Gone (Deadly Secrets #2)(81)

“Hey,” Hunt said, answering on the second ring. “I was just about to call you.”

Her feet stopped near the couch, and the fear she’d been fighting all night welled inside her like a geyser. Was he with Alec? “You were?”

“I found some information about that dead social worker and a charity he was involved with. I tried to call Alec, but he’s not answering.”

Her eyes slid closed, and she breathed slowly, but it did nothing to alleviate the pressure in her chest. “He’s not answering my calls either.”

“Alec’s not with you?”

“Not since last night.” Raegan’s hand grew damp against the receiver, and she didn’t want to say the words but knew she had to. “The FBI found a child’s body in a shallow grave in the mountains off Highway 26 last night.”

“Oh shit.”

It was shit. Everything about this was shit, and it was eerily similar to the shit of three years ago, but she wasn’t going to focus on that. She was going to focus on the here and now and what she could do to prove that wasn’t her daughter. “Tell me what you found on the charity.”

“Raegan—”

“Tell me about the charity, Hunt.” Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. Turning into her kitchen, she stopped in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window and blinked several times, letting the warmth give her strength.

Hunt sighed, and she heard the worry in the sound but refused to give in. “It wasn’t easy to find, but I’ve got a name. The Children Are Our Future charity is managed by a corporation. BLK Conglomerates. It’s an import/export business. They move products all over the world. They have offices in LA, New York, London, and Shanghai. The CEO is Arnold Kasdan.”

The name was vaguely familiar. “Does he live in Portland?”

“No. Primary residence is in New York. But he’s from Portland.”

“He grew up here?”

“Yeah. Forty-two years old. Father’s deceased—he’s the one who started BLK Conglomerates fifty-some years ago. Only child, unmarried. His mother still lives in Portland.”

“What’s her name?”

“Miriam Kasdan.”

The name rolled around in Raegan’s head. She’d heard it before. Knew she’d heard it recently. A spark flared when she remembered where. “I saw her the other day at the news station. They were interviewing her for a segment about the arts. She’s a huge supporter of fine arts in the community.”

“Yeah. That’s what I found too. She’s on the board of directors for both the children’s museum and the Portland Ballet Company.”

“Is she involved with Children Are Our Future?”

“No. BLK Conglomerates manages their funds, but I haven’t found anything linking her to CAOF. Except for a photograph of her son, Arnold Kasdan, standing with Conner Murray in front of the children’s museum she supports with a bunch of kids from CAOF. It could be nothing, but it looks like Arnold Kasdan definitely knew Murray, even if only briefly to tour the museum.”

It wasn’t a direct link, but it was something worth looking into. “I’ll call her later today and try to set up an interview. Maybe I can find out if her son is more directly involved with CAOF and how well he knew Murray.”

“Okay. I had a thought this morning about Gilbert.”

“What kind of thought?”

“Well, after Alec called yesterday afternoon and told me about your meeting with Charlene, I started thinking . . . If Gilbert was working for someone, there has to be a record of that, right? Bank accounts, deposits, that kind of thing.”

“Yes, but he hasn’t been out of jail that long. Do you think he’d take time to set up accounts? He’s on the run. He’d want cash.”

“True, but when Alec was a kid, he wasn’t. If what Charlene said is true, Gilbert was working for these people back then. I think it’s worth checking into.”

“It is, I agree.” And she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that herself. Of course, yesterday you were dealing with the fallout from that meeting with Charlie and learning Alec was an abducted kid himself, then Gilbert’s phone call and the bag he left on your deck, and finally the remains found in those woods. Was it any wonder she hadn’t thought of it? There hadn’t been much time to think about anything besides fear.

She stiffened her spine, determined not to give in to that fear.

“I’ll keep looking into Gilbert’s funds and let you know if I find anything,” Hunt said, drawing her back to the conversation. “There wasn’t a lot left of Murray’s car after he went over that embankment. His death is being attributed to alcohol. My contact at PPD said they did find an odd blue paint on his bumper that didn’t match his paint job, leading them to think maybe there was another car on the road behind him when he went over, but they haven’t been able to find any witnesses.”

“You mean they think he was rammed from behind?”

“That was their initial thought, but they couldn’t find any other evidence supporting that theory. Several cars have gone off the road at that spot. It’s possible his vehicle scraped a rock or something that was already streaked with paint from an earlier accident.”

Possible but highly unlikely as far as Raegan was concerned.