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“What?” I asked, setting the food down on the small table in front of the couch and smacking Cabot’s hand when he attempted to reach for the container. Fucking children, all of them.
“You look just like our boss, but that can’t be right because he was a workaholic with no social skills. You look far too relaxed and,” he feigned a gasp, “is that happiness?” He shot a mock look of surprise to Cabot who again, rolled his eyes. “Could this be the result of doing what we suggested so long ago?”
“Funny,” I growled, “You look like Fitz, but you sound as obnoxious as Kasey.” With that I turned and grabbed Kasey by the collar of his Batman t-shirt and hauled him back. If he was surprised that I’d caught him sneaking toward the tacos, he didn’t show it.
“Come on, Deck. She ruined my shirt with this food, I should at least get to taste it.” He sounded nasally, and again, I thought of a child throwing a tantrum.
“Maybe you should have thought about that when you were using your damn cameras to scare Lake.” I sat on the couch next to Cabot and opened the container taking a bite out of each taco before finally chewing and swallowing. Damn, she really could cook.
Kasey looked with disgust at the tacos and shook his head. “I’m offended that you think taking a bite out of each would actually stop me.” But he returned to the computer behind his desk and the room shifted effortlessly to the work at hand.
“Interpol and FBI are still working on the Voss and De Carlo kidnappings, but so far, they’ve got shit to go on. Nothing posted to social media, no phone activity, not a single cent removed from their bank accounts.” Kasey turned from his screen and shook his head. “Once they got into that car, they were just gone.”
“Who is working the case from the FBI?” I asked between bites of food. The delicious food quickly turned to ash on my tongue and I passed the remainder of the tacos to Cabot, who promptly dug in.
Luckily, Kasey was already scanning his screen and missed the interaction. “Looks like someone named Geiger.”
The name meant nothing to me, then again my paths rarely crossed with the FBI anymore. Still, if there was a chance that the missing women had something to do with the entire mess surrounding Lake, I needed them willing to share information.
“I’ll call Mal and see if he can get a sit-down with this Agent Geiger. The faster we have everyone on the same page, the faster we can figure out if there is a connection.”
“I’ve got some information out of Interpol,” Fitz said, still staring down at his phone. “I’ve been talking with a former colleague who works over there now, and he sent me information on another possibility with Bailey and Monica. Kasey, I just sent it to you.”
“Got it,” Kasey called out, far too loudly. He immediately had his wall of screens filled with reports of women who had gone missing while out at clubs. The number on the screen was startling as Cabot, Fitz and I moved closer to the screen.
“Jesus Christ,” Cabot murmured, his hand rubbing down his beard.
“Yeah, I can’t say for sure that Bailey and Monica are connected to those cases, but I think they might be to ours.” Fitz’ voice seemed to fade into a low hum as my eyes tried to focus on all the women at once.
But when looking at the women individually, nothing stood out, they were all petite, white or white-passing with rich dark hair, light eyes and, if one was just skimming over them, they could have passed for Lake Harrington.
“How many?” I hardly recognized the choked words coming out of my own mouth that had gone completely dry.
“Fourteen,” Kasey answered and a rock hit the bottom of my stomach.
“How far back?” This question came from Fitz as he was studying the screens as a whole, taking it in like a puzzle.
This answer took longer as Kasey clicked and typed away behind us. “Oldest abduction was four years ago.”
The buzzing grew louder in my ears and the need to get eyes on Lake was warring with the need to fucking end this and make sure she could live in safety again.
“Hey Kase, can you map out the country of each case for me? Just like name and country and date?” Fitz was rolling his bottom lip between his index finger and thumb, and the room fell silent as Kasey sent the requested information up on the screen.
This was the moment that Cabot and I knew to step back and wait. Fitzpatrick O’Rourke had the uncanny ability to sift through information much like a computer, but he could work it out without the need for prompts. It was why he and Kasey tended to work well together on any investigation we were pulled in on.
“Barcelona,” he said with a gasp and immediately we were scanning the list for the location in question.
Elena Rodriguez had gone missing from a club on the boardwalk in Barcelona just over a month ago. My mind shot to the irritating phone call with Kasey before we even started this job. He had been joking about picking Lake up from her hotel in Barcelona to make sure she made it to the meeting with her father. A meeting that she’d blown off multiple times before.
“No fucking way,” Kasey said softly before he began almost pounding on the keys as he worked. The screen split into two sides and on the left was the list Fitz had asked for and to the right was Lake’s travel history.
Every single missing woman on the screen corresponded with the date Lake was in the country. Her travel log surpassed the number of missing women, but now I was wondering if each date on that long list had a missing woman to go along with it.
“Four years,” I whispered, shaking my head at the screen. We’d needed a break in our case, not something more convoluted. “It’s always been about Lake.” That was the take away from the information sprawled before me. This had always been a sick game to someone watching Lake. For four years, some monster had watched her, followed her, and stolen her no less than fourteen times.
“Fitz, send Lake’s travel history to your contact at Interpol. Let them know about the investigation we have ongoing. I don’t want them trying to label Lake a serial killer or something.” He gave me a look, but nodded. He knew as well as I did that with the wrong person investigating, the easiest road would be traveled and they wouldn’t look past Lake’s connection. “Ask your contact to see if there are any other cases that correlate with the dates of her trips. Tell them to keep their searches to younger white women with dark hair.”
“You know police agencies aren’t as good with filters as I am,” Kasey said with an impatient huff. When I shot him a look, he gave a small shrug. “Just saying they won’t be able to search that way.”
