“Five years back, two FWS agents disappeared. One worked out of my office, the other was in North Carolina on temporary assignment.”

“Tel me about them.” I felt a shiver of excitement ripple down my spine.

Zamzow drew a photo from a shirt pocket and laid it on my desk. In it, a young man leaned against a stone bridge. His arms were folded and he was smiling. On his shirt I could see the same badge and shoulder patch that Zamzow was wearing.

I flipped the picture.Brian Aiker, Raleigh, 9/27/1998had been handwritten on the back.

“The agent’s name was Brian Aiker,” Zamzow said.

“Age?” I asked.

“Thirty-two. Aiker had been with us three years when he went missing. Nice fel ow.”

“Height?”

“Tal guy. I’d say six-one, six-two.”

“He was white,” I said, flipping back to the front of the photo.

“Yeah.”

“And the visiting agent?”

“Charlotte Grant Cobb. Odd duck, but a good officer. Cobb was with the service more than ten years.”

“Do you have a picture?”

Zamzow shook his head. “Cobb didn’t like being photographed. But I can request her file if you think it’s warranted. The service has a photo ID of every agent.”

“Cobb is female?”

“Yeah. White, I’d say mid-thirties.”

“What was she working?”

“Operation FDR. Sea turtles.”

“FDR?”

Zamzow shrugged one shoulder. “Franklin wore a lot of turtlenecks. I didn’t pick the label. Anyway, think your unknown could be Aiker or Cobb?”

“Cobb’s out. DNA from the Lancaster bones came up male. But there could be a link. Was Aiker working the sting with Cobb?”

“Not official y, though I know he spent time with her.”

“Tel me what happened.”

“Not much to tel . Six, seven years ago we were tipped about poachers trucking turtles up to Charlotte from the coast, transferring them on to buyers in New York and D.C. Service sent Cobb to try to infiltrate the ring. Figured a female might get inside quicker.”

“How?”

“The usual. Cobb was hanging around places the suspects frequented. Bars, restaurants, some gym.”

“She was living in Charlotte?”

“Had an apartment. One of those month-to-month deals.”

“How was it going?”

“No idea. Cobb didn’t report to me.” Zamzow snorted. “And the lady wasn’t what you’d cal the social type. When she was in Raleigh, Cobb pretty much kept to herself. Guess it’s tough being under-cover in this business.”

“Or being female.”

“Could be.”

“Did Cobb and Aiker disappear at the same time?”

“Aiker failed to show up one Monday in December. I remember. It was cold as hel . We phoned for two days, eventual y busted into his apartment. No sign of him.”

Zamzow looked as though he hadn’t spoken of Aiker in a long time, but had returned to the man many times in his thoughts.