To do that, he’d have to locate her father.
Now there was a mystery.
He’d presented Agent Lakes with photographs of every Mitch or Mitchell Taylor in the Seattle area with no luck. He’d even expanded that search to statewide, but Lakes said none of the men looked anything like the guy he’d encountered on Agent Taylor’s doorstep.
Vehicle registration records didn’t turn up a red Porsche registered to a Mitch Taylor anywhere in the state.
His gut told him Mitch Taylor was one shady dude. Just like it told him that Kevyn Taylor wasn’t as innocent as she claimed to be.
In his thirty years with the bureau, his instincts had rarely steered him wrong.
They wouldn’t this time, either. He was sure of it.
All he had to do was find the evidence that would rid the FBI of a bad apple like Taylor.
He wouldn’t rest until he found it.
₪ ₪ ₪
The mirrored glass front of the Seattle Pacific Hearing and Speech Services office tossed Kevyn’s reflection back at her.
Ugh. That restless night sure hadn’t done her any favors.
Her face looked old and drawn and the bags under her eyes would put any raccoon to shame.
She needed a vacation. Away from OPR and absentee fathers and missing politicians’ sons.
Not happening. At least not for the foreseeable future.
Pulling open the door, she stepped inside and away from the visual reminder of how stressful life had become in the last twenty-four hours.
An Asian man with well-gelled hair looked up from behind the reception plexiglass as she entered, a pleasant smile lightening his face. He waited for her to approach before greeting her.
“Welcome to Seattle Pacific. With whom is your appointment?” Each word, carefully pronounced and enunciated, made her think this man, who couldn’t be any older than twenty-five, had learned English as a second language.
“Actually, I’d like to speak with your office manager.” She displayed her badge.
His thick-lashed eyes studied it for a second before returning to her. “That would be Lexi. Allow me to see if she is available. Excuse me.”
He pushed back from the desk and rose lithely, his movements fluid and graceful.
While she waited, she surveyed the reception area.
Two patients sat at opposite ends of the room. One flipped mindlessly through a magazine, whipping pages too quickly to really be taking anything in. The other scrolled through something on her phone.
The television mounted on the wall opposite the reception area was tuned to a national news program, the closed captioning scrolling across the bottom as the anchors discussed the latest political scandal.
She turned back to the reception desk in time to see the Asian man exit an office and approach.
“Lexi will be with you momentarily.” The man drifted back into his chair, although his attention never left her. “You are welcome to have a seat while you wait. It should not be longer than a few minutes.”
“Thank you.” She made no move to take a seat, though.
The receptionist might be a good source of information. What was the best way to engage him in conversation?
An insignia on his ring caught her attention. “What a great ring. Is that a family crest?”
His black eyebrows jumped. “You are observant. Yes, this is my family Kamon.”
“That’s rockin’.”
She listened as he explained some symbols, highlighting accomplishments by a few of his ancestors. When he finished, pride radiated from his smile.
“What a great legacy.” She dipped her head slightly. “You honor them by remembering.”
He puffed out his lean chest. “I will bring them greater honor with my training. I am attending UW to be a doctor. I want to return to Japan to help remote villages. My family immigrated here when I was a teen, but my heart longs for my homeland.”
“I’m sure you’ll do amazing things.” She made a show of looking around the office. “Are you studying speech or hearing? Or is this just a place to work while you get your degree?”
“I am studying infectious diseases.” He assessed the office around them as though seeing it for the first time. “This is a good job and gives me practical experience in the medical field, even if it is not my specialty.”
He glanced behind him at the still-closed office door. “I am sorry. I do not know what is taking so long.”
Kevyn shrugged as though she didn’t have two missing persons relying upon her and her team to find them. “It’s okay. Actually, maybe you can help me. Do you know Wes Andrews?”
“Of course. We are a large practice, but I know all our providers.”
The phone rang, interrupting the conversation.
Now that she’d gotten him talking, how did she want to proceed? Tell him about Andrews’ abduction? Or try to get information without revealing why she was asking?
After scheduling an appointment, he hung up the phone and returned his attention to her. “What did you need to know about Wes?”
He didn’t ask if Wes had done something wrong. Interesting. Often when she asked someone about a victim or suspect, one of the first questions was what that person had done or if the person was in trouble.
Could mean that Wes was a stand-up kind of guy. Or it could mean that this guy believed the best about people, including Wes.
Either way, the genuine question deserved an honest answer. “He was abducted late yesterday.”
She let the words settle without further explanation.
The man stared at her. Blinked.
“Abducted?” The question came out slowly, as if he were uncertain of the meaning of the word.
She got it. This guy had seen Wes yesterday, probably told him he’d see him tomorrow, and was now being told he might not ever see him again. Regardless of whether
