Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(9)

Rising again, Mira walked over to admire the sketch of Eve, in full kick-ass mode.

“Yeah, it’s good. Ah, Nixie Swisher did it for a school project or assignment. Something.”

Little Nixie, who’d survived, by chance, luck, fate, the brutal and bloody home invasion that had killed her entire family.

“It’s wonderful. I didn’t realize she was so talented.”

“I think she got an assist from Richard.”

“Regardless, it’s excellent, and captures you. She’d be so pleased you put it in here.”

“I told her I would on Thanksgiving, when she gave it to me. Anyway, it reminds me. Even when the worst happens, when you think you can’t take another step you can. You can survive.”

“I only saw her briefly when Richard and Elizabeth brought the children to New York, but I could see she’s done more than survive. She’s begun to thrive.”

She turned away, glanced at the board again. “They never will.”

“No. The preliminary indicates the victims cross ethnic lines,which means it’s unlikely they shared coloring or facial resemblance. That leaves age and possibly body type as physical links. My first instinct,” Eve continued as Mira sat again, “at this point, is the ages of the victims were more important to their killer.”

“Young, probably not fully developed physically or sexually.”

“And small in stature, which would indicate even those who may hit the top of the age scale may have, and likely did, appear younger. Again, on the preliminary, there was no sign of violence immediately before death. Any sign of it was well before death, and healed.”

“Yes, I saw in the preliminary prior abuse suspected on several of the victims. Young girls already used to violence,” Mira said, “don’t trust easily. Given the nature of the building during the most probable time frame, they, or some of them, might have been runaways.”

“I’ve started a search using Missing Persons reports. It’s—” Eve glanced over when her computer signaled. “That should be it. Computer, number of results.”

Three hundred seventy-four unresolved reports on subjects fitting the criteria.

“So many,” Mira said, but from her expression, the number didn’t surprise her any more than it did Eve.

“Some of those are kids who poofed—of their own accord. Slid through the cracks, got themselves new ID.”

“Some,” Mira agreed, “but not most.”

“No, not most. It’s possible we’ll find our vics among these. Certainly we should find some of them. Then again, not every parent or guardian bothers to file a report when a kid goes missing. Plenty are just fine with it if a kid takes off.”

“You didn’t run.”

“No.” There were few Eve felt comfortable speaking to about her past. Mira was one. “Not from Troy.” Not from the father who’d beaten her, raped her, tormented her. “It never occurred to me I could. Maybe if I’d had exposure to other kids, to the outside, it would have.”

“They kept you confined, separated, Richard Troy, Stella, so the confinement, the abuse, all of it was your normal. How could you know, especially at eight, it was anything but?”

“Are you worried about me, with them?” Eve gestured to the board.

“Only a little. It’s always harder when it’s children, for anyone who works with death. It will be harder on you considering they’re young girls—a few years older than you were, and some of them abused, most likely by parents or guardians. Then someone ended their lives. Perhaps more than one person.”

“It’s a consideration.”

“You escaped and survived, they didn’t. So yes, it’ll be hard on you. But I can’t think of anyone more suited to stand for them. With only gender and approximate age, it’s not possible to give you a solid profile. The fact that there was no clothing found may indicate sexual assault, or an attempt to humiliate, or trophies. Any number of reasons. Cause of death will help, as could the victims’ histories once identified. Anything you’re able to give me will help.”

Mira paused a moment. “He had skills, and he planned. He had to access both the building and the material, and find the girls. That takes planning. These weren’t impulse kills, even if the first might have been. The remains show no physical signs of torture or violence, though there may have been emotional torture. None of them were hidden alone?”

“No.”

“Not alone, but in pairs or small groups. It might be he didn’t want them to be alone. He wrapped them, a kind of shroud. And built them a kind of crypt. It shows respect.”

“Twisted.”

“Oh yes, but a respect for them. Runaways, abused girls, buried—in his way—in a building with a history of offering shelter to orphans. That’s an interesting connection.”

Mira rose. “I’ll let you get back to work.” She glanced back to the board again. “They’ve waited a long time to be found, to have some hope of justice.”

“There might be others. Did the killer stop with these twelve, or even begin with them? Why stop? We’ll look at known predators who were killed, died, or incarcerated around the time of the last victim—once we have that. But, too many aren’t known. Still, we’ll look for like crimes, known predators. A lot of times girls this age run in packs, right?”