A Darkening Stain. Robert Thomas Wilson

ran away from home because of abuse.”

      Evelyn gaped at Sophia. “I didn’t see anything about that in the case file. Did you investigate that possibility?”

      Sophia dumped her coffee down the sink, muttering under her breath, then said, louder, “Of course. And it is in the file. You probably haven’t gotten to Bill Cooke’s interview yet. But I haven’t found anything to substantiate his claim. If anything, I’m seeing signs Bill was abusive and that’s why the parents divorced.”

      “How long ago?”

      “The divorce? About three years. Right before Haley started high school.”

      “Okay. What about the stepfather? Any possibility of abuse there?”

      “Well, technically, Bill was blaming Pete all along,” Sophia said. “But we looked into Linda, too. And we didn’t find anything at all. Although quite frankly, I’m not so impressed with Linda’s husband. He’s—” Sophia seemed to be searching for a word, then finally settled on “—cagey. I’m not seeing evidence of abuse. Doesn’t mean there isn’t any, as I’m sure you know. But as far as Bill’s claims go, they seem to be intended to hurt Linda more than help Haley.”

      Evelyn got ready to ask more, but Sophia preempted her. “Look, the divorce was ugly. Really ugly. There was a custody battle and Bill lost big-time. Haley was old enough to have a say, and she wanted nothing to do with him. Haley never went as far as to say there was abuse, at least not in the court documents I dug up, but Linda got primary custody. Bill got a few weekends a year. From what I can tell, his time was usually cut short.”

      “By who?” Evelyn pressed.

      “According to Linda, that was Haley’s choice. But given the animosity there...” She shrugged.

      “So, this could be a custody issue,” Evelyn suggested. “Maybe Bill grabbed Haley, and he’s claiming abuse by the mother’s new husband to deflect attention.”

      “It’s a possibility,” Sophia said. “But if he grabbed her, where is she? We’ve interviewed Bill Cooke, several times. He lives in a little brownstone in DC. He won’t let us in, but he’s got almost no yard. The houses there are close together. I’ve talked to his neighbors, and they can tell me what he watches on TV at night. It would be pretty hard to hide a seventeen-year-old in there, especially one who’s been on the news as much as Haley, and particularly if she didn’t want to be there. If he took her, wouldn’t he have gone into hiding?”

      “Maybe he’s waiting for the search to die down before he moves her,” Evelyn said.

      “That might work with a four-year-old,” Quincy spoke up.

      His deep voice startled Evelyn. Even though he’d planted his large frame in the middle of the room, he’d been so quiet she’d nearly forgotten he was there.

      “But hiding a seventeen-year-old is a little trickier,” he continued. “I agree—he’d have a hard time keeping her there if she didn’t want to stay.”

      “I know it’s a long shot,” Evelyn said. “But we need to look into it, especially in a case where there was a hostile dispute over custody. And with Haley turning eighteen in less than a year, maybe Bill Cooke figured this was his last chance, especially if Haley was threatening to cut him out of her life entirely.”

      Sophia nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s true. I don’t really like Bill Cooke for this, but honestly, I don’t really like Bill Cooke at all. I wouldn’t be surprised that if we do discover there was any abuse happening, he’s at the center of it.”

      “Okay,” Evelyn said. “Let me finish reading through the case files. Because all I can give you now is about Haley.”

      “A victim profile?” Sophia asked. “Tell me.”

      “Well, the key thing here is that Haley is very high risk for whoever took her. And the location and timing was high risk, too. He—or she—had to be certain he could pull it off.”

      Sophia nodded. “Someone close to her.”

      “Someone Haley trusted,” Evelyn said. “Because either she walked out of that school with her abductor, or she let him get close enough to subdue her without screaming.”

      “Maybe she expected the person,” Quincy suggested. “Or there was more than one of them and they overpowered her.”

      “Both are possible,” Evelyn agreed, “but remember, no one heard her yell for help, or any kind of struggle. So as soon as I finish reading this case file, I want to meet all the people in Haley’s life. Anyone who could have grabbed her, or might have insight into why she thought her life was in danger.”

      * * *

      “Bill Cooke?”

      The man scowling at her from behind a screen door might have had a strong resemblance to his daughter at one time. Blond hair, now receding back to the middle of his head, faded blue eyes, heavy lines alongside his mouth that suggested once he’d had reason to smile a lot. Now, from the top of his balding head to the bottom of his muddied boots, everything about him screamed “angry.”

      “Yeah.” Bill glanced from Evelyn to Sophia as they stood cramped together on the small stoop in front of his house. “What now? You haven’t found her, have you?”

      “Don’t you want us to?” Evelyn asked, surprised by the tone of the question.

      Bill stepped back, held the door open. “Maybe she’s better off if you don’t. I’m telling you, Haley ran away. Linda’s looking for attention, but my daughter was just trying to escape.”

      “You think she ran away?” Evelyn prompted as she slid sideways past Bill and stepped through the doorway, taking in the tidy entryway tracked through with fresh mud.

      They didn’t have any snow, but the ground was still near frozen. Where had Bill Cooke gone to get mud all over his boots?

      “Yeah, and I’ve told that to Detective Lopez here a hundred times. Who are you? New to the police force? Don’t you people share your notes? No wonder you can’t find Haley.”

      Ignoring the dig, Evelyn held out a hand as Bill stepped farther back. Sophia joined them inside, closing the heavier door behind them and shutting out the fierce wind. It may have been unusually warm over the past month, but it was still January.

      “Special Agent Evelyn Baine. I’m consulting from the FBI on your daughter’s case.”

      Instead of shaking her hand, Bill wrapped two work-roughened hands around hers and squeezed; she tried to remember what he did for a living.

      “I appreciate the thought, Agent Baine. But my daughter is fine.”

      “Have you heard from her?” Sophia asked, stepping forward slowly, and making Bill drop Evelyn’s hand and move back. Instinct when someone stepped into your personal space, and a smart way for Sophia to get farther into the house.

      She’d told Evelyn that he’d never invited her inside before, instead always insisting on meeting at the police station. Evelyn had wanted to do this interview spontaneously, hoping it would change things, but she was still surprised he’d invited them in so easily. If he’d ever had Haley hidden here, it suggested he didn’t now.

      “No, I haven’t heard from my daughter. And I doubt I will. At least not until she’s eighteen and she can finally be free of her mother and Linda’s new husband.” He spat out “husband” as if it was a dirty word.

      Sophia stepped forward again, but this time, Bill didn’t move, just crossed his arms and stared back at her. The aggression in his eyes was barely concealed by the exasperation.

      “Why are you so convinced she ran away?”

      “We’ve been through this. Haley hated living in that house. Linda’s new husband is a real jerk. He resents having to deal with a teenager, treated