It was still too early to hear from Phoenix, with the time difference. Although he expected a call soon, he didn’t think that case would give him new inroads on the Denning case. He’d already checked with the Missing Persons Department here and in the Baton Rouge PD, just to make sure the ball was rolling on the missing Denning girls.

Though Brianna Hayward had already called the local hospitals, the department had reached out to emergency rooms in New Orleans as well as Baton Rouge, verifying that neither twin had been admitted. Credit card companies and cell phone providers were supplying records, and anyone who had contact with the twins was being questioned. A team was going back to the dorm room to go over them with a fine-tooth comb and search for clues leading to the sisters’ whereabouts. The friends whom the girls were supposed to meet up with on the night of their birthdays were being interviewed, and social media platforms were being scrutinized.

Bentz had sent officers to the Bourbon Street bars in the area where that last photograph posted on the Internet had been taken.

Now, staring at his computer, he was looking at that photograph on Zoe’s Facebook page, where it had been posted about fifteen minutes before their phones had gone dark.

Was the 21 Killer responsible?

Maybe. Most likely not.

But something had happened to those girls, and he was determined to find out what it was. With the information Selma Denning and Brianna Hayward had provided, he was retracing some of the girls’ steps, yes, but they would have to dig deeper into their personal lives. One of the next steps would be to collect samples of their DNA, possibly hair from the girls’ brushes, follicles intact, or cigarette butts if they smoked, anything that could positively ID them. He would also pull dental records, in the event they were dealing with a worst-case scenario.

His phone rang. When he saw the caller was his older daughter, he felt warmth invade his chest. He always had a minute or two to talk to her. “What’s up?” he asked, and glanced at the picture on his desk. With bright green eyes, auburn hair, and a sizzling smile, Kristi reminded him far too much of his first wife, Jennifer.

“Hey! Look, I just got off the phone with Olivia, and she tried to convince me to talk to you about retiring.”

“The female forces unite.”

“Not exactly,” she said, and he was certain he heard traffic noise in the background.

“Are you driving?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got an earbud, Dad. Hands free. So I’m safe, but don’t duck the question. Are you really quitting? Seriously?”

If nothing else, his eldest had always been forthright.

“Livvie and I, we’re discussing it. You know that.”