“We’ll start and see where it takes us.”
When they stepped into her office, he walked over, opened her terrace doors while she went to her command center. Galahad, sprawled over her sleep chair, yawned.
“Do you want the search results in your office or here?” she asked Roarke.
“My office for now. You take the room. Let’s try for an hour.”
She sat, sent Roarke the whole damn mess, then remembered to take off the sunshades. Before she started her updates, she pounced on a report from Harvo.
And optimism kicked her in the ass.
No exact matches on the underwear from any outlet. Similar designs with the same or similar materials? What Harvo rightfully called a “slew.”
She’d keep working it, but opined the products had been designed, manufactured, and sold off-book.
“Yeah, so dead end there, or close to it.”
Hoping for better, she read a quick report from Willowby.
The detective monitored some chatter about upcoming sales, auctions, import, exports. The fact children were nothing more than products to move on the market sat hard in her gut.
And carrying that, she did the initial updates, board and book, before bringing up Peabody’s data.
She added more names and faces and files to her categories.
“Computer, run probability on category one. Highest to lowest with current data, subject abducted by same party or parties as Mina Cabot and Dorian Gregg.”
Current data is insufficient for top-level accuracy …
“Run it anyway.”
Acknowledged. Working …
While it worked, she programmed more coffee, put her boots up, and with her eyes and mind on the board, let the whole thing circle.
Slick, sophisticated, structured organization. Considering the quality of Mina’s clothing, well-funded and/or profitable. Multiple employees—had to have multiple employees, had to have a secure property for housing. Almost certainly had to have some sort of studio to generate photos, vids. Had to generate healthy food, the grooming crap. Medicals on board? Highly probable.
Guards—matrons? She thought of her years in state schools. Matrons—they didn’t call them guards, but hell, same deal. But female for the females. They sure as hell didn’t want some perv （though they came in female varieties, too） screwing around with the students.
Or vice versa, she remembered.
Female guards, she decided. Couldn’t have the staff devaluing the product.
Who paid them? Who headed the whole thing up? An individual, a syndicate, a partnership?
Probability complete …
“Results on-screen,” Eve ordered. “Well, son of a bitch.”
She dropped her feet, leaned forward. In the first category run, the Mina category, she had three who hit over ninety percent.
“Computer, run second category.”
Acknowledged. Warning: data insufficient for top-level accuracy. Working …
Eve pulled out the three case files, then held up a hand when Roarke came back in.
“Wait, okay. I might have something. Nydia Lu, age twelve, West Bloomfield, New Jersey. Missing since September 2060. Left school—private—after orchestra practice. Plays the violin. Walked a block with a couple friends, peeled off to walk the next three blocks home. Never made it. No ransom demand, no trace.
“What do you see?”
“A striking young girl. Mixed race, gorgeous, happy eyes, a shy smile.”
Eve ordered a printout. “Put her up on the board, will you?”
She brought up the next.
“Aster McMillian, age thirteen, Potomac, Maryland. Missing since February. Play practice, vanished on the four-block walk from school. Private—exclusive, too, this one looks like. Wealthy family, one older sib, one younger. No ransom demand, no trace. You’d say striking again?”
“I would, yes. Blond hair, blue eyes, bright, confident smile.”
“Got one more who hit over ninety probability. Insufficient data, my ass. Liberty Stone, age eleven—twelve now—Pike Creek, Delaware. Missing since October 2060. Choir practice—school choir. Private. Two fricking blocks from there to her house. Solid family—one sib. No ransom, no trace.”
“Another young beauty,” Roarke said. “Golden brown skin, green eyes, hint of dimples. If these girls were taken by the same people, that’s up to five.”
“It’s going to be more. These are just the over ninety in the Mina category. I’ve got it running the Dorian type. Then I did a mix on a third. Plus, the insufficient data crap. It’s factoring locations, distances. When we open that up?”