Rowan headed straight for the bookshelf where colorful paperbacks weighed down the shelves along with many framed pictures of an adorable black-haired girl with beautiful brown eyes.
Alexa Maxwell took his breath away. His lips curved. She took after her aunt. Rowan did the same thing to him. Yep, he was a sap, all right. But a man would have to have a heart of stone not to be mush inside at the sight of this little one.
Rowan reached for a picture of Alexa in a white dress with a yellow hat perched on her head. The girl’s eyes appeared to sparkle with happiness. Might just be a trick of the photographer’s lighting. Brent hoped that wasn’t the case. “This is the latest picture. Will this work?”
“Oh, yeah.” Taylor took the picture from the frame. “I’ll make sure the picture is returned. I need to make copies. Do you know what outfit Alexa was wearing today?”
“Maybe. One thing I’ll say about her father. The man doesn’t mind spending money on his daughter. That girl has more clothes than Heather and I do put together.” Rowan bit her lower lip. “I’ll have to go back into Alexa’s room.”
Brent wanted to protest, knew that he couldn’t if Rowan’s discomfort would give him and Taylor another lead to find Alexa. No way was he leaving the investigation up to Metro’s finest. They were overworked and understaffed, and their equipment didn’t hold a candle to what he used at Fortress.
The detective held out a pair of rubber gloves. “Put these on in case the person who took Alexa left prints.”
Rowan did as directed and retraced her steps to Alexa’s room. She headed to the dresser and began riffling through the contents of the drawers. Next, she avoided the pool of blood on the way to the closet.
The closet was as large as the one in his bedroom, Brent mused. Hardly necessary for a six-year-old. No doubt she would need that much space and more when she was a teenager.
A minute later, she returned. “Alexa is wearing pink overalls and a white shirt with pink trim and white tennis shoes.”
Brent stared. “She has more clothes than a department store in this room. How do you know what she’s wearing?”
“I gave her the outfit. It’s her favorite and it’s missing from the closet. And before you ask, I also checked the clothes hamper. The outfit isn’t here.”
Simmons returned, a grim look on his face. “I can’t find the girl, Detective. There’s no sign of her.”
“Thanks. Go help Blanchard with crowd control.” Taylor turned back to Rowan. “I need contact information for Jay Maxwell.” When she provided the information, the detective used his cell phone to call Maxwell. “No answer. Does he usually ignore phone calls?”
“I have no idea.” Rowan shuddered. “I don’t contact him for anything.”
Anger simmered inside Brent. He was definitely going to have a talk with this guy. No woman should be afraid.
“Will Fortress help?” Taylor asked Brent.
“Count on it. What do you need?”
“Have one of the tech geeks ping Maxwell’s phone. Let’s see where this guy is. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find Alexa with him.”
Brent released Rowan and grabbed his phone. He called the direct number for the comm center, placing the call on speaker phone, and was relieved to find Zane was still on duty.
“Murphy.”
“Z, I need you to ping a cell phone.”
Over the phone’s speaker, he heard the tapping of computer keys. “What’s going on, boss?”
“Possible child kidnapping.”
“Name of the vic?”
“Alexa Maxwell. She’s six. Black hair, brown eyes, looks like the poster child for cherubs.”
“Clothes?”
He described Alexa’s coordinated pink outfit.
“Where are you and what number am I pinging?” Once Brent supplied the information, Zane said, “Are we on the case alone or has the FBI been called in?”
Brent scowled at the thought of the alphabet agencies. “Right now, Taylor is working the case. Guess he’ll have to call in the feds soon.”
Taylor winced, then gave a short nod. “After we locate and question Maxwell. Don’t want to call in the feds on a domestic unless he’s kidnapped his own child. Hurry, Zane. Alexa is not in the house. I want a location on the father before I call in the feds.”
“Hold.” More keys clicking. “The signal shows the phone at your location, Taylor.”
“Can you pinpoint where?”
“Nope. System’s not that good.”
Brent considered his options. “Is the satellite in the right position to do an infrared scan?”
A pause, then, “We’re in luck. What am I looking for?”
“A small form lying down or huddled somewhere in the house or nearby.”
“Give me a minute.”
“You have access to a satellite?” Rowan asked.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Zane. Who are you?”
“Rowan Scott.”
“Nice to talk to you, Rowan. Would you be the famous Coffee House Rowan?”
Brent’s cheeks heated. Looked like Claire would be a widow soon because he planned to kill his longtime friend. “Shut up, Murphy.”
A chuckle came over the speaker. “Yes, sir. Satellite images are up. Lots of activity around the house and neighborhood. Looks like you have a cop or two searching the house, Taylor. No small forms. From what I can see, Alexa is not in the residence or hiding outside. I don’t know anything about kids, but is it possible she wandered away? If so, how far can she walk?”
“Alexa’s mother said someone took her daughter.”
“I was afraid of that. What else can I do to help, boss?”
“Tap into the security system. See if you can get a picture of the person who took Alexa.”
“Copy that. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find something we can use.”
“Can he really hack into the security system?” Rowan asked, her eyes wide.
Brent’s lips twitched. “Zane is a man of many diverse talents, but he is a first rate hacker. He should have results for us soon.” He glanced at Taylor. “Doubt Maxwell would leave his phone here unless he didn’t want to be tracked by it.”
“Agreed.
