Laura Scott - Proof of Life

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SUSPECT: MISSING SISTER CSI investigator Shanna Dawson has never forgiven herself for the long-ago disappearance of her little sister, Skylar. For fourteen years there have been no leads—or proof of life. Until now. Until Skylar’sfi ngerprints implicate her in a murder at a fraternity house. Shanna is desperate to find the young woman. And so is handsome campus cop Quinn Murphy—the victim’s half brother.But as their team investigation leads to an unexpected closeness and the revelation of family secrets, Shanna prays that her sister is innocent. And that the real killer is caught before Quinn is hurt, or Skylar is lost forever.

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“The admissions office,” she agreed. “Al? If you find anything else, please let me know.”

“I will.” The older scientist gazed at her with true concern. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

A slight smile flitted around her mouth. “Thanks. Let Eric know I’ll be in touch later.”

Clearly, Shanna was close to Al, and he found himself wondering about her family as they walked back outside to his SUV. She’d mentioned her mother, but not her father. “This news is really going to shock your family, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she murmured, sliding into the passenger seat as he climbed in behind the wheel. “My mother always clung to the belief Skylar was alive, but my dad refused to even talk about her. My parents divorced a few years after Skylar’s kidnapping, mostly because of my dad.”

His heart squeezed in sympathy. “I know what it’s like to come from a broken home.”

“Maybe, but at least you know the breakup wasn’t your fault.” The faint bitterness in her tone surprised him.

Her fault? He shot her a quick glance. “Shanna, I’m sure your parents didn’t blame you.”

Her gaze was bleak. “Yes, they did. Because it was true. Skylar’s kidnapping was my fault.” She turned away, staring out the window. “You were right to hold off on telling my mother. I want to find my sister first. I can’t bear to raise her hopes for no reason.”

He reached over to take her hand in his. “Maybe looking through the student IDs will help.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “I need to be able to give my mother that much.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. His cell phone rang, and he juggled the steering wheel, going against state law by answering it. “Hello?”

“Quinn?” His mother’s shrill voice echoed in his ear. “Where are you?”

“I’m following up on some leads from Brady’s case,” he told her, trying to ignore that she hadn’t bothered asking how he was doing. His mother tended to live in a world that was centered on herself and her second family. Not the mistake of her first marriage. “What’s wrong? Are you and James doing all right?”

“It’s been awful to sit here not knowing anything. We’ve been waiting for you to bring us some news.” Her tone was full of reproach.

“I wish I had some news to bring you, but I don’t.” He maneuvered the car around a turn with one hand, refraining from reminding her that Brady had been dead for just a little more than twenty-four hours. “Look, Mom, I have to go. I’m driving. After I go through the list of kids who were at Brady’s party, I’ll be in touch.”

“Call us the minute you find anything. We have an appointment at the funeral home this evening, but we don’t know when they’re going to release Brady’s body.” Her tone grew thick with suppressed tears.

Guilt swirled as he realized he should be making the funeral arrangements for her. “I’ll help you with the arrangements, Mom. I’ll find out when they’re going to release Brady’s body, and I’ll meet you at the funeral home when I finish here.”

“All right. I’ll let James know the plan.” His mother hung up. Fighting a surge of helplessness that he couldn’t do more, Quinn flipped his phone shut.

“I can look through the photo IDs myself,” Shanna offered in a low tone. “Sounds as if you have a lot to do at home.”

Selfishly, he didn’t want to leave Shanna. Not yet. Not until he knew whether or not she’d recognized any of the photo IDs as potentially belonging to her sister.

“I have time. Let’s go through the pictures first, see if anyone looks even vaguely familiar. For now we’ll use whatever aged photo your mom has posted on the missing children website.”

“Sounds good.”

Quinn parked in a no-parking zone, using his campus police tag to identify his car, and walked inside the main registration office with Shanna at his side. It was busy for a Monday, but within moments they were granted access to the library and the database where the computer records of all the college students’ information and photos were kept.

“Here’s the list of partygoers,” Quinn said, pushing the list in front of her. At least half the attendees were female. “Let’s start with these first.”

She nodded, and he typed in the first name on the computer. After a few seconds, the photograph popped up on the screen. Shanna stared at the image so long, he cast a concerned glance her way. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Shanna slowly shook her head. “It’s just that other than Skylar’s brown eyes, I don’t even know what to look for. Her hair could be any length, any color.”

“Brown eyes?” He raised a brow, peering at her. No contacts that he could see. “Yours are blue.”

“Yeah. Skylar takes after my dad. He has brown eyes. Mine and my mom’s are blue.”

“I see. We could narrow the search function to just those girls with brown eyes.”

“No.” She put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “I’d like to see them all, if you don’t mind.”

He hesitated, but then nodded. His time constraints weren’t hers. After all these years, Shanna deserved at least a couple of hours to get through the list. “Okay.”

One by one, she paged through the list of girls who’d been identified as attending the party. A few times she toggled back and forth between the picture of how Skylar might look now and the actual student photo, but in the end she sat back, slowly shaking her head.

“None of them look familiar.” Her dejected tone made him empathize with what she must be going through. “I thought …” She didn’t finish.

“Hey, we’ve only gone through the party list. There are thousands of other female student pictures to get through.” He didn’t have time to get through the rest now, but he could come back later, after the visit to the funeral home.

“Maybe.” Shanna lifted her tortured gaze. “Looking at these pictures is harder than I thought. I should recognize her. My own sister. The image should jump out at me, don’t you think?”

“Try to relax,” he soothed. “We still have time—”

“No! You don’t understand! It’s already been fourteen years. I have to find her, Quinn. I have to!”

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