I See You (Criminal Profiler #2) - Mary Burton Page 0,61

and rubber bands. She reached inside the drawer and patted her hand along the back edge but felt nothing. The next drawer contained Hadley’s calendar with workout schedules. A pat down of this drawer also revealed nothing. The third and final drawer was deeper than the first two and contained fitness manuals.

She thumbed through each book and found only random notes that Hadley had made in neat handwriting along the edges that referenced questions about the book’s content.

When she searched the back of the third drawer, her fingers skimmed over the edge of something. She removed a worn envelope and its contents.

The much-older picture featured a family of four, including Dad, Mom, and their two smiling blond daughters. There was no mistaking the girls. They were Hadley and Marsha.

All the Princes were smartly dressed and looked happy. This picture appeared to have been taken shortly before Marsha had vanished. She flipped it over, and written on the back were the words I remember. Do you?

“Remember what?” Vaughan asked.

“Good question. The photo is weathered and bears the photographer’s embossed logo,” Zoe said.

“Why would Hadley hide the picture in the back of an office desk drawer?” he asked. “If it upset her that much, why not just destroy it?”

“My guess is she wanted to, but something held her back,” Zoe said. “Guilt. Remorse. Fear.”

“Have you ever seen this picture?” Vaughan asked Sharon.

“About three weeks ago, I saw it on her desk, but as soon as I came in her office, she put it away.”

“She would have been about seventeen when this was taken.” Zoe showed the picture to Vaughan.

Interest flickered in his gaze, but he said nothing. He snapped a picture of the photo with his phone and removed a plastic evidence bag from his pocket. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

“No. No. If you think it will help find Hadley and Skylar,” Sharon said.

“Thank you, Sharon,” Zoe said. “Detective, are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Neither spoke as the beat of music, the clink of weight machines, and the whoosh of elliptical trainers followed them out through the glass front doors. The parking lot was thinning as the ten o’clock closing time approached.

When they reached his car, she asked, “What did you make of the note?”

“Written by someone who knew Hadley before her sister vanished.”

“What do you think the chances are that we’ll pull a good print from the photo?”

“Slim. But it’s worth a try.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tuesday, August 13, 10:30 p.m.

Alexandria, Virginia

Just over Fifteen Hours after the 911 Call

The police tip line lit up within minutes of the press conference, and as predicted, it was generating dozens of leads. Several callers said they had seen either one or both of the Foster women, but each time a uniformed officer followed up, the lead took them nowhere.

Vaughan was pulling into the police station when his phone rang. “It’s the medical examiner.”

Spencer checked her watch. “They’ve had the Jane Doe from the dumpster for two hours. And Galina Grant for almost two days.”

“Detective Vaughan.” It had been less than two days since he’d dropped Nate off at school, but it felt as if it had been a lifetime ago.

“This is Baldwin.”

Phil Baldwin was the medical examiner, and the two had worked together on many cases. “Phil. Sorry I didn’t get by today for the Grant autopsy.”

“I watched the news and know you have your hands full. I wanted you to know the examination of Galina Grant is complete. As you suspected at the crime scene, it was the knife wound to her neck that killed her. Even if she’d been in an emergency room seconds after it happened, it would have been nearly impossible to save her.”

That gave Vaughan little comfort. “I also sent a Jane Doe your way.”

“After I conducted a preliminary external examination on this victim, I expedited her autopsy.”

“Why?”

“Her wound patterns are almost identical to Galina Grant’s.”

Vaughan was silent for a moment as he weighed this new development. “Special Agent Zoe Spencer and I can be there in half an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

The drive west to the Commonwealth of Virginia Medical Examiner’s Northern Virginia office took almost forty minutes. He looped around the I-495 beltway but was quickly brought to a standstill on I-66 thanks to a fender bender. It was past eleven o’clock before he pulled up in front of the modern building outfitted with large windows.

Both showed identification to the night guard, who called down to Baldwin. Minutes passed before the elevator doors opened and Baldwin stepped off. Dressed in scrubs, Baldwin