The Lost Girls (Lucy Kincaid #11)

The difference was that Lucy couldn’t have children—she’d had an emergency hysterectomy when she was eighteen. Growing up, the idea of having children was a given—not something she actively thought about, but one of those Down the road I’ll get married and have kids things. But when she realized that she could never have her own child, it felt like she’d lost something. How can you grieve for something you never had, never could have?

“Mari and Ana have a little brother. He’ll never know his parents; he was a toddler when they died in the mudslide. All he has is his sisters and his grandmother, but she’s much older. It’s a hard life in the valley, but it’s beautiful. A paradise, until the mudslide. They can rebuild, but it’ll take time and people and money. Many have left for other homes. Mari and Ana were their hope, and when they disappeared, some lost hope. I have to find them, for the village, for their family, for a way of life. For that little baby in there. Elizabeth. I just have to.”

Lucy understood the need to solve crimes. Most of the crimes she solved were homicides. Justice for victims who couldn’t speak for themselves because they were dead. There were other victims, though. The victims of sex trafficking. Their families. The lives of those the evil of human slavery touched.

The baby sleeping in the bassinet.

“Noah and I are here,” Lucy said. “I don’t give up easily.”

“When I lost track of them after they disappeared in Monterrey, I almost gave up. In fact, for months I put them out of my head because I would have gone crazy. I exhausted every lead. Kane helped for a while—he doesn’t give up easily, either. But there were no leads.”

“Kane’s a good man.”

“Yeah. Though Kane will do everything in his power to make you think he’s not.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. She wasn’t someone who noticed interpersonal relationship issues until they hit her over the head or someone more astute, like Sean, spelled out a situation. The realization that Siobhan had feelings for Kane maybe wasn’t of the hit-on-the-head magnitude, but strong enough that Lucy recognized the tone.

“That’s Kane,” she said lightly.

“Absolutely impossible,” Siobhan muttered. “Thickheaded, stubborn, arrogant mule.” Then she said something in Gaelic. Lucy knew several languages, but Gaelic wasn’t one she’d picked up. She only recognized the cadence.

“There’s Dr. Davidson,” Siobhan suddenly said and strode off down the hall.

Lucy sent Noah a quick text message that the doctor was available, then followed Siobhan. She wondered where he’d gone off to in the first place, but running the Violent Crimes Squad was time-consuming. Juan had rarely left the office to investigate, though he often supervised major operations. Noah was definitely more hands-on. And if Lucy was going to be honest with herself, she much preferred working with him than with anyone else. There was a comfort and confidence working with a partner who not only knew you, but whom you trusted explicitly.

Perhaps that wasn’t fair. Lucy hadn’t really had the time to get to know the other agents. Nate Dunning had become friends with Sean, and she liked him fine, but since they were both rookies, they couldn’t partner up. Ryan Quiroz used to be a cop and he reminded Lucy of her brother Connor—a bit hotheaded, but rock-solid. But the other agents she’d only worked with on the periphery, and she had the distinct sense that no one particularly wanted to partner with her. The sad thing was she’d thought she’d been making friends before the shit hit the fan in June.

Siobhan introduced Lucy to the doctor. “Any news?”

Dr. Davidson said, “Elizabeth is healthy. She was small, but all organs are functioning properly. She weighed in this morning at five pounds, six ounces.

“I also got her blood work back, and she’s healthy in every test we run. Her mother must have eaten well and likely took prenatal vitamins. The only thing I’m a bit concerned about is a slight wheeze, though her lungs seem clear. We’re watching it, in case it’s an allergy or develops into a bronchial infection, but all the tests are normal.”

“That’s great news,” Siobhan said.

“CPS wants to know when they can place her into foster care. There are several homes approved for newborns.”

“No,” Siobhan said emphatically. “Laurel, I told you, I know her mother. The FBI is here, we’re going to find her.”

“Be that as it may,” the doctor said, “I can’t keep her here indefinitely. Maybe twenty-four hours longer.”

Noah approached them. “Doctor, I’m FBI Supervisory Special Agent Noah Armstrong. Before you release the child, please call me—my boss is working on putting the child into protective custody.”

“Really?” Siobhan said, eyes wide and optimistic. “You can do that?”

Noah glanced at her with a frown. “Doctor, may I speak with you privately?”

They walked down the hall. Siobhan turned to Lucy. “That was really rude.”

“Trust him,” Lucy said. “He has the infant’s best interest at heart. Let’s look at her again.”