Cut and Run (Criminal Profiler 2)

Among the belongings were a hairbrush, lipstick, mace, PowerBars, and receipts for food and gas and a withdrawal from an ATM. There were also her cracked cell phone, breath mints, and a hotel key.

“What about that phone?” Hayden asked. “Any record of calls? I hear she was trying to call me.”

“That’s correct,” Savage said. “But she was hit before she finished dialing. There’s a voicemail from Dr. McIntyre’s office.”

“They were trading messages,” he said. “What else is on the phone?”

“She also visited the website for the medical examiner’s office and did a search on Dr. McIntyre.”

“She saw a picture of her?” Hayden asked.

“It was on the page she pulled up.”

How had Macy been tipped off about Faith? Had she learned something when she’d visited Jack Crow’s trailer?

“No more calls,” Savage went on to say, “but Special Agent Crow did snap a selfie in what looks like her hotel room, as well as a picture of a missing person poster, all on the night she was attacked.” Savage opened the phone and showed the Rangers the pictures of the selfie and the missing person poster. “Remember Paige Sheldon?”

Paige. The name Macy had given the responding officer. “Sure. She was a pregnant teenager who vanished about eight months ago.”

Savage pulled up the case on her computer. It was the same picture on the flyer, but this one was more vivid, in color, and showcased her stunning looks. “She’s now nineteen, and according to the missing person report, she vanished in May,” Savage said.

“Why did Macy take a picture of her poster?” Hayden asked.

“Missing girls, runaways, and black market babies are the exact kind of case Macy Crow specializes in investigating.” Savage spoke the words as if she were saying Hayden’s thoughts out loud. “She’d have been drawn to a poster like Paige Sheldon’s.”

These cases got under Hayden’s skin because he remembered how Sierra used to talk to him about adoption. They had always known she couldn’t have children, so adoption had been the plan. They had just been referred for a mixed-race toddler when she’d been diagnosed with cancer. Adoption was put on hold, and whenever she was sick from the chemo, he’d remind her that one day she’d hold their baby in her arms.

“Is there a geotag on the picture?” Hayden asked.

“Yeah,” Savage said. “It was taken on Third Street outside a bar called Second Chances, which is two blocks from where she was struck by the vehicle.”

“Her old man gets brutally murdered. Macy’s in town less than five hours, visits a bar, takes the time to snap a picture of Paige Sheldon’s flyer, and then an attempt is made on her life,” Hayden said. “I want to talk to Paige Sheldon’s family. Macy Crow saw something, and I want to know what it was. What else did you find?”

“Her Uber app showed she was picked up at a hotel at ten p.m. last night.” Savage reached for the hotel key that was among Macy’s belongings. “I called the hotel, identified myself, and told them to hold off on housekeeping until we can investigate the room. The manager said Macy wasn’t supposed to check out until Friday and had put a Do Not Disturb sign on her door. The room should be untouched.”

Hayden wrote down the hotel name and address. “I’ll check it out.” He looked at the picture of the Paige Sheldon flyer Macy had taken outside Second Chances.

“She might have left more information in her hotel room,” Savage said.

“Which is exactly why we’re headed there.”

The drive to Macy Crow’s hotel room took Hayden and Brogan just under twenty minutes. It was an average, nondescript chain hotel that could be found in hundreds of cities across America. They introduced themselves to the clerk, who ducked into the back and brought out the manager, a tall man with short, graying hair.

He came from behind the front desk and extended his hand. “I’m Jay Sanchez. You called about one of our guests?”

“That’s right,” Brogan said. “We’d like to see Macy Crow’s room.”

“It was a hit-and-run?” the manager asked.

“She passed away late last night, and we’re trying to find out what happened.” Brogan was sticking to the story that Macy was dead.

“That’s terrible,” Sanchez said. “Of course I’ll show you the room.”

As they rode the elevator to the third floor, Hayden asked, “When did she check in?”

“Yesterday,” he said. “She was supposed to check out on Friday.”

“Did you notice anything about Ms. Crow?” Hayden asked. “Did she have any visitors?”

“No visitors that I know of, but I don’t work the front desk anymore.” The elevator doors opened, and Sanchez extended his hand and waited for them to exit. “I did ask the gals that worked the front desk, and none of them remembered. I’m having the surveillance tapes pulled. As soon as I get the all clear from corporate, I’ll turn them over.”

The manager stopped at room 342, where a DO NOT DISTURB sign dangled from the door handle. He removed a passkey from his pocket, swiped it, and opened the door. “Ms. Crow checked in Monday, but she didn’t have a reservation. I checked the room status myself when Ms. Savage called to confirm that housekeeping had not been inside. As you can see, they haven’t.”

“Did you enter the room?” Hayden asked.

“No. I didn’t want to disrupt anything.”

“Great. Thank you for your time, Mr. Sanchez,” Hayden said. “We’ll take it from here.”

“Glad to help.” Sanchez lingered a beat and then, accepting that Hayden wouldn’t allow him inside, nodded and stepped aside. Hayden pulled on latex gloves, flipped on the lights, and closed the door.

Brogan worked his fingers into gloves. “Give us a clue, Macy.”

The room was furnished with the standard two double beds, a desk and chair, a bureau, and a television. Both beds were still made, but judging by the towels on the bathroom floor and the open soap packets, she had showered in the short time she was here.

A blue zippered bag filled with cosmetics, tampons, toothbrush, toothpaste, and razor sat on the bathroom counter. In the shower, the shampoo and conditioner bottles were open.

Hayden looked at the blond strands of hair in the hairbrush, and his mind flashed to a memory of Faith running her hands through her very thick hair. She’d quipped once that sometimes the locks were like having a sheepdog on her head.

There was a coffee maker plugged into the wall, and beside it were two wrapped mugs and K-Cups. The trash can was clean.

Hayden stripped the top blanket on one of the beds and removed the pillowcases from the pillows before yanking off the sheets. He skimmed his hands under first one mattress and then the other but found nothing.

Brogan opened and searched the bureau drawers. The first was empty except for a Bible. None of the others held anything. He then crossed to the simple desk, where a computer and phone sat in full display. There was also a set of keys, which he guessed was for Jack Crow’s truck.

“Here we go.” Brogan opened the laptop.

Hayden rubbed the back of his neck and studied the stickers on the outside of the computer. “Hiking, a Hello Kitty sticker, a triathlon logo, and a literacy emblem. Athletic, quirky, and smart.”

Brogan booted up the computer. A screen saver appeared featuring Macy standing atop a peak in a lush green mountain range that reminded Hayden of the Appalachian Trail. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, her sunglasses were on top of her head, and she wore a blue puffer jacket. Straight white teeth flashed, and she had her hands in the air as if she’d crossed a finish line. He would have sworn on a stack of Bibles it was Faith.

“She worked for the FBI,” Brogan said. “And yet she doesn’t have a pass code on her computer.”

“She wanted us to see this. One more precaution, just in case.”

Hayden picked up the keys and walked to the window. Pushing back the curtains, he scanned the lot until he spotted several dark trucks. He began

clicking the unlock button on the chain. The lights on the truck parked closest to the hotel winked.

Brogan picked up the phone. “Looks like a burner, like the one Ledbetter said Crow bought.”

“Ledbetter said Crow bought two phones.”

“The phone found on Macy was her own personal phone. There is only one burner that I see.”

“Any activity on the phone?”

“No call, text, or email history,” Brogan said. “But there are three addresses in the Maps application.”

“Where are they?”

“The first is out in the Texas Hill Country, the second is in East Austin near where she was hit, and the third is for the Travis County Medical Examiner’s Office.”

“Jack Crow left Faith’s work address for Macy?”

“Looks like it.”

“That explains Macy’s search for Faith. She had to have been floored.”

Macy had been to Crow’s trailer, but then she’d driven deeper west into the Hill Country, doubled back to this hotel, and finally gone to East Austin.

“She had a call in to me on her personal phone,” Hayden said. “Because she found something out there in the country.”

Brogan opened Macy’s email account on the computer and scanned the received emails and then the sent folder. “You’re going to love this. She sent an email message to Faith McIntyre. She scheduled it to arrive today at five.”

“Put a call in to Savage. Have her people process this room and the truck completely. And tell them it’s a priority.”