Page 52 of Little Child Gone

“Liam is communicating with Indianapolis public transportation. He hasn’t been spotted. But maybe we’re looking too far away.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Taylor’s a band kid, right?” Nikki said. “Granted, I only played two years, but I remember going to competitions all over Minnesota and Wisconsin and meeting new people. We didn’t really stay in touch, but technology has changed all that.”

“That’s true,” Miller said. “First thing my daughters do when they meet someone is create a contact in their phone.”

“Exactly,” Nikki said. “Taylor may not be allowed on social media, but he could get away with it at school. He could have been communicating with someone he met a while ago and decided to meet her somewhere.”

“State troopers are looking within a fifty-mile radius of the county,” Miller said. “I’ll call the Wisconsin State Police since Hudson’s across the river. I’d forgotten until you mentioned it, but I’m pretty sure my daughter had a band competition there at some point.”

“We always did,” Nikki said. “It’s worth a shot.” She merged into busy interstate traffic and silently counted to ten. “I’m headed to the hospital to talk to Jared when he’s out of surgery. I’ll let you know how it goes.” She started to say more, but Blanchard’s number flashed on the screen. “I’ll let you know what she says,” she told Miller before switching calls.

“Hi, Doctor Blanchard.”

“Doctor Willard confirmed the skeleton in the corner of the closet is a male between twelve and twenty-five.” Blanchard never bothered with niceties. “They’re cleaning the bones of the victim in the trunk, so it will be at least a day before Doctor Willard can confirm sex. We were able to completely reassemble the male skeleton, and there are no obvious marks on the bones that would suggest cause of death. He might have been killed elsewhere, but he was left to decompose right there.”

“What about CODIS?” The DNA database contained profiles taken from violent crime scenes throughout the country.

“We’re getting the male profile into the database now,” Blanchard said. “I’ll let you know if we get any sort of hit. Doctor Willard is going to bring me a DNA sample from the other set of remains later today. I’m going to upload them to NamUs as well.”

The National Missing and Unidentified Persons System that had started as a passion project for an amateur sleuth had grown into the country’s database for missing and unidentified people. Initially, the information had been limited to whatever the pathologist could glean from the victim’s body, but now they were able to work with the DOJ for DNA collection.

“ViCAP too,” Nikki reminded her. The database for violent crime was a long shot, but if the victims turned out to be related to a felon, they’d at least have a starting point. With so little information, identification through one of the DNA databases was their best chance at narrowing things down. “Did Miller mention an August 2015 hit-and-run to you?”

“He sent me an email, but I haven’t got to it yet,” Blanchard said. “You think that victim could be related to the ones from the house?”

“I do, and I haven’t had a chance to talk to Courtney about any of this. Could you pull that 2015 record and send it to her for DNA comparison? Apparently, she was Hispanic.”

“I’m about to go into the autopsy suite,” Blanchard said. “I can do it after that.”

“Thanks. I haven’t had a moment to think about the cold case today. We’ve got another missing fourteen-year-old boy.”

SIXTEEN

Hennepin County Medical Center occupied several blocks in downtown Minneapolis. Nikki parked in the garage with the easiest access to plastics on the fifth floor. She showed her credentials to the security guards checking people into the hospital and signed in. A volunteer offered to let the fifth-floor charge nurse know Nikki was on the way, but she declined. Hearing the FBI wanted to talk to a person tended to color their testimony. The massive hospital had multiple surgical suites, and Jared could be in a different department since he’d been called into emergency surgery, which gave Nikki the opportunity to talk to the nurses without risking Jared overhearing.

Nikki squeezed through the crowd on the elevator, grateful to be out of the box. Each department had security doors to enter the floor. Nikki waited a couple of minutes before someone returned to the main desk inside the department to buzz her in.

“Hi.” She showed her badge to the student volunteer. “Is Doctor Hall still in surgery?”

“I’m not sure.” He logged into his computer. “Yes, the surgical suite is still occupied. What’s this about?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” she answered. “Is the charge nurse or another RN familiar with Doctor Hall available?”

“Not sure about that either.” He motioned for Nikki to follow him and led her into the waiting area. “Let me see who I can find.”

While she waited, Nikki checked her messages. Chen hadn’t called, but she had several emails about other cases, including requests for profiles.

“Agent Hunt?” A sandy-haired woman about Nikki’s age entered the waiting room. “I’m Melinda, the charge nurse tonight. Doctor Hall’s in surgery, but he told me we might hear from the police or FBI. Is there any news on Taylor?”

So much for the element of surprise. “Not yet. I just had some follow-up questions for Doctor Hall, but while we’re waiting, how long have you worked with him?”

“I’ve been here since I started nursing,” Melinda answered. “I’d already come to the plastics floor before Doctor Hall arrived.”

“I take it you think highly of him?” Nikki asked.

“Oh yes,” Melinda replied. “Surgeons tend to be… confident, but Doctor Hall treats everyone like we know as much as he does. It feels more like a team than any other unit I’ve worked in.”

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