A girl with red hair.
The print fell from her fingers, but then Noelle dove forward. Her light shined on all of those snapshots.
Red-haired girls. Teens. Bound. Blindfolded.
“Noelle!” Thomas’s fingers curled around her, and he yanked her to her feet.
But it was too late. Because she’d just found another photograph, only this photograph was familiar.
“That’s me,” she whispered as she stared down at her picture.
Like the other girls, she was blindfolded and tied to a chair.
That image... Dear God, had been taken fifteen years ago, during the two lost days of her life.
* * *
“THERE ARE TEN different girls in these pictures.” No emotion entered Noelle’s voice, and it was that complete lack of emotion that worried Thomas the most.
They were back at the sheriff’s station. It was long past midnight, and Noelle—she’d pinned all of the photos to the wall in their makeshift office. Those images had already been faxed to the EOD. But...
“Are you okay?”
She flinched at the question, and instead of answering, she said, “They’re all about the same age. Sixteen or seventeen, females, with red hair—”
His fingers curled around her shoulders and he turned her, forcing her to face him. “Are. You. Okay?”
Her pupils were too big. Her face too pale.
“We have to operate under the assumption the photos are—are trophies that Senator Lawrence kept close because he wanted to relive the abductions—”
“Noelle, you’re in the damn photo!”
Her gaze fell to his throat. He saw her swallow. “We always knew that a second man had to be involved in my abduction.” Her voice still had no emotion. “I was tied up, so I couldn’t have been the one to kill him. Someone else was there the whole time.” Slowly, her lashes lifted. “It’s possible Senator Lawrence was that someone.”
No, it wasn’t.
“This is the first lead I’ve ever had.” Her lower lip trembled, but she caught it between her teeth. After a moment, Noelle said, “This is my life, and the man who could’ve told me the truth is dead.”
Thomas wasn’t exactly mourning the guy.
She pulled in a deep breath. “The EOD is searching Missing Persons databases now, using image-recognition software, but this—this isn’t the usual type of case for Mercer’s team.”
No, it wasn’t.
“The FBI should be investigating, and Sheriff Hodges, he thinks he’s got the FBI.” She shook her head. “We have to call them in. The real FBI. If any of those girls are still alive—”
“Do you think they are?”
Because he was watching her so closely, Thomas saw her eyelids flicker.
No, she doesn’t.
“Tell me why killers keep trophies,” Thomas demanded. Because, yes, he knew exactly what those images were.
“To remind them of the crimes.”
“Cadaver dogs are on the way.” He’d been pulling some strings of his own while she worked to identify the victims. “There might be more than just photographs buried in that old shed.” There had been no floor there. Just earth...