Detective Zach Blanchard stood in front of his captain’s desk and waited for the ass-chewing that was most certainly coming. The captain had already gnawed off one side this morning, but apparently someone had noticed Blanchard still had a little ass left and thought he could do with losing the rest.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Captain Saucier’s face was beet red. “You interrupted the mayor in the middle of a city-planning meeting to ask him to provide an alibi for his son, whose daughter is missing. It’s official, Blanchard. You’ve lost your fucking mind!”
Zach took a deep breath and started to explain. “According to Mr. Franco, he was with his father at the time of Melissa’s disappearance. I needed to have that corroboration, and that meeting was scheduled to run all day. I didn’t want to waste any more time investigating someone I don’t think is guilty while the real kidnapper gets away.”
Captain Saucier stared. “Statistics have shown time and again that a parent is often involved in the disappearance of a child, yet somehow you know this father can’t possibly be guilty. Fine. Problem is, you’ve now indicated that he’s a suspect to the entire city commission.”
Zach bit back a response, certain that the fact that he’d been on the receiving end of a gross miscommunication, which had led to the unfortunate city-planning meeting interruption, wasn’t going to matter one bit to the captain. “You’re right, sir. That was a miscalculation on my part, and I hope it hasn’t caused the mayor or his family any inconve nience.”
“Inconve nience…You mean like being called a suspected kiddie killer on the evening news? No, they’re used to that kind of thing. After all, they’re in the public eye.” The captain slammed one hand down on the desk. “From now on you don’t so much as shit without clearing it with me first. Do you understand me, Blanchard? I’ve got the entire city up my ass with a microscope. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that is?”
“No, sir. I don’t.”
“Damned right you don’t, and with that kind of police work, you never will.” He pointed a finger at Zach. “You will do everything on this case by the book. No hunches, no running off on rabbit trails, no funny business.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I mean it. Screw this up, and you’ll still be writing parking tickets when you’re walking with a cane.”
“Everything will be by the book. I promise.” The captain didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t start yelling again, either. Zach figured that was his opportunity to give the captain a nod and clear the room before his boss found out Zach had questioned the mother again that afternoon and the woman had collapsed in a faint just before he left.
By the book.
Just hearing the captain say those words rubbed him all wrong. He always did things by the book—except for that one time—and apparently he was never going to live that down. It was the damned book that said he should interview and alibi every member of the household as close to the disappearance as possible. Panic, stress, and unfortunately in some cases, guilt, tended to set in quickly and sometimes clouded people’s minds to information that could lead to a break in the case.
So the mayor’s assistant hadn’t exactly told him that the entire city council was in that conference room. Matter of fact, she hadn’t told him it was the conference room he was barging into. If he’d known that, he might have figured out the mayor wasn’t alone. He was a detective, after all.
He was concentrating so hard on being aggravated that he almost walked right past the woman seated in front of his desk.
“Can I help you?” he asked. She was a looker, without question.
The woman met his gaze, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Her eyes were a bright green, like the color of well-cut emeralds. He’d never seen anything quite so gorgeous on someone’s face. She rose from her chair and extended her hand. “Detective Blanchard? My name is Raissa Bordeaux. Detective Morrow said I should speak with you.”
Zach shook her hand, momentarily surprised by the firmness of her grip, then glanced across the room at Detective Morrow, usually a first-rate asshole. Morrow smirked, then shot out of the building. Great. Zach slid into his chair across the desk from the woman, certain this was going to be a waste of time. “How can I help you, Ms. Bordeaux?”
“I have information on the kidnapping of the Franco child.”
“Okay,” Zach said, and picked up a pen. “What kind of information?”
“This isn’t his first time. That child is one of many who have been taken.”
Zach stared. “Melissa Franco is the first child abduction this city has seen in a while that wasn’t a custodial issue. I think you’re mistaken, Ms. Bordeaux.”
“The others didn’t live in New Orleans. There were girls in Baton Rouge, in Florida, Mississippi, and New York. Surely there’s a way you can compare this case with other kidnappings.”
“The FBI keeps a database that we can use for such things, but what I’d like is a damned good reason why I should query that database. My boss isn’t big on notifying the feds of anything going on in his precinct. He likes control.”
“This is far bigger than your boss knows. If this is like the other cases, we’re on a short clock. All of those other girls were returned a week later.”
“With no memory of what happened, right? I’ve heard this tale before, Ms. Bordeaux, when I was a kid and my parents were trying to scare me into staying in the backyard.”
Raissa raised one eyebrow. “Oh, they all remembered something, but probably not anything you’d want to hear. You have a narrow window of opportunity to catch this person, and I’m guessing, since the victim is the mayor’s granddaughter, you don’t want to mess this up.”
Zach narrowed his eyes at the woman. “And how exactly do you know about these other kidnappings?”
She hesitated—rarely a good sign—then sighed. “I’m a psychic, Detective Blanchard. I saw the other girls in a vision.”
Zach felt his jaw clench. “I see. Well, thank you for your information, Ms. Bordeaux. I’ll be sure to add your name to the reward list in case of an arrest.”
Raissa’s face flushed with red and her eyes flashed with anger. “I debated a long time whether to come here, and it certainly wasn’t because I care about extorting money from a frantic family. Do yourself a favor and check the database. Unless, of course, you’re not interested in getting the best of your friend, the helpful Detective Morrow.”
“I can’t access that database without a direct order from my captain, which I’m not likely to get off the vision of a so-called psychic. There’s a little girl missing out there and you’re wasting our time.”
Raissa leaned across the desk and lowered her voice. “The house had a security system that was armed, but the alarm never went off and it was still engaged the following morning. There is no trace evidence, and unlike most public kidnappings, you haven’t received a ransom request.”
Zach straightened in his chair. “We haven’t released that information.”
Raissa rose from her chair. “One of us is wasting time, Detective, but it’s not me.” That said, she walked out of the precinct without so much as a backward glance.
Zach leaned back in his chair and shook his head. A psychic. Yeah, right. No wonder Morrow had been so tickled to send her over to Zach. “By-the-book Blanchard” had limited-to-no patience for anything remotely screwy. Psychics were definitely screwy. Likely, Morrow had fed her the information about the security system and ransom note just to make the practical joke more believable.
He watched as she passed on the sidewalk in front of the big window at the front of the station, and couldn’t help admiring her long lean legs, or the way she filled out a pair of jeans. What a shame. She was probably the best-looking woman he’d seen in forever.
Unfortunately, nut or no, the woman was right. He should run the case through the FBI database even though the captain hadn’t quite gotten to that point. Time was of the essence, and the case had strange components that would send up an immediate red flag if there were others with the same MO. He sat up straight and logged on to his computer, hoping like hell that the mayor’s granddaughter didn’t fit the profile of the other missing girls. If that was the case, the captain might have a heart attack, and with the way things stood now, Morrow was next in line for his job.