Hampton Bays. It’s a small cottage, close to Tiana Bay. He rented it year-round. It was about twenty minutes from Westhampton Beach, where I live. He was working on some big real-estate development project in Southampton. We didn’t get into the details. But enemies? I can’t imagine anyone hating Paul. He was easygoing and charismatic. And I also can’t imagine why he’d disappear. Things were so good between us. And I never even got a chance to tell him about Justin.” Amanda’s voice quavered. “When I think that way, I’m sure he must be dead. Nothing else makes sense. But, on the other hand, where is his body? Why didn’t the Coast Guard ever turn up anything? It makes no sense.”
“The police dismissed the case,” Casey continued. “Did they leave any doors open?”
“They said they had nothing to go on. No suspects, no motives and no body.” Amanda took a quick gulp of her coffee. “As for D.C., your guess is as good as mine. Paul never mentioned any friends or relatives there. Could he have gotten a project there? Of course. But I have no way of knowing.”
“Okay, let’s get to Paul’s cottage. Do you know if it’s been rented out?”
“I don’t know,” Amanda replied, looking puzzled. “But what difference does that make? All his things are gone. I donated everything to charity except items that had sentimental value to me.”
“I’ll need to see those items. Also, I’ll need the name of Paul’s landlord.” Casey gave the simpler explanation first. “As for the house, I’d like to get permission to go inside. I don’t know whether or not you’re a believer, but Claire Hedgleigh, one of my team members, is a brilliant intuitive. She might pick up on something just from being in Paul’s surroundings—especially if no one’s lived there for the past eight months. And she’ll definitely have a shot at sensing something from the personal items you’re talking about.”
“You’re talking about a psychic.”
Casey’s lips curved. “Claire hates that term, but yes. A psychic. She was crucial to solving our last big case, and before she joined Forensic Instincts, she was tremendously successful working with law enforcement.”
“If she can help tell us if Paul’s alive and where he is, I’m all for it.”
“Good. Then you won’t balk at my next request. Last night when you spoke to Marc at the office, you met Hero. He’s another unconventional member of our team—a human scent evidence dog. Between sniffing out Paul’s place and sniffing the scent pads we’ll make from Paul’s personal things, he’ll be able to zero in on Paul’s presence within miles—if and when we get to that point. So, can you give me the information on Paul’s landlord? I’ll make a few phone calls and check the status of the cottage. Also, would you make a mental note of whatever mementos you have? We’ll drive out to the Hamptons together either later today or tomorrow, depending on when you can make arrangements to leave your son.”
Amanda shut her eyes for an instant. “Thank you for understanding,” she said simply. “My friend Melissa has offered to stay with him whenever I need to leave. And it’s not as if the hospital staff isn’t in constant contact with me. I just feel better when I’m close by. It’s not logical. It’s just being Justin’s mother.”
“I don’t blame you.” Casey pushed back her chair and rose. “You go to your son. I’ll call you as soon as we’re good to go.”
Ryan was leaning over his computer, deep in concentration, when Claire walked in.
“Where is everybody?” she asked.
“Ever hear of knocking?” Ryan’s gaze never left his monitor.
“Why? Is this a private sanctuary?”
“Actually, yeah, it is.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Then put a lock on the door. Or at least keep it shut.” She walked over to Hero, who’d jumped up from his nap the minute she walked in. He gazed at her hopefully, and with good reason. Claire was definitely the soft touch of the team, not only in her handling of the cases, but in her handling of Hero. Her sensitivity went right along with her pale blond hair, light gray eyes and willowy figure—not to mention the ethereal quality that emanated from her.
She didn’t have many buttons that set her off. But Ryan McKay was one of them.
Now Claire’s lips curved as she scratched Hero’s ears. The bloodhound’s gaze was locked on her.
“In my pocket,” she told him, reaching in and pulling out a piece of cheese. She offered it to him. He slurped it up and swallowed it in one bite.
“You’re a doormat,” Ryan noted. “And you’re going to put five pounds on him in less than a year.”
“It’s low-fat cheese. No harm, no foul.” Claire scanned the room, taking in the workout equipment, the vast array of computers, servers and network wires, and the centerpiece of the room: a long line of semicompleted robots—all surrounded by a pile of metal and plastic parts that were just waiting to be used.
“I wouldn’t worry about my touching anything in your precious basement,” she retorted. “I’d trip and kill myself if I tried. Plus, I don’t know what half this stuff is anyway. Especially your toy section. Robots were never my thing.”
“No, you’re more of a tarot card girl.”
Despite her vow to remain impervious to Ryan’s barbs, Claire grimaced. “You’re so narrow-minded, it’s sickening. And FYI, I don’t do tarot cards. Or Ouija boards.”
“Séances?”
“Nope.”
“You’re a boring psychic.”
“And you’re a pain in the ass.”
Ryan spun his chair around, leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. He looked disgustingly amused. “Nice comeback. Cold, too. I’m getting to you.”
Claire shot him a look. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Then why’d you drop by? No one uses the basement but me. The conference room is two flights up.” He pointed at the ceiling.
“I know where it is.” Claire folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here because I got a call from Casey. She said we’re having a full team meeting. I went straight to the conference room. When no one was up there, I chose the obvious—you. You live in this cave. So, I came down to check and see if you knew anything.”
“Yup. A full team meeting it is. Casey called me, too.” Ryan glanced at his watch. “She’s on her way. So’s Patrick. And Marc’s in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee and probably eating my trail mix.”
“Fine. Then I’ll go up and wait.” Claire hesitated. “Did you find anything?”
Ignoring Claire’s question, Ryan leaned forward and pressed the print button on his computer. A handful of pages glided out. He strolled over and picked them up, perusing them as he did. “You’ll know when everyone else does,” he said at last.
Claire didn’t answer. Trying to reason with a preschooler was pointless. She just left the room and shut the door behind her with a firm click.
Ryan glanced up at the closed door, his lips curving into a lazy smile.
All humor was off ten minutes later as the team gathered around the conference room table.
“I met with Amanda Gleason,” Casey began, hands folded in front of her. “Marc was dead-on in his assessment. The woman is desperate. The situation is heartbreaking. Time is of the essence. And we’re going to save this baby at all costs.” She turned to Ryan. “What do you have for us?”
“Let’s start with my facial recognition software. I did a comparison of the guy in Amanda’s photos with the enhanced image of the guy in the cell phone picture. Using elastic bunch graph matching techniques