“Then we’re really in deep shit,” Max said. “Okay, so it’s something to think about. When we get back, I’ll run it past Thacker. See if it’s worth doing the lab testing.”
“Thank you,” Afton said. She looked out the window as a stand of birch trees flew by. “Is Darden a hunter?”
“Not that I’m aware of. This is a guy who even gets manicures. I don’t know too many guys with manicured nails who spend their weekend in a deer blind hugging a rifle and freezing their ass off.” Max tapped the brakes and slid into the right lane, the slower lane. “Animal hairs. Shit.”
“A zookeeper? A trapper?” Afton wondered.
“Hard to sift out the possible suspects from the regular Joes.”
“What would you do normally?” Afton asked.
“Probably look for sex offenders, felons in the area.”
“Should we do that?”
“Sheriff Burney is already doing that in his jurisdiction,” Max said. “And we can try it, too, up to a point. There’s protocol to follow and we can’t investigate everybody. We don’t have the manpower.”
“What do we do in the meantime?” Afton asked.
“Keep working the case and wait for the kidnapper to call back,” Max said.
“When do you think that will be?”
“Not sure. My experience tells me it’s got to be fairly soon. Criminals usually like to grab their money and run.”
“I wish I could be there,” Afton said.
“You mean, to facilitate the exchange with the kidnapper?”
“No, to put a bullet in his brain.”
*
WE’RE still missing something,” Max said.
“What?” Afton asked. It was late afternoon Thursday and they were sifting through a pile of reports that had been slowly filtering in on missing children. “We’re getting decent cooperation from—”
“No, I mean like a thread . . . a connection.”
“Like the animal hair thing?”
“No,” Max said. “I mean like a personal connection.”
“Okay.” Max was worrying something, tossing it around in his brain, and Afton decided the best thing to do, the smart thing to do, was let him chew at it until he came up with something.
“We need to go over to Synthotech.”
“Darden’s current employer,” Afton said. “But the FBI guys already did all that.” She shuffled some more papers. “I have their reports right here. First on their list was Gordon Conseco, the CEO of Snythotech.”
“Was he standing firmly behind his new hire?”
Afton scanned the report. “Mmn, not so much. Conseco seemed more concerned with doing a slick PR job for Synthotech. Decrying any involvement with the kidnapping and offering law enforcement complete access to all their employees.”
“So Don Jasper and his guys talked to everyone over there?”
“They conducted interviews with at least a dozen people,” Afton said. “And there just wasn’t much take-away.”
“For them. But maybe there would be for us.”
“Because you think we’re smarter?” Afton knew that wasn’t the case. Don Jasper and his band of merry men were scary smart. If they couldn’t pry anything loose at Synthotech, how could she and Max?
“The babysitter . . .” Max said.
“Ashley Copeland,” Afton said.
“Her mother works there. That was Ashley’s connection with Darden in the first place. Who talked to Mom?”
Afton looked through the papers. “She was interviewed by Keith Sunder.”
“Our friendly local FBI guy.”
“Yup.”
“Maybe we should give it a shot, too.”
Afton picked up a stack of papers and tamped them together. “Why not?”
*
MONICA Copeland wasn’t enthusiastic about talking to them. In fact, she was just putting on her coat when Afton and Max arrived. She was one of two administrative assistants recently assigned to Richard Darden and claimed not to know him all that well.
“But you work with him,” Max said.
“I started at Synthotech about the same time he did,” Monica said. “So I’m fairly new. Sasha, the other admin assistant, is the one who works most closely with him.”
“Did she train him in?” Afton asked. It was one of the dirty little secrets in corporate America. Secretaries often trained in their bosses; bank tellers often trained in loan officers and banking vice presidents.
“Well, I suppose Sasha showed him the ropes anyway,” Monica said.
“And your daughter babysat for him,” Max said.
“Yes. Unfortunately. Just that one time.”
“Which is what we’d like to talk to you about,” Max said. “Even though you’ve been over this before with the FBI.”
Monica looked like she was ready to cry. “My poor Ashley. She was viciously attacked and tied up while that little baby was stolen. Then someone came after her again in the hospital?” Now tears streamed down Monica’s cheeks. “It’s like the bad things just won’t stop happening. I feel like Ashley’s completely lost her innocence.”
Afton remembered the spoiled, petulant Ashley, who had demanded a boob job from her mother. Really not that innocent at all.
“Ashley was released from the hospital . . . when?” Max asked. “Yesterday?”