No One Heard Her Scream

'You take your coffee black, right?'

She jumped at the sound of his voice, an unsettling reaction. Lieutenant Santiago entered the office, holding two cups of coffee. The hot beverage would exacerbate the heat, but she could use the caffeine. Becca reached for the cup as he shut the door.

'Yes, sir.' She took a sip, breathing in the aroma from the steam. 'Thanks.'

'This office can be a bit stifling in the mornings, but I kind of like it.'

She drank in silence, waiting for him to start. Knowing the lieutenant, she wouldn't have to wait long.

'What happened? Is it true you've been bird-dogging Murphy's work, conducting your own investigation?'

Becca avoided his stare, looking down into her cup. A lumbering silence filled the space between them, interrupted by the steady beat of the clock. Tick, tick . . . The lieutenant knew the answer to his question. And she didn't feel the need to incriminate herself.

'We already talked about this, Rebecca. Your involvement complicates the case. You're too close to it.'

She looked up, narrowing her eyes.

'Maybe that's what the investigation needs, sir. A fresh set of eyes. Someone with a stake in this.' She set her coffee down on the corner of his desk and crossed her arms. 'Murphy is a good cop, but a real simple kind of guy. For him, thinking 'out of the box' is a radical concept, reserved for left-wing liberals, four-eyed geeks, and girlie-men.'

Santiago raised an eyebrow and wrestled with his lower lip to avoid smiling.

'So why'd you let him get to you?' The man zeroed in on the heart of the problem. 'You were ready to deck him.'

She shrugged. 'Seemed like a swell idea at the time.'

'Not good enough, Rebecca.' He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. 'Look, I know this has been rough on you, not being more involved in Danielle's case. I can't imagine how I'd feel if something happened to one of my kids.'

His face softened in empathy. 'Don't force me to stop you, Becca. My heart wouldn't be in it. But you gotta see, there's a bigger picture here. And I can't allow you to jeopardize this investigation.'

'But my sister's case is getting lost in the shuffle of these abductions, sir.' She pressed, her voice laden with emotion. 'I gotta speak for her. I don't see anyone else doin' it.'

His face settled into his usual stern expression.

'Need I remind you that the circumstances surrounding Danielle are a little different from the other two victims in this case? Yeah, all three lived here and were abducted from class outings across the country. But that's where the similarities end. Your sister left a trail after Padre Island, Becca.'

His raised voice merged with an abrasive creak in his chair. The sound made her skin scramble like hearing fingernails screech across a chalkboard. Lately, her nerves were raw, but her revulsion had more to do with what he said. And the lieutenant added insult to injury by harping on his version of the truth.

'Look, you gotta face facts. Dani used her credit card at two gas stations and a motel. And we had an eyewitness sighting and a video to back this up. It looks like she ran away from home and hooked up with the wrong people.'

An unreliable witness and one blurry video did not stack up to much in Becca's book. Even if the young girl in the videotape looked as if she wore Danielle's new clothes, identified by her sister's closest friends, it amounted to circumstantial evidence at best.

'But don't you see, Art? She'd never do that. Sure she had a rebellious streak, but what kid her age doesn't? Hell, you should've seen me.'

Becca bolted out of her chair and stalked toward his office window, holding back the anger welling deep in her belly. She'd heard this account before, and it always made her furious, but talking about Dani in the past tense gnawed at her gut like a cancer. It didn't feel right.

'You? A rebel? Hard to imagine,' he sniped.

'Sarcasm duly noted, but hear me out.' She turned to face him. 'I think someone stole her credit card and set up a bogus trail for us to follow. I think they wanted to throw us off what really happened to her.'

'And what's your theory on that?'

Tick, tick, tick . . . Becca hated to admit it. She was as clueless as Murphy on what happened to her sister.

At first, Danielle's disappearance looked like the random act of a stray predator. After interviewing Dani's friends and extracting the truth, investigators closed in on a local hot spot. Tire tracks, signs of a struggle, and spots of her sister's blood marked the crime scene. And the college kid she was supposed to meet? He had a damned, rock-solid alibi. So the search for Danielle began. Local law joined forces with a contingent from San Antonio to scour the neighborhood for witnesses. Reward posters and flyers went out. Volunteers and local pilots searched for signs of a body. Radio stations and television news teams blitzed the story. None of the efforts paid off.

In between a few promising leads, many hoaxes were investigated, draining the resources of the police. Eventually, evidence of her credit card use trickled in, the sightings leading the search away from Padre Island. The FBI was brought in when it looked like her trail crossed state lines. Then Becca's worst fear. A motel room splattered with blood—too much blood loss for anyone to survive. At first, she was in denial that the blood belonged to her sister. But the tests came back a match. Dani had died in a cheap motel room. No body found.

Two other abduction cases followed in different states, but with connections to San Antonio. And in the turn of a page, Dani's story became old news. The media moved on.

With Becca relegated to the status of family member, she'd been kept at arm's length from the investigation. Her pushing investigators and double-checking leads had alienated her from the insiders to the case. Censored verbal reports gave her limited information, so she'd resorted to stealing peeks at Murphy's case book. Now that looked like a dead end. The word 'powerless' didn't begin to describe how she felt.

And looking into the eyes of her despondent mother on the day they buried Danielle's empty coffin cast Becca into a new brand of hell. A part of her died that day.

'I don't have any theories, not yet.' Becca slumped against the window frame. 'But if Dani's case is so different from the others, maybe I can conduct my own—'

'You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?' Lieutenant Santiago clenched his jaw, a familiar gesture. 'Sit. Now.'

His command gave no room for interpretation. This was not an invitation to be declined. Becca heaved a sigh and trudged back to her seat, mustering a rebellious slouch.

'The FBI smells the work of a human trafficking ring with connections to San Antonio. And like flies to a pile of horseshit, they're buzzing over my jurisdiction. I don't need to tell you how that makes me feel. Pompous bastards.' He furrowed his brow. 'With you poking your nose into this, the feds have already raised their objections. Your link to Danielle could pose a problem for the prosecution if they find a connection, especially if a defense attorney gets wind of your involvement with evidence gathering. Do you want that?'

'I don't care about any damned court case, sir. I want justice for Dani.'

'And that's the problem. Don't make me out to be the bad guy here. If there's some nut bag abducting and killing young women, it's my job—and yours— to put 'em away.' A sad expression etched his face. 'Don't make me force you to take time off. You and I both know how you'd spend it. I'd rather keep an eye on you myself.'

With his brow furrowed, he leaned across the desk, concern overshadowing his personal disappointment. She owed Lieutenant Santiago so much. The man had been a mentor to her. Interfering in Danielle's case had been a flagrant betrayal of his trust and contrary to her sense of responsibility as a cop. Still, she had no choice. Straightening up in her chair, she waited to hear his version of a compromise.

'Before you hit the showers, get with dispatch. They got a call about skeletal remains found at the old Imperial Theatre, the one that just burned down. For now, I'm assigning you to the Cold Case Squad to handle it. On temporary loan.'

'Is this an order, L.T.?'

'Does it need to be?' He matched her tone, ramped up the attitude. He'd lost his patience with the caring father routine. 'Look, you've got a chance to give someone else closure here. And you must know how important that is. The pile of bones at the Imperial used to be someone's family. You do your job, I'll do what I can to keep