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Ellie grabbed coffee for her and Derrick on the way to the office, the scent of the dark brew jumpstarting her fatigued brain. When he looked up from his laptop, his coal-black eyes glimmered with a mixture of worry and anger.
“I’ve been digging into that group MWC,” he said. “It claims to bring families together by pairing a child in need with a mother who, for one reason or another, can’t conceive one of her own.”
“There are dozens of legal services for personal adoptions,” Ellie said. “If it’s legit, why advertise on the dark web?”
“Exactly.” Derrick leaned back in the chair and gestured toward the IP address. “I’ve made contact.”
Ellie’s pulse hammered. “You did?”
“I have a plan. At least that is, if you agree.”
Curious, she sank into her chair. “Okay, run it by me.”
“I think we should pose as a couple looking for a child.” His expression was solemn as he let his suggestion linger in the air.
“Us?” She crossed her legs, her brows arching.
“What better way to get information than to go undercover?” He rocked back in his chair. “If you don’t want to do it, I’ll ask another agent to.”
“No, if there’s a chance Autumn was involved in this and it has to do with Ava, I’ll do it,” Ellie agreed.
“I picked up a laptop this morning on my way that can’t be traced back to the FBI or us.”
Ellie tapped her fingers on her thigh. “All right, what’s our story?”
A small smile twinkled in Derrick’s eyes, and Ellie felt a flush along her neck. “You knew I’d agree, didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “Yes,” he admitted. “You’re a go-getter, Ellie. I trust you’ll do whatever it takes to rescue this child.”
Ellie nodded. “Then let’s get to work. If these people have Ava, they could pass her to someone else and we might never find her.”
Worse, if they had international ties, Ava could be on a plane halfway around the world by now.
Sixty-Six
Honeysuckle Lane
Lara felt limp with exhaustion and worry. Jasper seemed to be reacting the opposite way—he was jittery and couldn’t sit still. She’d heard him pacing the floors all night.
Before she’d finally collapsed around midnight, she’d watched the news and seen that reporter asking Detective Reeves about Nolan Grueler. She’d gotten so angry she wanted to scream. How dare the detective protect that son of a bitch while her little girl was lost.
She’d laid in bed and thought of a hundred ways to kill him herself. All painful and final.
God help her, she was losing her mind. If he knew something about Ava, he had to regain consciousness and tell them.
The phone buzzed and she saw it was Emily. Although Emily’s voice was almost melodic it was so calming, Lara didn’t have the strength to talk right now, so she let it go to voicemail then listened to the message.
“Hey, Lara, it’s Em. I’m just checking to see how you’re holding up.” Compassion softened her words. “There’s a support group on Facebook I thought you might be interested in. It’s called Mothers of Missing Children. I’m going to send you the link.” She hesitated. “Anyway, it might help to talk to some other mothers. If you want me to come later, please call or text me anytime, day or night. I’m here for you.”
Emily was definitely a godsend. She was there for everybody.
But Lara pushed the idea of joining the group away. How could listening to horrible stories from other mothers who’d lost their children possibly help her?
Dragging on her robe, she staggered down the stairs and found Jasper sitting at the kitchen table thumbing through the photo albums she’d compiled. Most people these days kept a library of their photos online. But she was old fashioned and she and her daughter had made scrapbooks of Ava’s art, and she’d printed her favorite photos to chronicle Ava’s childhood.
She hadn’t wanted to forget the sweet special moments and her daughter’s exuberance for life. Jasper’s body shook with emotion, and as she passed him to get coffee, she realized he was looking at the picture of the day they’d brought Ava home.
Her chest squeezed with tenderness. That day she and Jasper had been so close, both excited and nervous. After thirty-six hours in labor, they’d been thrilled when Ava had popped out, all pink and wiggling and crying. Lara remembered the midwife pulling her gown away for her to nurse her baby and how Jasper had watched in awe. Two days later, they’d dressed their newborn in a tiny pink and white onesie and a hot pink bow, wrapped her in a blanket, settled her in her car seat and brought her back to the nursery Lara had designed herself. Jasper had carried her inside, holding her so carefully, as if she was a delicate piece of glass that might break.
