“Are you sure it’s not just a mess? My daughter’s dorm room used to look like—”
“I’m certain,” Sean said. He examined the living room of his daughter’s narrow basement apartment. A lamp was broken and a desk nearby had all the drawers pulled out. The galley kitchen, which was just a sink and refrigerator separated from the living area by a small counter, had pots, pans, and shattered dishes littered on the floor.
“Have you called the District police, Sean? There’s jurisdictional issues I’ll need to—”
“I’ve only called you. I want someone who knows Abby and who’ll give a shit.”
A sigh blew into the phone’s receiver. “How long’s she been missing?”
“It’s not the amount of time I’m worried about, Frank. It’s her apartment. Someone’s broken in and she’s not responding to calls or texts. Please, I want someone here I trust. I’m asking you as a friend—as a father—to please come.” Sean tried to steady his breathing.
Pacini was quiet. After a long pause, he said, “Okay, Sean. Give me the address. And don’t touch anything until I arrive.”
CHAPTER 10
It was thirty minutes before Sean heard the knock on Abby’s door. As Pacini instructed, he hadn’t touched anything, but he had carefully roamed, visually inspecting the apartment. The bedroom and bathroom, like the rest of the place, were torn apart.
Pacini scanned the living room and agreed that it wasn’t simply a student’s clutter. “I don’t think we need to panic,” Pacini said. “She could’ve just gone out of town with friends, and someone noticed her apartment was vacant and broke in. When’s the last time you spoke with her?”
Sean thought about this. “Actually talked? About a week ago. She called me yesterday afternoon, but I missed the call.”
“Was she planning any trips or has she taken off in the past? My daughter’s pulled that crap and scared the hell out of us just like this.”
“You’ve met Abby. It’s the end of the semester at law school and she’s obsessive about her grades, so she wouldn’t take off. She also doesn’t own a car. And you know Emily. Abby wouldn’t dare make her mother worry like this.”
Pacini walked into the living room, his steps purposeful, each foot landing so he didn’t move any debris. He was wearing what Ryan would call “dad jeans” and a polo.
“We need to call in the District police. I’m not sure if Abby’s apartment is within the jurisdiction of the Capitol Police, but I’ll reach out to my contacts there too. Don’t worry, I’ll stay involved as long as I can. And I’ll get some agents from the Bureau here tonight. The field office is only five minutes away.”
“Thank you, Frank.”
Pacini nodded. “I need a recent photo of Abby.”
Sean clicked on his smartphone and pulled up a photo of his daughter. It was a close-up, her face freckled from the sun, taken last summer at the beach.
“And I need her mobile phone number and carrier,” Pacini added. “We may be able to track her phone.”
Pacini pulled out his own mobile. Before dialing he said, “I think she’s gonna turn up fine, Sean, but I have to ask you some questions because the people I’m gonna call will ask.”
Sean nodded.
“Has Abby been having any problems with anyone? A boyfriend, neighbor, or anyone?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Anything out of the ordinary with Abby lately? Drinking too much or—”
Sean cut him off with a sharp shake of the head.
Pacini hesitated. “Have you had any problems with anyone? Threats?”
“Me? Why would I get threats? And what would that have to do with Abby?”
“The newspaper stories about your possible nomination to the Supreme Court.”
It hadn’t occurred to Sean that Abby’s disappearance could be related to him. “No one in the public knows who I am. Hell, more people can identify Judge Judy than a justice on the Supreme Court, much less someone who might be a nominee. No threats, nothing like that.” His mind drifted to the man on the subway, but he dismissed it quickly.
“I’m gonna keep that avenue open,” Pacini said. “Not because I believe there’s anything to it. But because it gives my agents a plausible jurisdictional hook.”
Pacini began making calls, and Sean left the apartment to get some air. Outside, the moon gave the street a silver glow. Headlights approached and part of him expected Abby to pull up in a friend’s car and yell at him for being a ridiculous, smothering father. But when the sedan stopped in front of Abby’s apartment, two men in blue windbreakers climbed out. Pacini’s team. Sean opened the SUV’s door, deciding it was time to make the call he dreaded. Emily.
CHAPTER 11
From the overhead speakers, Emily’s sobbing filled the SUV as Sean tried to sound convincing that Abby would be okay. But he had a lump like a fist lodged in his throat. There was a knock on the window.
“Hold on, Em, Frank needs something.”