Page 72 of Dirty Looks

“Where do they even begin to pick up the pieces?” I asked quietly, nodding in their direction. “How’s Everett supposed to go home and tell his wife everything he learned today?”

“I can’t even imagine,” Jack said. “But they have each other, at least what’s left of their family, and they’ll figure it out together.”

Everett got up from the lounger and went in the opposite direction so he didn’t have to talk to anyone, and he got in his car and drove away. But Carson and Janet came toward us. Carson’s arm was wrapped tightly around his wife, and her face was swollen and blotchy from crying, but it looked like Everetthad been right. Carson loved his wife and would stick with her no matter what.

“Sheriff,” she said, and then she encompassed all of us and I could see the polished politician in her. “I feel like I need to apologize for the mess that is my family.”

“You don’t,” Jack said. “We’re here to help however we can.”

“I’m glad you were able to make an arrest for Mother’s murder, and I hope you catch every one of those bastards.”

“We’re not going to stop looking,” Jack promised. “And we’re going to follow up every lead. Sex trafficking is an epidemic in this country that no one wants to tackle because of what it might uncover.”

“You’re right,” she said. “Which is why I’m going to make it my mission to start uncovering it from my position. There are girls and women like me all over this country. They don’t have a voice. Maybe I can give them one.”

“I think that’s a policy we can all get behind,” Jack said. “Make sure you take some time for yourself too.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Carson,” she said with a glimmer of a smile.

“Sounds like the sheriff is pretty smart to me,” Carson said. “We met Everett’s friends yesterday. Dr. Bancroft and his wife. Everett said he’s a very successful psychologist, and mentioned that his regular patients frequently include high officials and politicians. Everett said we should give him a call and set something up, but I forgot to ask him for his information.”

“That sounds like good advice,” Jack said. “Actually, I’ve got his card in my wallet.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and took out the card with Peter Bancroft’s information on it, and then he handed it to Carson.

“Thank you,” Carson said. “Come on, Janet. Let’s go pick up Jason and go home.”

She nodded and then thanked us once more, and then it was just the three of us.

“I think we’ve got a problem,” Jack said.

“Why?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

“We need a laptop and Doug,” he said.

“On the phone or in the flesh?” Martinez asked.

“Grab your laptop and let’s go inside,” Jack said.

I raised my brows but followed him back inside and into one of the side rooms that was empty. Jack already had Doug on the phone and put him on speaker.

“Doug, you there?”

“I’m here,” he said. “My eyes are starting to cross with all this financial stuff. Whoever is moving all that money around is a freaking genius. Small amounts, large amounts, thousands of accounts. Did you hear me say that? Thousands of accounts all over the world. That is not a good sign.”

“No, it’s not,” Jack said. “But what we can focus on is what’s here in front of us. Robert Lidle, Astrid Nielsen, and Geoffrey Higgins. We know they were all involved in what happened to Evie. But there were others.

“We’ve got an eyewitness account that on the night of Evie’s murder there were two dark SUVs driving around Regent Park sometime before midnight. One of the drivers was identified as a woman.”

“Astrid?” Martinez asked, setting up the laptop on the table.

“I thought it could have been,” Jack answered. “But if it was she left her cell phone at the Lidle residence because it shows she never left that night. We know Robert Lidle showed up in King George Proper about a mile from Regent Park the night Evie died for a kind of indoctrination. But whoever was supposed to transport her got carried away and took her for himself. Maybe he had another buyer lined up and was going to take it outside the family, so to speak.

“And then she somehow managed to escape and he really started to panic. We never found her clothes. Imagine a naked, bruised, and bloody child running through the country streets and fields looking for someone to help her. Who do you call for help? Who do you trust? Not the person who hired you. Robert Lidle would have put a bullet through him if he’d found out. Or at least paid someone to do it.”

My eyes widened as I started to see the picture that was being painted. “You call your wife,” I said.

“I’m still not following,” Doug said.

“Get in line, kid,” Martinez quipped.

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