The 9th Girl

He watched the security video from the Holiday station again. Pe

He rewound the tape to five minutes before Pe

One man caught his eye, not for being suspicious in his behavior, but for seeming vaguely familiar—a short guy, stocky, thi

Several minutes later on the video, Pe

Where was Pe

Kovac got up from his chair, went to the timeline, made a note. He stood back, ran his tongue over his teeth, and tried to rub the grit out of his eyes with the heels of his hands. It was nearly five A.M.

In need of a break to reboot his brain, he turned the VCR off and changed the cha

A lawsuit and the loss of his job and his pension, probably.

The guy had never had a criminal complaint made against him. Elwood would call any organizations and ethics boards Warner had to answer to in his professional life, but he’d found nothing against the man yet.

Warner had said the reason he had stopped seeing Pe

Then again, just who was she supposed to raise hell to? Her mother? The mother who found her irritating and aggravating? The mother who was now engaged to Michael Warner?

Elwood had taped copies of Pe

I’m a bother

I’m a burden

I’m a liar

Close the curtain

Don’t wa

Don’t believe it

Shut your mouth

She can’t conceive it

I’m not the dream

I’m just a nightmare

I’m in the way

Life’s just so unfair

I should come first

But I’m called

worst

Just a problem

She can’t solve

Unloved

Just who was Pe

Or had Warner bought the girl’s silence with a car? People sold out for less. It seemed pretty damned generous to buy your girlfriend’s daughter a car for her birthday. Then again, a mobile teenager was out of the way. Warner’s decision might have been strategic to getting more alone time with Julia.

Kovac turned back to the TV and changed the cha

As much as the news media irritated him, he had never been able to shake the habit of begi

But it wasn’t Dana Nolan’s angelic face that greeted him as he changed to her station. A slightly older woman with thick maroon hair and a worried expression had taken Dana’s seat at the desk. She seemed flustered and distracted.

Even as Kovac began to form the thought that something wasn’t right, a photograph of Dana Nolan filled one corner of the television screen. He turned up the sound.

“Breaking news: Foul play is suspected in the apparent disappearance of NewsWatch 3’s own Dana Nolan,” the woman reported. “Police were dispatched to Dana Nolan’s Mi

Kovac could see the fear and panic building in the woman. Her eyes gleamed with tears. Her voice tightened and trembled as she spoke.

“Personal belongings found in the parking lot of the apartment building near Ms. Nolan’s abandoned vehicle seem to indicate she may have been taken against her will.”

The screen filled with the image of the missing reporter.

“Her most recent assignment has been covering the disappearance of Mi

“Please, please,” the woman implored, her tenuous hold on her emotions quickly eroding. “If anyone watching has any information at all, please call this number as soon as possible.

“Dana, if you’re somehow seeing this broadcast, please know that we’re all looking for you and praying for you to come home safe.”

The station went to commercial as the reporter broke down sobbing.

Kovac swore, grabbed his coat, and bolted for the door.

•   •   •

“WHY THE FUCK WASN’T I called the minute this came in?” Kovac snapped at the young detective who had caught the call. “I was right down the fucking hall!”

They stood in the parking lot of Dana Nolan’s apartment complex. The early morning darkness had been banished by portable lights from the crime scene unit, and from the half dozen news vans that had circled the scene like wagons in an old Western movie.

The detective—Dickson—barely looked old enough to have a job. Kovac had come out of the womb older than this kid. Still, the young detective tried to put up a tough front.

“Since when do we have to clear our calls through you? It’s not even your shift.”

“Oh. It’s not my shift?” Kovac thought his head might explode. Acutely aware of the cameras and microphones trained on them, he leaned in close. “It’s a fucking abduction, you fucking moron! I’ve got half the fucking department working an abduction/homicide that’s all over the goddamn news, and you think you don’t have to bother telling me? The fucking janitor would know enough to tell me! You’re a fucking idiot! And where’s your partner? He’s a fucking idiot too.”

One of the uniforms who had responded to the initial call intervened, wedging himself between the two detectives.

“Sarge, the newsies are getting restless. They’re asking for a statement.”