Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(7)

Taylor motioned for her to proceed.

With his arm still around her, Brent accompanied Rowan to Heather’s room where he’d searched for Alexa earlier. He’d noticed that the room only contained Heather’s belongings. Guess Heather and Jay didn’t share a room. Lent credence to Rowan’s belief there was trouble in the marriage. Unless the room contained Heather’s overflow of belongings that wouldn’t fit in the master suite. He was more inclined to believe this is where Heather slept. The room was stamped with her personality, not bland like a storage room.

Rowan headed straight for the bookshelf where colorful paperbacks weighed down the shelves along with many framed pictures of an adorable black-haired girl with beautiful brown eyes.

Alexa Maxwell took his breath away. His lips curved. She took after her aunt. Rowan did the same thing to him. Yep, he was a sap, all right. But a man would have to have a heart of stone not to be mush inside at the sight of this little one.

Rowan reached for a picture of Alexa in a white dress with a yellow hat perched on her head. The girl’s eyes appeared to sparkle with happiness. Might just be a trick of the photographer’s lighting. Brent hoped that wasn’t the case. “This is the latest picture. Will this work?”

“Oh, yeah.” Taylor took the picture from the frame. “I’ll make sure the picture is returned. I need to make copies. Do you know what outfit Alexa was wearing today?”

“Maybe. One thing I’ll say about her father. The man doesn’t mind spending money on his daughter. That girl has more clothes than Heather and I do put together.” Rowan bit her lower lip. “I’ll have to go back into Alexa’s room.”

Brent wanted to protest, knew that he couldn’t if Rowan’s discomfort would give him and Taylor another lead to find Alexa. No way was he leaving the investigation up to Metro’s finest. They were overworked and understaffed, and their equipment didn’t hold a candle to what he used at Fortress.

The detective held out a pair of rubber gloves. “Put these on in case the person who took Alexa left prints.”

Rowan did as directed and retraced her steps to Alexa’s room. She headed to the dresser and began riffling through the contents of the drawers. Next, she avoided the pool of blood on the way to the closet.

The closet was as large as the one in his bedroom, Brent mused. Hardly necessary for a six-year-old. No doubt she would need that much space and more when she was a teenager.

A minute later, she returned. “Alexa is wearing pink overalls and a white shirt with pink trim and white tennis shoes.”

Brent stared. “She has more clothes than a department store in this room. How do you know what she’s wearing?”

“I gave her the outfit. It’s her favorite and it’s missing from the closet. And before you ask, I also checked the clothes hamper. The outfit isn’t here.”

Simmons returned, a grim look on his face. “I can’t find the girl, Detective. There’s no sign of her.”

“Thanks. Go help Blanchard with crowd control.” Taylor turned back to Rowan. “I need contact information for Jay Maxwell.” When she provided the information, the detective used his cell phone to call Maxwell. “No answer. Does he usually ignore phone calls?”

“I have no idea.” Rowan shuddered. “I don’t contact him for anything.”

Anger simmered inside Brent. He was definitely going to have a talk with this guy. No woman should be afraid.

“Will Fortress help?” Taylor asked Brent.

“Count on it. What do you need?”

“Have one of the tech geeks ping Maxwell’s phone. Let’s see where this guy is. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find Alexa with him.”

Brent released Rowan and grabbed his phone. He called the direct number for the comm center, placing the call on speaker phone, and was relieved to find Zane was still on duty.

“Murphy.”

“Z, I need you to ping a cell phone.”

Over the phone’s speaker, he heard the tapping of computer keys. “What’s going on, boss?”

“Possible child kidnapping.”

“Name of the vic?”

“Alexa Maxwell. She’s six. Black hair, brown eyes, looks like the poster child for cherubs.”

“Clothes?”

He described Alexa’s coordinated pink outfit.

“Where are you and what number am I pinging?” Once Brent supplied the information, Zane said, “Are we on the case alone or has the FBI been called in?”

Brent scowled at the thought of the alphabet agencies. “Right now, Taylor is working the case. Guess he’ll have to call in the feds soon.”

Taylor winced, then gave a short nod. “After we locate and question Maxwell. Don’t want to call in the feds on a domestic unless he’s kidnapped his own child. Hurry, Zane. Alexa is not in the house. I want a location on the father before I call in the feds.”

“Hold.” More keys clicking. “The signal shows the phone at your location, Taylor.”

“Can you pinpoint where?”

“Nope. System’s not that good.”

Brent considered his options. “Is the satellite in the right position to do an infrared scan?”

A pause, then, “We’re in luck. What am I looking for?”