Special Agent Blake took the lead. “Sir, this is Detective Darren Fletcher, and Detective Lonnie Hart, both with D.C. Metro. They’re going to be helping with the investigation. I’m sorry to say we don’t have anything new. The tip line should be out now, and I know you want to get the reward under way. Like I mentioned, we don’t want to go with that just yet. Let’s give it a day and see where we are.”
Stevens was wild-eyed, a man trying very hard not to tip over the edge. “Give it a day. A day? What you’re really saying is you think she’s gone. You think my little girl is gone.” He got up and started to pace. “What are you doing to find her? Why are you all here, in the house? Why aren’t you out on the street, looking? I need to get out there. I need to go look for her. I can’t wait around here anymore.”
He started out of the room and Jordan captured his arm. “Sir, Mr. Stevens, I know this is difficult. You’re doing great. We are doing everything possible to find your little girl. Please, don’t give up hope. The more we look into this, the more it looks like a professional kidnapping, not just a random event.”
He stopped cold. “Why do you say that? What in the world makes you think a pro took Rachel?”
“Both the cleanness of the snatch and the nature of your work, sir, and your wife’s. You’re both cleared for Top Secret classified materials. Your wife’s position at the State Department is quite sensitive. The kidnapper managed to disappear Rachel in the middle of a busy city street with no one the wiser. It’s not like she wandered off the beaten path, and vanished. She was taken. There one minute, gone the next, as your nanny stated. It’s risky to take a child in the middle of a crowd like that, so whoever did it knew what they were doing. They’d most likely been following the family’s routines for days, getting a sense of how things work.”
The cords in Stevens’s neck stood out; he was about to completely blow. “So you’re saying there are professional kidnappers out there, roaming the streets, just waiting for us to turn away so they can snatch our kids? I don’t buy that for a second.”
Fletcher’s phone rang, buzzing discreetly in his pocket, and he stood, moved away from the fight about to break out between the Feebs and the dad. He felt terrible for Stevens, totally got it. What parents would want to stand back and wait when their kid was missing? At least he didn’t get the sense Stevens was involved. His outraged demeanor, his fear and upset, was genuine.
Fletcher answered quietly when he noticed the number was Nocek’s personal line. “What’s up, Doc?”
“Detective, we have had a most unusual discovery in the samples Dr. Owens sent from Lynchburg. A DNA match in the missing persons database.”
Fletcher’s heart gave a double thump. Awesome. A hit, right off the bat. And fast, too. That meant it was a high-profile case, just waiting in the system for a match. “A match to whom? Are we looking at our killer?”
“It is possible, but I am not certain,” Nocek said. “The match is to a missing child from seventeen years ago. Do you remember the case of a young girl named Kaylie Rousch?”
“Kaylie Rousch? Kaylie Rousch.” But as he said the name, it clicked. “Wait a minute. I do remember the case. She’s the one who got off the bus after school and flat-out disappeared. No sign of her, nothing. No suspects, no sightings, no ransom demands. It was on the news for weeks. Man, I had just joined the force. I was still in training. And then they found her body a year later, just the skeleton. So there must be some mistake. Kaylie Rousch is dead.”
“I do not believe we have made a mistake. The child, she’s a woman now, is very much alive. I have taken the liberty of sending the file I have, meager though it is, to your email account. I would suggest you speak to the FBI agents who are working on the Stevens girl case. They may be able to flesh out more information.”
“Son of a bitch. Where was the DNA collected from?”
“According to Dr. Owens’s evidence log, it was collected from the victim’s neck and ear. The composition of the sample is from a tear duct. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say Kaylie Rousch was leaning over the victim, crying.”
Fletch was trying to wrap his head around the information. “Okay, you’ve got the DNA, and it’s a match to the Rousch cold case. Let me get this straight. You are one hundred percent convinced this is fresh DNA, as in the girl was there at the scene in Lynchburg?”
“This is exactly what I am saying.”
Fletcher took that in, tuned back in to the conversation with Stevens. They were getting nowhere, but he watched Thurber with a fresh eye. There was little doubt in his mind the FBI agent would be familiar with the Rousch case, and if he was, there was also a good chance he was the same Rob Thurber who was mentioned in Timothy Savage’s will. What were the odds? And was it possible the two cases—three now—were connected?
“This is interesting news, Doc. Just one question. If Kaylie Rousch is alive, whose body did they find and bury?”
Chapter
26