Hide (Detective Harriet Foster #1)(100)

Foster tacked the photos on the board. “Six women missing from the time the Morgans moved into their house in Naperville till the time Tom sold it and the kids went off to college. Notice anything?” She turned back to the team, at the cops seated or leaning on desks, weary eyes on the crowded board.

“Just the obvious,” Lonergan said. “They all look kinda like Birch.”

“Uh-oh.” It was Kelley right before he reached for a bottle of antacids on his desk. “I’m not going to like this.”

Foster pointed to the last photo up. “The last one we could find was fourteen years ago. Susan Rafferty. Twenty-two. Went missing from the Sloppy Cup Café in Naperville on a Sunday afternoon.”

“And you can connect Tom Morgan to her?” Symansky asked.

“Not yet,” Li said.

Bigelow raised his hand. “If it’s Tom, what’s he been doing since he ran out of Naperville?”

“Better question is, Where’s he been doing it?” Foster said. “We’ve got pings out all over the surrounding states. Killers don’t stop killing. We know that, so chances are good we’re going to come up with more photos to put on that board.”

“But now he’s back here. Why?” Lonergan took off his blazer and rolled his sleeves up.

“I think he came back for Amelia,” Foster said. Her statement quieted the room. “I think Tom Morgan’s a killer and he raised her to be one too. Look at her painting, her attack on Silva. Nobody in the press knew about those lipstick rings. I didn’t see any of them report on a pink backpack. I think Tom killed Wicks for the reason we thought. She took a photo of something she wasn’t supposed to. Him. I believe that’s true because I don’t see any cameras painted up there, and Amelia didn’t paint Wicks’s face.”

“A family of killers,” Symansky groaned. “Damn it all to hell and back.”

“We suspect we have at least two more victims because of the faces we can’t put names to,” Foster said. “That first spot of blood found on Ainsley has to belong to one of them. Either we find Tom Morgan and Amelia and they tell us where these women are, or we have to hope we find them ourselves or someone stumbles on another tarp.” She scanned the team, each face. “We stop them.”





CHAPTER 73


Bodie walked out of his building and turned sharply toward the lake. He needed to walk. He needed the quiet. He craved the darkness. He knew there were cops in a car watching from across the street. They’d been there off and on for days. Surveillance. Like he was too stupid to know. He’d heard about Silva, but he hadn’t been able to work up a lot of sympathy. He knew it was his father’s doing. And where was Am? He’d been calling her since the police had let him go, but she hadn’t answered his calls or called him back. Was she with him? Had she always been?

Why couldn’t he turn his father in? What prevented him from simply walking into the police station and telling Foster and Li and the others that his father killed women? He didn’t know. That wasn’t quite right. He did know. He had been taught to lie and cover, to repress and ignore, to normalize that which was abnormal.

He liked the sound of his footsteps on the path and also knowing that his were the only footfalls he could expect, but this night, when he turned toward the sound of lapping waves and walked a block, there was the sound of footsteps behind him. Am. He reeled, but it wasn’t her; it was Detective Foster.

“What do you want?” It was harassment. The cops had no right to hound him this way.

Foster stood there, six feet away at best. “I’m looking for your sister. I thought maybe you’d know where she is.”

That threw him. He thought it was him they were trying to break down; otherwise, what was the surveillance for? He scanned the park, looking for the other one, Li, but Foster appeared to be alone. “My sister? Why?”

Foster glanced around. “You always walk this late at night? Not the safest thing to do.”

“I’ve got half the police department watching me,” Bodie said. “Answer the question.”

Foster let the distance between them stand. “Dr. Silva ID’d your sister as her attacker. And when she’s strong enough to add more, if she ever is, we’ll arrest Amelia. And also, because we think she can lead us to Tom Morgan.”

Bodie pedaled back, just a couple of steps, just enough to put more air between them. The mention of his father’s name elevated his unease. The police knew he was alive and back in the city. They knew that Amelia and Bodie were connected to him. Did they also know the worst of it? He opened his mouth to deny everything, but Foster stopped him with a warning look.

She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. “We spoke to her earlier today. She came in with a lawyer to get you out, but you’d already gone. You haven’t spoken to her since then, I take it?”

Bodie shook his head, still startled by the intrusion, not sure what to make of it. He stared down at the envelope in his hand. “What’s this?”

Foster backed up. “Read it. Amelia likely ran to him, to confront him about everything. She seemed pretty upset. What’s in there isn’t anything you couldn’t have found on your own, if you’d known to look for it, and it answers a few questions you might have had. We gave your sister the same information. My card’s in there, too, in case you decide to get in touch.”