Stolen Daughters (Detective Amanda Steele)

She detected a smile in Ronald’s voice. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He hung up first, and she joined Trent in the department car.

“Notification of kin?”

“Yep.” As Trent pulled away, she took in the madness around her—all the people milling about, both civilian and law enforcement—drawn together because of a horrid crime. Some might see this as evidence of humanity, but that wasn’t what Amanda saw. Most people were there because misery loved company and knowing that a calamity had befallen someone else made them feel better about their own lives. They also wanted to feel important, like they mattered.

Like they mattered…

Was that also the case with their killer—assuming the same man had killed both women? Did he want to feel like his journey on this planet was of consequence? In addition, did he require that reassurance from others, possibly long for approval? Was that why he’d left that note for her, to initiate a bond?

She glanced over at Trent. She should tell him about the note on her daughter’s grave in case everything got out of control. As if two bodies in twenty-four hours, on the same street, wasn’t already an indication of that. “There’s something you should know…”

Twenty

Amanda made Trent stop at Hannah’s for a coffee before laying out everything about the note. She needed the caffeine to think straight, for one thing. After a few long draws, and with the diner in the rearview mirror, she told him.

“I really don’t like the sound of that.” Trent was splitting his attention between looking out the windshield and glancing at Amanda in the passenger seat.

They were on the way to give notification to Keira Norris, Shannon Fox’s sister. Amanda couldn’t respond to Trent as she had a mouthful of muffin—something else she’d picked up from the diner.

Trent continued. “It sounds like he’s taunting you. He obviously wants you to know that he can get to you. A threat? Also, to put it on Lindsey’s grave…” Trent winced. “That’s like him saying he knows your darkest secrets.”

She highly doubted that. She harbored some doozies.

“And I know how you feel about investigating the people in Fox’s life,” he added, “but what would make a one-off killer leave a note like that? I mean, it seems obvious it’s from him, and he sounds like someone who intends to kill again.”

“Just striving to keep an open mind.” Maybe if she said it enough, she’d sincerely view Shannon’s murder from a broader perspective.

“How do you think he found out where your daughter’s grave is?”

“Don’t know. I do know that I was in the news back in January, and what happened to my family was made public knowledge—again. He could have found their obits.”

“So he’s a local.”

“I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

Trent pulled into the driveway of a townhouse that was one of many on a string.

“Before we go to Keira’s door, bring up her basic info.” Amanda gestured to the onboard laptop.

Trent clicked away, leaving the car—and the AC running. It was turning out to be a warmer day than yesterday.

A few seconds later, he said, “Pretty straightforward. Thirty-nine, married, no record.”

“All right. And is she Shannon’s only sibling?” She hadn’t had a chance to ask before now.

“Yeah.”

They got out of the vehicle and knocked on the door.

A woman answered. She had long, brown hair, a high forehead, and a round face. “Can I help you?”

What was about to follow was the worst part of the job. Telling people that their loved one had died had been a painful exercise before she’d lost her husband and daughter. After, even worse. There were times it felt like she was reliving that horrid day.

“Mrs. Keira Norris?” Amanda asked.

“Yes.”