Quinn - Iris Johansen [28]
“It’s gigantic to me, too,” he said gently. “Anything else?”
“Not yet.” She leaned back in the chair. “What about the footprint in the cave?”
“We’re working on it. It’s not the usual shoe. It’s rubberized…”
“A tennis shoe?”
“Not exactly. The pattern is different … We’re working on it. We’ll get there. I’m going to go to a shoe manufacturer downtown when I leave here and see if he can identify it.” He was glancing through the reports. “But first, why don’t we go and take a look at these houses.”
“Why?”
“These are the kids’ home bases. Children stay close to their home at this age. It’s where they may have been kidnapped.”
“But according to the reports, only two of the parents think their child was taken from the neighborhood.”
“We’ll still take a look.” He turned. “If you want to go with me.”
“Of course, I do.” She was beside him in a moment. “And to the shoe factory, too.”
He shrugged. “Just routine investigation. I could just as well phone you after I finish.”
“Nothing is routine.” She got into the car. “I’ve forgotten what the word means.”
So had Joe. Since the moment he had met her, nothing had been routine or commonplace in his life. “Where, first?”
“Chestnut Hills. Linda Cantrell. It’s in Kennesaw.”
His brows lifted. “You rattled that off. I’m surprised you haven’t memorized the address.”
“I have. I’ve memorized all of them. I’ll tell you when we’re closer.”
* * *
“THE HOUSES ARE ALL DIFFERENT styles,” Eve said. “Tudors, modern, cottage…” Her gaze wandered over the neat lush lawn and clipped bushes that surrounded Nita Teller’s home. “Small, medium, large … As home bases, they have very little in common. They’re just pleasant houses in suburban neighborhoods. I think we struck out.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Joe was staring thoughtfully at the house. “I can’t put my finger on it right now, but something may strike me later. What’s next?”
“Janey Bristol. She’s the last one in Atlanta. The others are from your list of outside the city. She’s about five miles from here, in Roswell. Do we have time before we go downtown to that shoe company?”
Joe nodded. “We got through these neighborhoods quickly. You had them organized very efficiently.”
She handed him the address. “I put her last. I guess I wasn’t very eager to imagine Janey where she was happiest. It hurts after last night.” She tilted her head. “You’re very thoughtful. You do think this was helpful?”
“As I said, sometime something sticks in your mind, then it comes together later.”
“You’re very good at this, aren’t you?”
He smiled. “Hell, yes.”
“And so modest.”
“I’ve never lacked an appreciation for my own worth. I see nothing wrong in confidence as long as it’s not misplaced.”
“Neither do I. It was the first thing I noticed about you,” she said quietly. “I wanted the FBI to send an older agent. Someone who had worlds of experience and could use it to find Bonnie. I was angry that instead they sent me a young man who acted as if he knew how to shape the world to suit himself. You were good-looking, tough, smart, and oozed assurance. I wanted to kick you.”
“I appreciate your restraint.”
“And then I saw something in you. And I thought that maybe it would be okay between us.”
“And it is.” He glanced at the address again. “The Bristol subdivision should be just ahead.”
She tensed. “Last night I kept thinking of that skeleton and the skull. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I kept thinking how I’d feel if that was all I had left of Bonnie.”
“And it tore you to pieces.”
“Yes, that goes without saying. But I wanted to help the Bristols. And there was nothing that I could do.” Her smile was bittersweet. “I almost feel as if we’re all a family who have been visited by some catastrophic disease and have to nurse each other through it.”
Joe turned into the subdivision. “I think you have enough on your plate without trying to cure all those other victims.”
“There is no cure except catching that monster. I believe we have to— What on earth!”
Joe muttered a curse as he stomped on the brakes. The street before the Bristol house