Stolen Daughters (Detective Amanda Steele)

Amanda found herself discouraged. It seemed their Jane Doe wasn’t Crystal Foster, and now they had to figure out how she came into possession of Crystal’s pin. Not to mention, by their involving the Fosters, Amanda felt an obligation to find out Crystal’s fate. “Mr. Foster, I can’t say yet—I don’t know. But I’m so sorry we weren’t able to give you an update on your daughter.”

“No. You can’t just leave. You need to find out what happened to her… where she is.” Henry’s eyes filled with tears as he pleaded.

“We’ll do all we can to find Crystal.” Amanda refrained from making a promise, but she’d do whatever she could to deliver closure to the Fosters. And she was feeling a touch hopeful. After all, if the pin had made its way to Dumfries, it was possible Crystal had as well. But now, in addition to stopping a potential serial killer, they had another missing girl to find.

Twenty-Seven

Amanda and Trent left the Fosters considering where their new knowledge left them. Crystal had, it seemed, crossed paths with Jane Doe at some point. But when and where?

“How did she get the pin?” Amanda’s question tumbled out, and Trent glanced over at her as he drove. “It just seems that our victim and the Fosters’ daughter have to be connected…” Her words tapered off, but her mind was spinning like mad. It was as if the link was right there, but she couldn’t quite grasp it. She thought about what little she knew about Crystal. It appeared she’d run away because of the all-too-common teenage longing for freedom and thinking she could do better on her own. Physical abuse couldn’t be confirmed as they didn’t have Crystal’s body in the morgue, but her parents had been too busy to be a part of her life. She had acted out, a well-known ploy for getting attention. Acted out… Crystal had also fallen in with a bad bunch of kids. Probably associates who understood her, who were close to her— “The card at the memorial,” she blurted out. “The one signed off with C and the doodle of the dragonfly. The Fosters said that Crystal loved dragonflies. Was Crystal a friend of Doe’s? And, if so, did Crystal give Doe her pin? And were they friends for a long time? It’s a long shot, but maybe a friend she also ran away with?”

“You think so? The pin was worth a lot. Why would she give it away? And don’t you think the Fosters would have said something if their daughter’s friend ran away too?”

“Who knows what happened on the streets? But the Fosters were too busy to notice their own daughter, let alone know her friends. Probably.” The tiny crack of doubt sank in her gut like a boulder. Either way, she wouldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t try. “Turn us around. Take us back to the Fosters.”

They’d only gotten a couple blocks away, so hopefully Henry would still be there.

She twisted and looked out the back window as if that would get them there faster.

Trent turned them around and pulled into the Fosters’ drive just as Henry was getting into his Jag. He stopped, one leg in his car, and stepped back out when he saw them. His brow was furrowed, and he had his cell phone to an ear.

Amanda got out of the department car and went to him, Trent in step with her.

“I’ll call you back.” Henry pocketed his phone. “Detectives? I thought you said it wasn’t Crystal. Did you change your mind?”

Amanda shook her head. “I’ve got a question for you.”

“Sure.”

“At the time Crystal ran away, did any of her friends also go missing?” It was a shot in the dark, but one worth taking. As her father always told her, it was better to ask the questions and get nowhere than fail to ask and miss the mark.

The front door opened, and Leila stepped onto the landing. “What’s going on?” Her body language was stiff, and she crossed her arms.

Amanda walked to her, and Henry followed, though it felt to Amanda like she was leading him to the execution chair. But this wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have the neighbors overhearing.

“I’m just wondering if any of Crystal’s friends also ran away around the same time she did?” Amanda said.

“The Lynches,” Leila said.

Amanda had expected some denial and protest. “The Lynches? And they are…?” She looked from Leila to Henry, who wore a quizzical expression, like he had no idea.

Leila leveled at glare at Henry. “You really that out of touch?” She turned to Amanda. “The Lynches lived a few doors down. They had a daughter named Ashley. Two nights after Crystal ran away, Ashley’s mother came to our door looking for her daughter. She said her daughter was here for a sleepover. First time I’d heard of it. And she certainly wasn’t here. Before that night, I’d never met Mrs. Lynch. I’ve never met their daughter.”

“But you’d seen them around before?” Trent asked.

“Sure. I’m not blind, but it’s not like I ever paid them any real attention.” Leila huffed out a deep breath as if agitated she had been placed in a position in which she felt the need to defend herself. She looked at her husband and jutted out her chin. “Detective Robbins asked us about Ashley Lynch. You really don’t remember?”

He flushed but said nothing.

Robbins must have been the detective assigned the missing person cases. They hadn’t gotten that far before heading to Washington. Amanda pulled up the picture of Jane Doe on her phone again and held it for Leila to see. “Do you think that could be their daughter?”

She shook her head. “Honestly, as I said, I never met her or paid the family any real attention.”

“Did Crystal ever mention having a friend named Ashley?” Trent asked.

Leila looked at him. “No.”

Amanda wasn’t taking that as confirmation. From the picture the couple had painted of their family life, she’d probably been optimistic that they could have named any of their daughter’s friends. But Amanda’s gut instinct about returning to the Fosters’ seemed like it might pay off. “Do the Lynches still live just down the street?” Amanda looked left and right, taking in the other gorgeous houses around them, but would guess, based on Leila’s use of the past tense, the Lynches had moved on.