But if both her boss and the head of the Crimes Against Persons unit were ganging up on her, getting out of the assignment would require finesse.

Brain firing on all cylinders, St. Louis County detective Cate Reilly crossed her legs, clenched her hands together in her lap, and surveyed the sergeant behind the desk—and the lieutenant seated beside her. Five seconds. That was all she needed to formulate a diplomatic, persuasive refusal.

Sarge didn’t give them to her.

“We’re aware you prefer not to do more undercover work, Cate. It’s not for everyone, and we appreciate you giving it a try this year.” He rested his forearms on his desk and linked his fingers. “But this is a . . . unique . . . situation, so I’d ask you to hear us out. Lieutenant?”

The commander of the unit picked up the cue. “It goes without saying that what we discuss here stays here, no matter how this meeting ends.” He locked gazes with her.

“Of course.” After ten years with the St. Louis County PD, she knew when to zip her lips.

He gave a curt nod. “Two months ago, Gabe Laurent’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Stephanie, disappeared from a private girls’ boarding school in the far western portion of our jurisdiction, along the Missouri River. You know who Laurent is, I assume.”

“Yes.” In an era when badge holders were often painted as the bad guys, every County PD employee was aware of the software executive’s staunch—and vocal—commitment to law enforcement. “Why haven’t I heard about the girl’s disappearance?”

“We were keeping it under wraps until we determined whether it was the runaway situation it appeared to be. Only the detectives assigned to the case were privy to the details.”

“Was it a runaway?”

The lieutenant shifted in his seat. “That was our conclusion. All the pieces fit. Her backpack was gone. Her boyfriend also went missing—as did his backpack and car. Everyone our people spoke with agreed she was troubled and unhappy. That’s why her father sent her to Ivy Hill Academy. He didn’t like the crowd she was running with—or her boyfriend, slipping grades, and attitude. In addition to being a prestigious all-girl college-prep school with high academic standards, Ivy Hill is known for its rigid discipline.”

“Is the investigation still active?”

Sarge leaned back in his chair. “We’ve been keeping an eye out for her, but it hasn’t been our highest priority.”

No, it wouldn’t be.

Teen runaways were disturbing, but the County’s heavy homicide caseload and other serious crime investigations took precedence. The detectives were already stretched thin, and the long hours couldn’t expand much more without significant fallout—like a major decline in morale or a mass exodus.

“So why are we talking about it now?”

The lieutenant rejoined the conversation. “We’ve been asked to dig deeper.”

“By whom?”