February 10^th, 2017. 8:12am.

“We’ve got a second missing child,” Greg said to Alex in a low voice. “Taken from the same playground.”

Chills went down Alex’s spine. “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”

Greg rubbed his chin, then shook his head. “It’d be an awfully big one,” he admitted. Alex had to agree. He turned to look at Katy, who had almost disappeared inside the house. There was something on his lips that Alex wasn’t quite fond of. “It’s a lot of publicity for an older case,” he said, and there was a slight downturn at the corner of his lips. Like he didn’t approve of what he was saying either, but he felt it was something that had to be addressed.

Alex nodded once, even though she didn’t agree. To her, there was no way Katy could have been involved. But there was no way she could say that without having to draw in at least a little bit of what they had done the night before. For now she decided to keep quiet.

“We found the woman from the ER,” Greg said, running a hand through his hair. He was in quite the gesturing mood. Maybe he’d actually slept, with Alex gone? She sort of hoped so.

“What about Devin?” Alex knew the chances of him still being in custody were slim, given everything that had happened. Not enough evidence, everything circumstantial. It was hard to keep someone with just that. The juries, the lawyers, wanted more. And in this case, right now, they didn’t have more.

“We let him go.” Greg’s lips were pressed thinly together. He was clearly as thrilled with this as she was. “We’ve got a tracker on his car so we can see where he goes. We’re also going to put surveillance on Katy’s mailbox for the next week.”

“In case he goes to someplace you’d find a kid.” Alex nodded in agreement. Good protocol. “I’ll keep an eye out when I’m here.”

“The ER woman is Susan. She’s late 30s, and had a young child about Tally’s age die in a car crash a few months before Tally disappeared.” They should have been heading to the department, but they hadn’t made it there yet. There was too much to discuss.

“Did you bring her in for questioning?” This time Alex put her hand on her SUV.

Greg nodded. “Patrol officers are bringing her to the station now.” He paused, and the way he studied Alex’s face made her think he was smarter than he looked. Which was sort of difficult, given he looked intelligent enough to put the pieces together about her and Katy already. But he didn’t say anything, so neither did Alex.

“I’ll meet you there,” Alex said simply, hopping in her car and tossing her cell on the passenger seat. She resisted the urge to text Katy; they were still in the same housing lot, at least at the moment. But she wanted her to be okay. Wanted to be able to reassure her.

But she couldn’t.

Hopefully they’d be able to find the bastard, and get Tally back. Even if Alex had to go to the moon and back, she’d do it.

Alex reached over to the dashboard and pressed the requisite buttons to dial her father. She didn’t need his help, necessarily, but she wanted it. Even if it was just to talk and reassure her that she was heading in the right direction.

“Hello?” Kiernan answered the phone after two rings. Alex felt the knot inside her chest unspool, felt her breathing come a little easier.

“Hey Dad.” Alex turned her turn signal on, shifting into the right lane in preparation for an upcoming turn. She wasn’t using it as a distraction from what she was talking about, nope.

“What’s up?” Kiernan’s voice was patient.

Alex sighed internally. He knew her too well. It was true Kiernan wasn’t her ‘real dad’, but he’d been in her life since she was six and was the father she had always wanted. Besides, the whole ‘real parents’ thing was bullshit. “No good suspects,” she said. Even with the ER woman in for questioning, things felt too nebulous and there wasn’t nearly enough good evidence to ensure a conviction.

“Not surprising.” Alex could practically feel his frown.

“We’ve got a new suspect, but…” Her words trailed off, her hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “No evidence.”

“Nothing on the photo?”

She could picture him, leaning forward at his desk, the crease between his eyebrows. “None,” Alex admitted. “And we found a second photo, this one hand delivered.”

Kiernan made a thoughtful noise. “Any cameras?”

“None that we’ve found.” Alex pressed her lips together as she thought. “The local PD are canvassing the neighborhood, looking for anyone who might have seen anything.”

“Good,” Kiernan replied.

Alex fell silent for a few moments, debating. Did she want to tell him? Technically he was retired, he wasn’t going to tell anyone. But she didn’t want to put that burden on him.

“What’s wrong, love?” Kiernan’s voice was warmer now, and the concern there curdled sour in her stomach.

“Nothing.” Alex shoved the thoughts out of her head. “Just had some bad dreams.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, as if he was pondering her answer. “Are you sure?”

Alex exhaled in a rush. “Yeah.” She forced a smile on her face. And then it turned into a true one, when she caught sight of the police station. “Gotta go,” she said.

“Bye, love.” Kiernan didn’t press her, and for that Alex was grateful.

“Bye, Dad.” She hung up the phone as she pulled into the parking lot. Her heart was starting to race some, and she forced it to calm down. Part of her wanted to talk to him. She knew he wouldn’t judge, would be compassionate. If anything, she bet that part of him had been hoping for this outcome.

But what was there to talk about? It was just one night, wasn’t anything serious. They’d been blowing off steam, they needed to forget.

And okay, Alex was ignoring the fact she hadn’t had nightmares the night before. She’d slept soundly, for the first time in months.

“Alex!” Greg’s head appeared out of the door, followed by the rest of him. Apparently he’d beaten her there, which wasn’t entirely surprising. It was both his police department and she’d been lost in the clouds for God knew how long.

“Coming!” She grabbed the case file she’d put together with her notes and headed inside, shoving Katy as far out of her thoughts as she could for the time being.

Greg had disappeared back inside by the time that Alex got inside, but he was standing a few feet away. “What do we have?” Alex asked, her professional face back on.

“She’s an insurance agent at a local company,” Greg started, talking as fast as he was moving as he rattled off the details they knew about Susan so far. “Daughter’s name was Grace, and she was five when she died in a car accident. The other driver was at fault, driving drunk.” He checked his notes, a small notepad in his pocket. “She was a reporter until about two years ago, resigned to get a more 9-5 job when she got divorced and got primary custody of her other child. Apparently picks up side jobs and works extra hours.”

“Was Grace dead on arrival?” Alex kept her voice clipped and professional, no matter how much it hurt her to do so.

Greg swallowed, she could see the bob of his Adam’s apple. “No.”

Alex bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions from showing up on her face.

“She was dying in the car, her mother trapped in there with her.”

This time Alex did wince. It was an appropriate action, really. “Shit.”

Greg nodded, and his lips were a thin line. “She still had a heartbeat in the ambulance, but crashed. The medical team tried to revive her at the hospital, with no luck.”

“Do you have kids?” Alex asked, curiosity in her voice. She’d met his wife, but she didn’t really know anything about him.

Greg exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Older than they are - were,” he corrected himself. “You?”

Alex fake-smiled. “No time in this job.” Not that she was certain she wanted them, even if it became an option. She wouldn’t wish her job on anyone. Even Katy.

Greg nodded, then pushed open another door. “She’s in room three.”

“Our approach?” Alex flipped open her notes, turning to a clear page. She’d want to record thoughts, questions. Anything that came up that she wanted to ask about later.

Greg shrugged. “She’s scared, so let’s start with that.”

Alex nodded, then tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to soften her expression. With scared civilians, her severe look did more harm than good in terms of getting them to open up.

Greg was the first one in, Alex behind him, and Susan watched them with silent, wary eyes as they settled into the seats opposite her. Alex looked her over with a detached sort of curiosity. Mousy, late 30s now, with long, plain brown hair and dark eyes. She had the smudges under her eyes of someone who didn’t sleep well, and the red rims from crying. If her daughter had been killed a few months prior to Tally’s disappearance, then it meant they weren’t that far from the anniversary. Was it that? Or was it guilt?

She was dressed like the typical soccer Mom, and Alex made a note to ask after her other child.

“What am I doing here?” Susan asked. Her voice was more nasal than Alex had expected, but she didn’t let that show on her face.

“We want to talk to you about your daughter.” Greg kept his voice gentle, even in the face of her hostility as she tensed in the chair.

Alex was watching her, still silent. It was obvious to her that Susan knew why she was there, she was just deflecting. “Do you have any kids?” Alex leaned forward the slightest amount. She kept her face still, but softened somehow, so it came across as a question instead of an accusation. She started with questions she knew the answer to, to see how willing Susan was to talk.

“Two.” Susan’s gaze flickered away, and Alex wasn’t certain whether that was a lie or something else. Or if it was a lie, what the lie was about. “Grace and Alice.”

“How old are they?” Alex asked conversationally.

“Grace was five.” Susan swallowed thickly, and Alex saw hints of tears forming at the corner of her eyes before she stubbornly wiped them away. “Alice is three now.”

Alex nodded, jotting this down. The age of the younger daughter was interesting; she’d have to look into the timing. “Are you married?”

Susan let out a short laugh. “Was.” Her voice was bitter. “We divorced a couple years ago.”

That wasn’t surprising. The death of a child did one of two things - it either drew a couple closer together, or wrenched them apart. More couples than Alex wanted to admit had ended up the latter. It did mean that both kids likely had the same father, although that was something she’d check into as well.

“Can you tell us about what happened the day Grace was in the accident?” Greg’s voice was gentle.

Susan wasn’t looking at them now. Instead she was turning the pen in her hands over and over with sharp, jerky movements. “It was a normal day,” she said, and her voice was bitter. “Grace had kindergarten. She was getting ready to go up to first grade, she’d been doing so well.” A choked sigh. “We were heading home from her ballet class when we were hit.” Her eyes were distant, but Alex could see them mist over. Even three years later, it was still hard to talk about. She’d seen the same thing in other parents.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Alex said softly. Susan didn’t look at her, didn’t seem to even acknowledge the words.

“I couldn’t do anything.” Susan raised her head, and this time she met Alex’s gaze. Her eyes were hard now, and it was like Greg wasn’t even there. “She was in the backseat. I was stuck in the car.” Her fingers were tapping on the table, drumming from left to right. “Then when we finally got her to the hospital, the doctors, the nurses, did nothing.” She practically spit the words out.

Alex nodded politely, keeping her face impassive. She knew no matter what she said or did, Susan was going to have an issue with it. It wasn’t surprising, really. It was obviously a sensitive issue for her, not that Alex could blame her. “Were you pregnant at the time?”

Susan studied her in silence.

Alex waited her out.

“Yes.” That was all she said, the single word. Alex nodded again, jotted it down. She would need to see corroboration from the OB, most likely. Not to rule out whether or not Susan was a suspect, but if she was lying about the events, it meant she had something to hide.

“Can you remember where you were on January 21^st, 2014?” Greg was the one who asked.

Susan turned her gaze to him for a few moments, then shifted back to Alex. For some reason she’d made it personal for Alex, identified her as the enemy. That was fine with Alex. If Susan was guilty, if she’d done something wrong, she’d go to the ends of the Earth to make sure they could build a case. It didn’t have to be personal for her to do that. “That’s a long time ago, Officer.”

“Detective Rydell,” Greg corrected politely. There was a flash of irritation on Susan’s face, but she inclined her head towards him.

“What day was it?” Susan asked.

“Tuesday.” Alex smiled politely.

“Ah.” Susan hummed thoughtfully, and there was a looseness to her that Alex didn’t like. She was too cocky, too composed. “I worked, and then probably went to the bar.”

Alex lifted her head a fraction at that. “Which bar?” Wasn’t that where Devin had been, at a bar?

“Lithrow’s, in Glendale.” Susan shrugged. “I lived there for a few years.”

“Where are you now?” Alex asked, checking the file for an address.

“Gilbert.” Susan held her eye contact.

Alex hummed noncommittally. There was a knock on the door, drawing both Greg and Alex’s attention.

“We’ll be right back,” Greg said with a polite smile. Susan smiled back, but there was something off about it, something mocking.

Alex followed Greg out of the interrogation room. Standing there was one of the forensic techs, a worried expression on her face and a file in her hands.

“About the photo?” Greg double-checked that the door was closed behind them. “Anything?”

The forensic tech shook her head. “No prints, no DNA, nothing. Whoever closed the envelope used dual-sided tape.”

“Anything underneath the tape?” Alex asked.

“Maybe microscopically.” The forensic tech shrugged. “We’ve shipped the envelope and photo to the FBI office as fast as it’ll go, for processing. Prelim results say it’s real, but we’ll know in a couple days for sure.”

That would take time, time they didn’t have. Alex turned her attention back to the interrogation room, nerves simmering under her skin. Susan was going to go free, whether she had done something or not. They had nothing.