt me that first time we visited Eagle’s Nest? I was coming back to the house to tell Dillon I thought something was off with the garage. I’ll bet they’ve built rooms, apartments, under the garage, and that’s where they’re keeping the girls. Can we get the plans? Someone had to have done the building.”
Savich said, “That makes sense, Sherlock. You’d need to have the girls close to have full control, to study them, to monitor them, give them drugs, whatever. I’ll set MAX on it, see if he can find plans.” He typed in instructions as he listened to Carson, who said, “Don’t forget Jessalyn, the sheriff’s wife. Is she involved?”
Griffin said, “We’ll have to consider all of them involved until proven otherwise. Savich, Sherlock, please write down everything you remember reading before it was erased. We need all the ammunition we can get. Any chance we can get a warrant?”
Savich said, “Unfortunately, a warrant went out the window with my hacking Quint’s computer, a primo illegal search. We knew that going in. But it leaves no doubt where we’re headed.”
Sherlock said, “You know what I think? Even though Quint wrote that journal, and he probably administers the drugs, my bet is it’s Cyndia who wanted this, it’s Cyndia who’s driving the bus. I’ll bet she’s the one with the power to control all of them.”
Griffin said, “I will say after our interview with them this evening, it was obvious she has complete control over Rafer.”
Savich said, “Okay, quick search. MAX didn’t spot any plans immediately for construction under the garage, which means either they weren’t ever filed, or Quint had them destroyed. Griffin, anything to report on Linzie Drumm’s kidnapping?”
Griffin told them about the little girl seeing Rafer Bodine in Whytheville at the burger place, and gave them more detail about their visit to Eagle’s Nest. “After what happened at the Bodines’ this evening, I have a feeling time’s running out.” He stopped. He wasn’t about to tell his boss he knew he had to act quickly now or those girls might die. He wasn’t about to lay this on Savich. He would call Bettina Kraus at Richmond, arrange for backup. For tonight.
Griffin said easily, “Sounds like I need to do interviews tomorrow with each of the kidnapped girls’ parents, verify if they were considered different, had special abilities. Send me what you remember from Quint’s file before it was erased.”
“Yes, I will.” After Savich punched off, he and Sherlock recorded everything on MAX they could remember before the wipe program had erased the words, emailed it to Griffin. Savich turned off the light and eased a bit closer to Sherlock.
He felt her warm breath on his shoulder, said against her hair, “It’s coming together. Don’t worry about Griffin. He’s not stupid. He’ll do what’s smart and needful.”
Savich also trusted Griffin to arrange for backup. “Now we figure out what’s going on with Justice. At least he’s with us and as safe as we can make him. Justice made me promise no one would know where he is, not even Mr. Maitland, which will piss him off, royally.”
Sherlock said thoughtfully, “I wonder what ‘smart walls’ means?”
He loved her brain, the way she looked at things, made leaps and connections. “We’ll ask Justice more about all of it tomorrow. You ready to sleep, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. Was that his usual endearment for her? She swallowed, took a leap. “Maybe you want to kiss me, Dillon?”
Did he want to kiss her? Was she nuts? He’d like a whole lot more, but it was a wonderful start, and it was her idea. He turned his head to smile into her beloved face. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “what if you start singing and wake up Justice?”
She was dead silent for about a second, then she laughed, her warm breath fluttered against his cheek. “You willing to chance it?”
