Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(10)

And attached to the file, she found a list of known pedophiles that included nearby Philadelphia.

She’d go through those interviews, too, but first she entered the list, then ordered a new search narrowing it to her parameters.

Females between eleven and fourteen.

She did the same for New York, restricting it—for now—to Manhattan.

Then, testing her tech skills, ordered one more for any connections between the narrowed Pennsylvania list and New York’s.

While the computer worked, she put her boots on her desk, picked up what was left of her coffee, and studied the board.

Pampered hands and feet, no signs of restraints, no outward signs of malnutrition, violence.

Morris would confirm or refute that, but for now …

What kept a thirteen-year-old girl with an abductor for months?

Someone she knew, trusted. But nothing in Driver’s report indicated anything like that, and she and her partner hadn’t missed a trick that Eve could see.

No physical restraints didn’t mean she hadn’t been locked up, or fed drugs to make her compliant. Brainwashed, threatened.

School uniform pants and a plain white shirt. The necklace. Odd, really, they’d allowed her to keep the necklace but not the earrings.

Because it sure as hell hadn’t been a standard botched mugging.

“You got outside, didn’t you, Mina? And you fought back when they caught you. Died for it. Maybe you still had those pants, or maybe they put them on you to make you look like a runaway. Left your necklace with a broken chain to make it look like a mugging or fight.”

Just another kid, Eve thought, who takes off and comes to a bad end.

“But that’s not you. Look at that face. Pretty girl with skin like white rose petals. And a body just barely past the first bud. Whoever took you kept you pretty and prime for a reason.”

When her computer announced the completion of her first search, she dropped her feet to the floor, swiveled back.

She’d find the reason.





3





Peabody came back in while Eve worked another series of cross-checks.

“McNab gave me a contact, Detective Willowby. She just transferred to Central from the four-oh-six. She’s in SVU, mostly on crimes against minors. I reached out.”

Because Peabody knew the perils of Eve’s ass-biting visitor’s chair, she perched warily on the very edge. “She’ll run Mina’s picture against any of the vids or photos they’ve got. And there are dark web chat rooms—sharing sites. They—”

“Share or trade slaves—sex or domestic.”

“You knew about that. Jesus, Willowby says some of the minors they pull out claim it’s consensual, or ordained—or whatever they’ve been indoctrinated to believe. Sometimes they start them off really young, even babies they…”

As it struck her, Peabody forgot about the chair, had her ass bitten, pushed up. “Sorry. Sorry, Dallas.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. It gives me insight. I probably had a couple more years before he put me on the market. He fucked that up by raping me, so he couldn’t market me as a virgin. They’re usually worth more. Then again, some like them broken in.”

Or just broken, she thought. She’d sure as hell qualified.

“But this wasn’t that,” Eve continued. “Probability’s high she was snatched because of her looks and her age—twelve at the time of the snatch. But why keep her so long if you’re going to put her on the market? Personal use and/or porn profit hits the highest on the scale. And when she ages out of kiddie porn and your preferences, you pass her on to the next.”

“That’s more or less what Willowby told me. She also said, when I told her about the mani-pedi and her general condition, the victim fits what they call the Princess category.”

Intrigued, Eve stopped, swiveled around. “Princess—as in treated as such?”

“Yeah. Compliance drugs probably, at least at first. But pretty clothes, makeup, some sparkles, a fun room—no windows likely, locked door for sure. Toys and stuff for younger ones.”

“The carrot instead of the stick. I never get why it isn’t candy or ice cream instead of the stick. Who really can’t wait to eat a damn carrot?”

She considered it, tossed carrots aside. “The stick comes in for lack of cooperation. A street kid—they’re likely to wallow pretty deep in all the goodies. But somebody like Mina wouldn’t be as easily turned.”

She glanced at her wrist unit. “Let’s see if Morris can tell us any more.”

Even as she started to stand, her ’link signaled. She looked at the display. “The victim’s parents. Hold on. Lieutenant Dallas.”

The man on-screen looked ghost pale, the blue of his red-rimmed eyes glassy. “Lieutenant Dallas.” His voice cracked. “I’m—”

“Mr. Cabot. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Sharlene—Detective Driver said you were absolutely sure.”

“Yes, sir. I understand how difficult this is for you and your family. I can promise you that finding out who took Mina from you is priority for me and my partner.”

“She—our Mina—was she—”

Raped, Eve finished in her head, because she understood the father couldn’t quite say the word. “Mina is with the chief medical examiner of New York. Let me assure you she couldn’t be in more skilled or compassionate hands than Dr. Morris’s. My partner and I are about to go there now.”