seeing as an officer and one of the girls died. But I’m not comfortable not knowing everything.”
Miles asked a few more questions, making sure he had the names of the other girls spelled correctly, and that he had the dates written down both of when they were taken and when they were found. Then he closed his notebook. “Our focus now is finding Holly. We’ll pull Holly’s driver’s license photo from the database. Send it around to see if anyone recognizes her.”
“Wait.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “That picture is almost four years old. She’s lost weight and changed her hair.”
Darting back into Holly’s room, she grabbed Holly’s tablet and clicked on the photo app. She used her finger to scroll through the pictures until she found the one she wanted. Perfect. It was recent enough that it had Holly’s new trendy haircut.
She rejoined Miles and Sergeant Jackson at the table and handed over the tablet.
Miles took the tablet and held it so Jackson could see it, too. “That’s Holly,” she signed, and pointed at the laughing girl. Miles smiled, but his eyes narrowed. He had something else on his mind.
A second later, he proved her right. He tapped a second picture. When it filled the screen, he pointed to the girl next to Holly and signed, “Who’s this?”
“That’s Ashley. It must have been taken a few years ago, because she and Holly don’t hang out anymore. They had some kind of argument over a man they had both dated.”
“Ashley—” he checked his notebook “—Kline? Holly’s friend from high school?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
He handed the device to Sergeant Jackson, continuing to sign as he spoke so that Rebecca would know what he was saying.
“Do you recognize her? I know I have seen her face somewhere, but can’t place it.”
Sergeant Jackson took the tablet and studied the photo. A frown etched itself into his face as he considered the image.
“Yeah, I have seen her before. But I don’t know where. We need to get the pictures to the station, have them compared to the database. Could you email these images to us? Or maybe we could take the tablet, in case there are better images?”
Miles’s hands flew as he interpreted. When he finished, Rebecca nodded. “Will Holly get the tablet back?”
Miles exchanged glances with Jackson. “If it’s at all possible, we’ll return it,” he signed. What he didn’t add was that it all depended on if they found Holly alive. It was in their expressions. She shivered. Please, let Holly be okay.
“I’m going to send those pics in now, actually,” Miles interjected. Jackson raised his eyebrow. “That way they can start looking for Holly, and run a search on Ashley. But we will still need to hold on to the device, just in case.”
Rebecca took the tablet back and shared the selected images in a text with Miles.
He pulled out his phone and looked at the images. Then he fiddled with his phone some more. “Done. I sent them in.” He put the phone back in his pocket.
His watch lit up. She started. She recognized it as one of those new high-tech watches. It was neon green. Funny. She didn’t often see people her age wearing watches. Watching his blond hair flop on his forehead, she decided it fit him.
“Lieutenant Tucker says he got the pictures and will make sure they are processed.” His watch lit up again. He tapped it and read the message. “He also says that the visual artist can be there later this morning. You can come in and give her a description of your attacker. Maybe you’ll remember something that will help us find him. We should head out. Jackson?”
The other officer nodded once, then got to his feet to head to the door. Miles stood as well, but instead of walking away, he moved toward her. He leaned forward, so close she caught the clean, sharp scent of him. No cologne, just soap, shampoo and Miles. “I can tell you this. I find it doubtful that you and your roommate would be attacked the same night by accident. Someone is after you. We just have to figure out who.”
* * *
It took some doing, but Miles was finally able to convince Rebecca to come to the police station with him to give a description to the visual artist. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. Turning to the police just seemed to be awkward for her. Growing up, her community didn’t go for outside help easily. He understood that. Even though she’d left the Amish community, she was still very close with her family. Those influences would be hard for her to overcome.
He also had a sneaking suspicion that her experiences with the legal system at the age of fifteen didn’t help. He knew from watching the trial after his stepsister was murdered that people could be brutal to innocents. Especially the press.
He remembered the agony his father had gone through after his mother had been killed in such a sensational manner. He’d only been four, but some memories stayed with you forever. He shuddered as he remembered the way his father had been hounded by reporters, who wanted to know more about the famous model who’d died in a car crash while running off with another man. Leaving her child behind.
His father had become a broken man. But he’d had the wisdom to send his only child to live with his parents and younger brother. Spending the next two years with his father’s deaf relatives had sheltered him from the worst of the drama, and connected him to a community he wouldn’t have learned about otherwise.
“Hey, catch you later.” Jackson sketched a casual wave and sauntered to his own car. Miles jerked back, grateful to be pulled out of his morbid memories.
“See you.” Miles opened the passenger-side door for Rebecca, then jogged around to his own side.
As soon as the door shut, she turned to face him.
“Do you really think someone kidnapped Holly?”
How to answer that? Miles wasn’t into giving false hope, but he also didn’t want to escalate the situation with unsubstantiated theories. “I think we need to consider all the possibilities.” There. How was that for diplomacy?
She wrinkled her nose. “But if it was the same person, why wasn’t I kidnapped when that man attacked me last night?”
He twisted his body so he could give her his full attention. “I don’t want to scare you. But we have no idea what your attacker would have done if you had not escaped. He may have meant to knock you unconscious and then kidnap you all along.” She raised her hands, and he motioned for her to wait. “I don’t have the answers yet. I intend to get them. Please, can you trust me a little longer?”
She didn’t like it. He could see that, but she relented and let him start the car.
Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled into the station. As he led her into the building, he could see her shoulders stiffen. Her arms were folded in typical closed-off body language. He wished she would look at him, just so that he could send her a comforting look, or try to make small talk. Anything to make the situation easier. But she wouldn’t look anywhere but straight ahead.
In the conference room, he saw that the interpreter had already arrived. Miles introduced the two women. Rebecca stared at the brunette with the edgy haircut with something akin to suspicion.
“Olsen!”
Lieutenant Jace Tucker approached, his forehead heavily creased. Uh-oh. Whatever happened, Miles wasn’t sure he wanted to know about it. Jace Tucker was known for his no-nonsense attitude. He was also fair-minded. A man who commanded respect. Most of all, he was good at remaining calm and impartial, rarely letting his emotions show while he was working. That he looked visibly upset right now was a very bad sign.
“Yes, sir?”
“Is Miss Miller in there?”
What was this about? “Yes. I just brought her in to meet with the visual artist. She hasn’t arrived