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She snorted like it was funny. “No. That would be Dempsey, but Adam was given lead on this op, and that makes him the onsite boss until we wrap it up.”
I slumped back into the couch, realizing the woman I’d thought I’d bonded with was only here because it was her job.
“And,” she added, “Adam is like a brother to me. You’re important to him, and that makes you important to me, so I’m not leaving until we know you’re safe.”
“Of course I’m safe. He’s dead.”
She shook her head and snorted again, like I was a child who didn’t get it. “And what makes you so sure that guy wasn’t just an errand boy for the real SMK? Until we have evidence one way or the other, I don’t know that, and neither do you.”
Her words erased the certainty I’d had a moment ago that my nightmare was over. Now I desperately wanted Adam to come through the door and hold me.
Chapter 35
Adam
With the newsthat another woman’s life was in play, we had to hustle. Before leaving the Circle, I pocketed the Secret Service tracker and gave the bag of fake jewels to Doug to log.
I sent Doug and Oscar to check out Evelyn Gossen’s apartment and get the search for her underway, and Rylie to take Kelly back to my place.
Neil and I reached Len Sanderson’s house in record time. The office had called while we were driving to give us his particulars.
He lived alone—nearest relative was a sister in Seattle. He worked as a guard at the Smithsonian, and his record was clean, not even a speeding ticket. He’d been married, but his wife was deceased.
I cleared the downstairs and came up empty checking for the abducted girl.
Neil holstered his gun as he returned from upstairs. “No sign of our lady.”
We donned gloves and started a simple search before the forensic techs arrived.
Downstairs was neatly kept and pretty plain, save multiple photos of a woman, who—based on the ring on her finger in the pictures—had to be his wife. Searching his desk went quickly. The guy had been neat and organized. His files didn’t show any evidence of a secondary location—no bills or papers of any kind on another property, a storage location, or anything beyond this house.
“Cleaner than my place,” I told Neil. “You sure this guy was single?”
“Easiest way to tell is the bathroom upstairs.”
Neil’s phone rang. “Yeah, we’re there now. Okay, I’ll tell him. Thanks.” He hung up. “Dempsey wants us to confirm if we’re sure this is our guy before he talks to HQ.”
I checked my phone. It wasn’t dead. Dempsey should have called me, but chose Neil instead.
Neil led the way into the master bedroom. “This guy seriously missed his wife.” Even more photos lined the walls. In serial killer cases, the victims were often similar to someone in the killer’s prior life, but not here. Neither of the two previous victims, or Kelly, resembled the wife, or even each other.
The upstairs drawers all contained what we would expect, and the bathroom had not a single item to suggest a woman in the house.
I opened a small wooden case on the nightstand. “Bingo.” I held up my find. “This pretty much nails it. Souvenirs: four drivers licenses and four rings.”
“Names?” he asked.
I nodded as I fanned through them. I saw our two vics, plus Evelyn Gossen, and a new name we hadn’t run across.
Neil came over to my side of the bed to examine them. “Who’s Ruth Picard?”
I shook my head. “No idea.” I got on the phone to the office to have them run it down after bagging what I’d found.
The forensic team arrived and started downstairs, and we’d finished upstairs when the answer to our question arrived. This time I got the call.
“Ruth Picard was a missing person case a year and a half ago, handled by Montgomery County Police. No resolution,” the support tech said.
“Why didn’t she come up on our radar? We have a Smithsonian badge here.”
