Little Girl Gone (An Afton Tangler Thriller #1)(55)

Bagin stared at her. “By that you mean . . .”

“Did she take the baby out for walks? Did she notice anyone giving them an unusual amount of attention? Was there a creepy neighbor or a UPS guy who got a little too chummy?”

Don Jasper smiled at her. “You’ve got kids.”

“Two kids, yeah,” Afton said.

“Sounds like you should have been along today,” Jasper said.

“I’d be happy to take another run at Hudson if you want me to,” Afton said. She’d pin Jilly Hudson’s ears to the wall if it meant helping to find that baby.

Thacker held up a hand to interrupt. “No, no, we still have a number of other people to interview. And Farmer has to brief us on Binger.”

“Binger . . .” Jasper said.

“He’s the guy Darden fired over at Novamed,” Thacker said. He nodded at Farmer. “Okay, you’re on.”

Farmer droned on about Bob Binger while Afton thought about Richard Darden and Al Sponger. She was fairly confident that neither of them had anything to do with the kidnapping, yet she knew they would continue to be scrutinized. No, there was someone else out there who had that poor baby in their clutches. Was it the man who’d attacked her at the hospital last night? Who, she assumed, had really come to attack Ashley Copeland? Or was it the woman from the doll show? Those were the two people who plucked at the strings in her mind. But how . . . how in hell were they going to find them?

When the meeting finally broke up, they’d worked out a sort of strategy. The FBI would continue to pursue the people on the list that Susan and Richard Darden had given them this past Sunday, as well as reinterview the babysitter, Ashley Copeland, and her mother, Monica Copeland, who worked as an administrative assistant to Darden. Max would keep an eye on Sponger and swing back to Novamed to see what he could find out about Darden’s harassment case.

“That could be something,” Thacker said.

“What do we know about this woman?” Afton asked.

“She lives in Woodbury and she has a teenage son,” Thacker said.

Teenage son, Afton thought. Interesting.

If there was time and it seemed warranted, Thacker also wanted Max to make a second run at Binger. Afton, who’d seemingly reestablished good rapport with Susan Darden, would stay on as Max’s assistant. For now anyway.

Thacker seemed generally displeased with how little they’d all come up with, and seemed stretched thin with honchoing several other investigations.

“How’s that pharmaceutical thing coming?” Max asked him as they walked out of the room.

Thacker shook his head and blew out a glut of air. “Morelli’s either working his ass off, or he’s already solved the case and is kicking back on twenty milligrams of black market Valium.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Max said.


*

SUNSET during a Minnesota winter comes early. So with just a thin red line banding the horizon, Afton pulled into her garage. She was tired from what had been a long day, but she was revved up, too. How often did a girl get to chase down an actual perp? Or sit in a brainstorming session with honest-to-goodness FBI agents? For her it had been never. Until today, that is.

Yes, she was sore from her chase with Sponger. Yes, her head was swimming from taking notes and asking questions. But a couple more Tylenol tablets and a hot cup of chamomile tea would help ease her aches and pains. And dinner with Poppy and Tess would clear her head and take care of everything else. After all, this was their burger and beans night.

Poppy and Tess were sprawled at the kitchen table doing their homework when Afton stepped through the back door. Then pens, tablets, and backpacks went flying as the girls threw themselves at her. And once Afton had administered a copious amount of hugs, kisses, and grins, she laughed to see that Bonaparte was crowding in, too. The little dog was prancing and dancing and not a bit shy.

How fast the little guy had fit into their family, Afton decided. How easy it was for dogs, how difficult it was for so many people.

“Where’s Aunt Alisha?” Afton asked.

“Upstairs,” Tess said. “Talking on her phone.”

“Talking to a man,” Poppy said, tugging at her sister’s ponytail. “I hope she doesn’t get any ideas in her head and run off and leave us.” She sighed. “Then we’d just be latchkey kids. Coming home to an empty house.”

“Poppy, sweetheart, wherever did you get that idea?” Afton asked.

Poppy shrugged. “That’s what happens.”

“That’s not what’s going to happen to us,” Afton said. “We’re a family. We’re always going to be here for each other.”

Poppy still looked nervous. “Still, sometimes little girls have to go away.”

“Honey, are you still worried about that baby that was kidnapped?”

Poppy nodded.

“That could never happen to anybody here. You know why?”

Both Poppy and Tess were looking very serious now. “Why?” Poppy asked.

Afton put her arms around them both and hugged them tight. “Two reasons. First, because we now have a ferocious guard dog who can dance on his hind legs.” That comment made the two girls giggle like mad.

“What’s the second reason, Mommy?” Tess asked.

“Your mommy knows some very tough police officers and FBI agents,” Afton said.