Stolen Daughters (Detective Amanda Steele)

Amanda had hardly slept last night after finding that note at the grave. It had to be from Doe’s killer—or did it? She teetered back and forth on the matter. But it was the wording that chilled her. “The same team… happy your angel will always stay innocent.”

What team? Did it refer to values and beliefs? Somethi

ng more? If it was the killer, did that mean he saw himself on the same side as law enforcement? And, really, the only possible thread connecting Amanda and the killer would be sex trafficking. But he had killed a victim of sex trafficking, while she had rescued them. The last tidbit wedged in her mind. She’d rescued them…

Had the killer seen the articles earlier this year about the girls she’d found? If so, that would indicate he was a local. Another shiver ripped through her.

But what had truly prompted the note? Was there an enclosed threat—that he could get to her whenever he wanted? He had, after all, violated her daughter’s resting place. Or was he simply delusional, really believing that she was an equal with a man who had strangled a young woman and intended to burn her body to ash?

She tapped the steering wheel of her Honda Civic. She was sitting in the parking lot of the Department of Forensic Science in Manassas waiting for the place to open at eight. Only a couple more minutes to go.

Her plan was to turn over the note to investigators and rush back to Woodbridge for the appointment at the bank. Hopefully, Forensics would get somewhere with fingerprints or touch DNA.

The clock told her it was time, and she got out of the car and entered the building. She was going to request CSI Isabelle Donnelly, whom she rather liked, but another CSI she knew was to the left of the counter. Amanda smiled and lifted her index finger to the receptionist and took one step toward CSI Emma Blair just as she withdrew from an embrace with her son—the fireman, Spencer Blair.

Amanda’s instinct was to glance away—even walk away—like she’d interrupted an intimate moment between the two of them simply by being there. Instead, she signaled to the CSI that she was coming over, but Amanda’s legs felt weighed down as she started to walk. Both Blairs were leveling glares and scowls at her. She was tempted to just conclude the family was miserable, but she’d seen them be nice to other people. It would seem their hostility was aimed at her. Not that she had a clue as to why.

“Hello,” Amanda said, as an inclusive greeting for the two of them.

“Detective Steele,” Emma said coolly. “What can I do for you?” Given the way she’d delivered the question, whatever would come from Amanda’s mouth was presumed an imposition.

Spencer had yet to say anything; he just kept his gaze fixed on her.

“Detective?” Emma prompted.

“I need you to analyze something for me.” Amanda extended the note, which she had sealed in a plastic evidence bag taken from the trunk of her car. Before putting it in there, she had taken photographs with her phone just to have on her person if she ever wanted to refer back to it. Not that she imagined forgetting the message anytime soon.

Emma turned to her son. “Guess I have to get to work.”

“Have a good one, Mom.” Spencer left, but not without first firing off another glare missile in Amanda’s direction.

Emma snatched the bag. “What is it? Which case is it associated with?”

“I believe it’s related to the arson and murder at five thirty-two Bill Drive.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “You believe? I’m going to need more than that to facilitate this request, Detective.”

Amanda clenched her jaw. She should have known she could hit a wall with the request. She hadn’t even informed Malone, fearing the news would somehow result in her getting benched from the case. But of all the people to come clean to about the note first, it was Emma Blair?

“I found it at my daughter’s grave,” she said softly, just hating that whoever had left it had the nerve to go there. Same team? Utter crap. “You’ll need to eliminate my prints as I didn’t think to put gloves on before handling it. But you’ll see it was addressed—”

“To you.” Emma looked up from the envelope.

“Uh-huh. I think—and this might be a stretch—that it’s from the person who killed Jane Doe.”

“What does it say inside?”

“‘We’re on the same team. Be grateful that your angel will always stay innocent.’” Recited verbatim.

“Huh.” Emma chewed her bottom lip, met Amanda’s gaze. “I’ll see what I can find, but no promises.”

“All I ask… Except…” Amanda extended another sealed evidence bag. This one included the card taken from the memorial. She’d gone past the station and got it before heading out here. “I was also hoping you could test this for prints and DNA, see if it gets you anywhere.”

Emma looked down at the bag but made no move to take it. Amanda practically stuffed it into her hands.

“Where did this one come from?”

Amanda told her.