CA 50.7 Little Girl Lost Read Online Free PDF

this Wallace Institute just like he said and they're like Sophie."
    "By 'like Sophie,' I assume you mean autistic?”
    Jen nodded. "Remember we suspected she was. All the testing wasn't complete but even her pediatrician felt she might be."
    "And you believe the tests put her on the radar of this radical or fanatical research group?"
    "That's what he told me." She shrugged. "What else could it have been?"
    "Jen." Paul struggled to keep his voice calm. "I want you to think about how this sounds. I've seen bad movies with a better plot."
    "I thought the same thing at first," she admitted. "But then I did my research. The six families he told me about all lost an autistic child the same year we did. All the children just disappeared. And the police found nothing. Not a single clue to this day."
    Now she had his attention. "Your source could have found that same information in his own search. He could be using coincidence to lure you into some sort of trap." The idea that some bastard would do this made him want to tear something apart. But what would be the motive? And why lure in someone like Jen from all the way across the country? Unless, of course, her searching put her on this guy's radar.
    She stood. "I don't have access to an age-progression specialist, but I'm not blind to the similarities. This can't be coincidence." Jen returned to the cupboard and then came back to sit in front of him with a stack of photos and folded up pages she'd printed from the computer and, obviously, stashed in her coffee can.
    "These are the photos he gave me." She passed him the small stack. "I saw all six of those children as well as our daughter today."
    Paul shuffled through the photos, then waited for her to continue.
    "These are the photos I found on the internet of the families who lost their autistic children that year. See." She put a corresponding recent photo of the child with the printed image from seven years ago. "There are similarities beyond coloring. The jawlines, the noses. Some look undeniably like one parent or the other."
    He couldn't refute her assessment. She was right. He rested his gaze on hers. "Where is this contact now?"
    She shook her head. "I don't know. After he got me an alias and the interview at the institute, he disappeared."
    "He set up an alias for you?"
    She nodded. "ID, everything."
    What the hell was going on here? He leaned forward so that she couldn't miss the urgency in his eyes or his voice. "I need you to start at the beginning once more. Take your time, Jenna, and tell me everything."
    Chapter Four
    Hogan's Diner, 8:17 p.m.
    He'd gotten her to eat, that was a step in the right direction. She'd given him the story from the beginning with a timeline and, most importantly, names and descriptions.
    Paul had sent a text to Ian Michaels, the second in command at the Colby Agency, to see what he could find out about this Reginald Waters, Jen's seemingly benevolent benefactor, and Dr. Stuart Hancock, the Wallace Institute administrator.
    She sipped her iced tea, her dark eyes searching his, before asking, "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
    God Almighty. How did he make her understand he cared more for her than any words would convey? He understood that awful place she was in and wanted to help her more than he wanted to draw in his next breath. He did not for one second believe she was crazy. Desperate, devastated, yeah. But not crazy.
    "Jen, I know you're not." The diner was far from crowded and the booth they'd chosen gave a bit of privacy, so a frank conversation was possible. Still, he couldn't help glancing around before he continued. "I think someone, this Waters character for one, has an agenda that maybe isn't as simple or as pure as you'd like to believe."
    She moved her head side to side, frustration setting her lips in a grim line. "I knew you'd see it that way. All those years in Homeland Security jaded you, Paul. You don't see the good anymore, only the bad or the potentially bad." Her gaze