Web of Secrets (Agents Under Fire) (9 page)

Chapter Ten

BECCA STEPPED INTO the ER entrance. The smell of disinfectant, mingled with an orange-tinged air freshener covering the stench of sickness and death, brought her feet to a stop. She hated hospitals. She’d hated them since her alcoholic mother had crashed their car, killing herself and nearly killing Becca. There were days in recovery when she’d wished she’d died, too. Even days after recovery. Like the day she’d arrived at her first foster home. The leering father, with his touchy-feely hands. She’d immediately asked for a transfer, but he’d made her life a nightmare until the paperwork went through.

The next home was better, but her new guardians had been only into fostering for the money and rarely gave her any attention. She was used to that. Her mother’s drinking binges had given Becca plenty of time on her own, but surprisingly, she missed her mother. More likely, she missed having someone to take care of and tend to, so she didn’t feel so utterly and completely alone.

So she’d sought a way to keep busy . . . by getting into trouble. She’d been kicked out of one foster home after another. And then she’d found Molly and they’d formed a bond of sisterhood. Van Gogh had ended all of that, and Becca had once again been alone.

Finally, she’d found Elise and it had all changed. Becca had known things were different the night she’d been arrested for underage drinking. She’d waited for Elise to toss her out, as every other foster mother had before that. But Elise had wrapped Becca in a hug and told her no matter what Becca did, she had a place in her home. Becca hadn’t believed it, but Elise had proved it, day after day, year after year, even when Becca didn’t deserve it.

Of course, if Elise had ever found out that Becca had left Molly behind, even Elise wouldn’t have loved her. But Becca wouldn’t dwell on that. She’d do as she’d always done, trying to make up for Molly’s loss by helping others in whatever way she could.

She approached the ER front desk and forced a calmness into her voice that she didn’t feel. She held out her FBI credentials to the woman manning the desk. “I’m looking for Elise Cobb. She’d be with a patient you admitted, a Francine Otto.”

Despite the woman’s smile, she looked harried and belligerent. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any information.”

“I’m her foster daughter. She’s expecting me.”

The woman arched an eyebrow. She clearly didn’t believe Becca, likely figuring this was a ploy to gain access to Elise.

Connor stepped up to the desk. “Now, come on, Sandy. That’s no way to treat my friend.” His voice was filled with humor, his smile easy-going.

“Connor.” Sandy returned his smile. “I didn’t see you there. Let me check this out for you.” She turned to her phone and dialed. Connor leaned against the desk, his ankles casually crossed, the smile still on his face.

Becca gritted her teeth. She hated it when law enforcement officers flirted to get their way. She’d never flirt, but she had to admit, it often succeeded. Especially for guys who looked like Connor. Or maybe she hated this because it
was
Connor, and that likely meant he was doing the same thing with her. Worse, she was falling for it.

Sandy hung up. “The nursing staff is going to tell Ms. Cobb you’re here and arrange for a room where you can meet.”

“How’s your slacker of a husband doing?” Connor asked, humor still in his tone.

Sandy sighed. “He’s still flat on his back.”

“Tell him to quit faking and get back to work. Our records department needs him.” Connor laughed, making the woman chuckle as well.

Becca often wished she could be so laid-back, but it had never been in her nature. Nina was a lot like Connor. Even Kait was more relaxed now that they’d arrested her sister’s killer. But Becca? Nah, she just couldn’t take the time. There were too many people needing her help.

A woman wearing a hospital wristband approached the desk, and Sandy sobered. “Go ahead and take a seat, Connor. I’ll let you know when you can go back.”

Becca crossed the room with Connor. A cold blast of air from the automatic door suddenly made Becca conscious of her attire. Or lack of it. She’d wanted to get to Elise as soon as possible, but still, she should have taken the time to change. If not because of the weather, or the lack of professionalism, but because Connor kept looking at her legs.

She leaned closer to him so no one could overhear. “Did you ID Jane Doe yet?”

He shook his head. “Fingerprints were a bust. Our team is searching every known database for missing girls in general, but so far, nothing.”

“What about the crime scene? Find anything there?”

He hesitated, then looked away and took a breath.

Irritation that only he could seem to bring out in her fired hot. “It’s that way, huh? You want me to share my stuff, but you hold yours close to the vest.”

“No . . . I . . .” He rubbed a hand over his face etched with fatigue, and she felt a moment of regret for pressuring him when he had so much on his plate already. “I don’t mind telling you because I know you’ll keep it confidential, but I hate for you to have to hear this. Oh, shoot, I’ll just come out and say it. Looks like we found three more bodies.”

She gasped and felt that all-encompassing panic return. “So it’s Van Gogh’s private burial ground.”

“Yes.” Connor’s one word held the weight of the horrible discovery.

“Three more,” she said in disbelief and thought about her movements at the crime scene today. Had she crossed over these bodies? Trampled on them. “Where are the bodies located?”

He frowned and hesitated again. She appreciated his consideration but she had to know. “Where, Connor?”

“Near the back of the clearing.” Reluctance slowed his words. “All three were neatly lined up and evenly spaced out, as if Van Gogh made an effort to carefully measure the spacing.”

Becca sighed out a relieved breath. She hadn’t moved any deeper into the clearing than Jane Doe, so she hadn’t stepped on their graves. Wait, graves? She’d been so worried about her movements, it took her a moment to fully process the fact that three more girls had lost their lives. It was official. Van Gogh had killed three more. Three more!

Or were these bodies from the nineties? Molly’s face came to mind.
No. No. No.
Not Molly.

“How long have these girls been buried?” She held her breath.

“We don’t know yet.”

“When will you know?” she asked, needing the answer but hating to hear it.

“Dr. Williams has to fully excavate the bodies. When I left, she was still working on the second girl and had a long way to go. She said it could take a few days, but suggested I stop by tomorrow for an update.”

“So we could be looking at his latest victims or the girls from the nineties.”

“Yes.”

“That means if he really killed eight girls, we could find three more bodies up there.”

“It’s not likely. At least not in the clearing. The cadaver dog didn’t light anywhere else. But we’ll check the area with ground-penetrating radar to be sure. I’ve got a strong hunch we’ve found girls numbered six through nine. Since the girl in the nineties was found elsewhere, it seems unlikely we’d locate the other two up there.”

Not find them? They had to. If they’d all been in the foster system, no one else was looking for them. Girls like her. Like Molly. Like Frankie.

Frankie.
Becca had almost forgotten about Elise and Frankie. Becca looked at Sandy, hoping to get the green light to go in.

Sandy met Becca’s gaze and mouthed, “Soon.”

Becca nodded, but if Sandy didn’t give them the all-clear in a few minutes, Becca would prod her along.

“Are you thinking Van Gogh is still targeting foster girls?” Becca asked.

“Nothing we’ve found says he isn’t.”

“Taylor searched databases today for the credit card investigations. She came up with the names of a few girls who have been reported missing from foster care. She gave the information to me, but I haven’t had a chance to look at it. Maybe there’s a link between those girls and the ones in the clearing.”

“You tell Taylor about Van Gogh?”

His lack of faith in her discretion stung, but she wasn’t going to let him know it. “No. Like I said, it was for the credit card ring.”

“Right,” Connor said. “Sam’s coordinating the search for the girls. Could you forward that information to him?”

She nodded as a horrific thought flashed through her mind. “What if number nine isn’t the end, Connor? What if Van Gogh has simply moved to another area to bury others?”

“It’s not a stretch, I suppose. Especially with the first girl being found clear across town sixteen years ago.” Connor blew out a long breath. “You know what? Let’s not think about that. Not until we have a reason to go there. We already have five unidentified girls with no leads to speak of. Not to mention two others from the past. That’s enough to turn my hair gray.” He shook his head grimly. “I can’t even begin to think about the possibility of others.”

He was right. There was no use in speculating. They’d work the cold, hard facts. Make a plan and stick to it. Setting goals and careful planning had always worked for Becca, except in her quest to find Molly. And it would work now, moving them forward and keeping her focus on the situation, not on how it made her feel.

“Okay,” she said with resolve. “About the anthropologist, this Dr. Williams you mentioned. If you think she needs help, the Bureau has plenty of qualified individuals. I can arrange to have on site by morning.”

He shook his head. “If we reach out to the feds, someone is bound to talk. This case will hit the media, and we’ll have that circus to deal with, too.” He paused then added quickly, “No offense. It’s just that the fewer people who know, the better.”

She wasn’t offended. But she was concerned about getting the best people on the job. Oregon State Police was a skilled and professional agency, but was it up to FBI standards? “Is Dr. Williams qualified for something like this?”

“She may not be a fed, but she’s one of the top forensic anthropologists, and she’s been called in to consult on cases worldwide. So, qualified?” He scoffed. “Yeah, she’s up to the fed’s standards.”

“Wait, no. I didn’t mean it like that. We can’t be fighting about fed, local, or state at this point. We just need to get the best person on the job.”

“We’ll go with her for now, and I’ll ask her if she needs or wants help tomorrow.”

“Sounds like you’ve got this all worked out.”

“I do know what I’m doing, you know. Even if I’m not a fed.” He grinned.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I can’t miss a chance to try to put a smile on your face when we’re dealing with something so dismal.”

She tried to smile, but just couldn’t manage it. Not with Van Gogh still out there killing and Elise inside waiting.

“This is taking too long. I’m gonna check with Sandy.” Becca started to rise.

Connor shot out a hand to stop her. “Sandy’s very capable. She’ll tell us the minute you’re cleared.”

Connor was probably right, but Elise needed Becca. She eyed Sandy again, who was talking with another patient. Becca would wait until she finished with that person and then ask.

“So what else did you find?” she asked Connor.

He frowned. “That’s all for now. We ran out of daylight, but the cadaver dog will start searching the entire trail and nearby areas tomorrow. Maybe expand their search through the park.”

“There’s no way you can cover that much ground, is there? The park is seven miles long.”

“We can check out the two other difficult trails that have easy parking access and would be less used, like this one. Plus, we’ll go over the two adjacent trails. And as I mentioned, we’ll get going on the GPR.”

“Our agency could probably help with that.”

“Good. Vance will be all over not having to foot that bill. You can suggest it at our first status meeting tomorrow.” He shifted in his chair.

“Meeting? What in the world are you talking about?”

“Vance has decided he’d like your help on the case after all. He called Sulyard. They’re meeting first thing in the morning to discuss the terms of your service.”

“Just like that.” She crossed her arms. “You throw me off the scene, and then you want my help and assume I’ll just go along with it?”

“Won’t you?” He grinned, and it made her madder.

“Yes.” She sighed. “But it would have been nice to have been asked.”

“Then after Vance makes the arrangements, I’ll make sure he asks you.” Connor’s grin widened.

She wanted to wipe the smile off his face, but she knew his jokes meant nothing. He was just Connor being Connor. A laid-back guy who seemed to know how to balance his job with life and not get bogged down in the ugliness. She could learn a thing or two from him. Shoot, probably more than two things.

“I’ll look forward to his call then,” she said.

“You should clear your schedule for the day. I’m not sure of the meeting time, but as I said, I’ll be heading back to the scene to talk to Dr. Williams. You might want to come along for that.”

“Thank you. I would.” Her mind immediately went to possible ways to keep the identity theft investigation on track and work the Van Gogh case at the same time. She’d ask Sulyard to get someone else to fill in for her on the credit card case, but after she fought so hard to keep it going, she had no intention of completely withdrawing. Taylor would earn her keep, that was for sure.

“Okay, Connor,” Sandy called out, drawing their attention.

They rose together and crossed the room.

Sandy gestured at a door. “The nursing staff will escort you.”

When the door opened, Becca forgot all about her attire. About Connor. About the antiseptic smell of the hospital. Instead, she wrapped her mind around what she was about to see. Elise, the person who had singlehandedly turned Becca’s life around, waiting for her in a sterile room. A girl she cared for, no longer alive.