The Missing Page 0,34

She was the better looking of the two, razor thin, with sharp blue eyes set against pale, freckled skin.

No, it wasn’t a physical attraction; Darby felt sure of that. The trait these two youngwomen shared was something beyond the surface, something she couldn’t see.

The problem was that Darby didn’t know Carol beyond the framed pictures on the hallway and the pieces of evidence collected in bags – she didn’t know Terry Mastrangelo at all. At the moment, both women were snapshots frozen in pictures.

Terry Mastrangelo was a single mother.

Dianne Cranmore was a single mother.

Was Carol’s mother the intended target?

Granted, Dianne Cranmore was a full decade older than Terry, but age didn’t seem to be a factor in the abductor’s selection process. The idea was still turning over in Darby’s mind when she stood and headed back to the mother’s bedroom.

Dianne had spent good money on the comforter and sheets. She had some decent jewelry, but nothing worth stealing. Wellworn clothes hung inside the closet. It looked like she splurged a little on nice shoes.

Across from the bed was a cheap bookcase holding framed pictures of Carol as a baby. Two shelves were crammed with paperback romance novels plucked from library book sales. The books and trinkets on the bottom shelf were coated with dust – except for the three black leather-bound albums. Those had been moved.

Had Dianne pulled them out last night? If she did, why had she returned them? Maybe she wanted another picture of Carol – the one that was printed on the flyers.

Darby snapped on a pair of latex gloves and settled on the carpeted floor to examine the bottom shelf.

Mounted underneath the shelf, tucked in the far corner so it was safely out of view, was a small black plastic box half the size of a sugar packet. Sticking out of one side, a quarter inch in length, was an antenna.

A listening device.

Grabbing the penlight from her shirt pocket, Darby lay on her back and examined the black box. It was secured to the wood by a Velcro mounting strip. No wires, so it was most likely battery operated.

There were devices on the market that could be turned on and off remotely to save battery power; some were voice activated. They all had different transmitting ranges. What she needed to know were the specifications of this device.

Darby leaned in closer, hoping to find the manufacturer’s name and model number. She didn’t see it. The manufacturer’s stamp was most likely located on one of the sides flush against the wood, or on the back of the unit. In order to find it, she’d have to tear the device away from the Velcro strip. There was no way to do that quietly.

And if he’s listening right now, he’ll hear it and know we’ve found the listening device.

Darby stood up, legs fluttering, and hustled back to search Carol’s room again.

Chapter 26

Darby found a second listening device underneath Carol’s bed, mounted against the frame. Like the first device, this unit had been placed in such a way that she couldn’t find the manufacturer’s name or model number.

Two listening devices. She wondered how many more were inside the house.

Here was something else to think about: If Carol’s abductor had taken the time to install listening devices inside the house, was he was also monitoring police radio and cell phones? They sold police scanners at Radio Shack, and cell phone frequencies were just as easy to pick up, if you had the right equipment.

Coop was in the kitchen. She caught his attention, pressed a finger to her lips, then wrote what she had found on his clipboard.

He nodded and started to search the kitchen. Darby went outside.

Bloodhounds and their handlers were searching the woods, their barks echoing through the pleasantly warm air. Standing on the front porch, she dialed Banville’s number and watched a man limp his way over to a telephone pole and use a staple gun to tack up a leaflet holding Carol’s picture. She wondered if Carol’s abductor was sitting in his car right now, listening.

Darby remembered the monitoring equipment the feds had used in a case she and Coop had worked on last year. The equipment was big and bulky. If Carol’s abductor was using similar equipment, it would need to be placed in something like the back of the van.

Banville picked up.

‘Where are you?’ Darby asked.

‘On my way back from Lynn,’ Banville said. ‘I got a call early this morning about our boy LBC. He’s been crashing