Bentz turned back to his computer monitor and clicked on the Play arrow. He was viewing the security footage shot at the parking lot near Bourbon Street, where a camera had caught a tall man, his face hidden, arguing, then subduing a shorter female and forcing her into the back of his van, a white Dodge it looked like. The lab had enhanced the videotape and printed individual photographs from its frame. Although the man’s face was turned away, Bentz could have sworn he looked familiar. As for the victim, he had only to view the last picture taken of Zoe and Chloe Denning to know that the girl on the video was one of the twins. Which one, he couldn’t be certain, but since the tape was in black-and-white, he guessed that he was looking at Chloe, as the victim’s dress didn’t appear to be dark enough to be black.

The edge of the license plate was visible. Louisiana plate. A bit of a pelican and the starting letters KF, but that was all.

Not much, but something. He’d already called the DMV and was searching records. Once he had a list of potential vehicles, he’d double-check to make certain the girls didn’t know any of the registered owners. A long shot. But, again, better than nothing.

When his phone rang, he picked up without checking caller ID. “Detective Bentz.”

“This is Detective Phillipa Osgoode from the Phoenix PD.” The woman’s voice was all business. “You called the other day about the missing Reeves twins, Garrett and Gavin.”

“That’s right,” he said, reaching for the sheaf of papers. “We’ve got a situation where twin girls have gone missing on the eve of their twenty-first birthdays.” He explained about the ongoing investigation and how Brianna Hayward, Donovan Caldwell’s cousin, had come up with a theory she thought might exonerate him. Unfortunately, Caldwell had died earlier this morning in his jail cell in California.

Osgoode told him that she was aware of the 21 Killer. “The Reeves investigation is still open,” she said, “but I just don’t think our missing twins fit your guy’s MO, what with them both being male.”

“That was my thought,” Bentz admitted. Osgoode promised to keep him informed of any developments, and they ended the call. He took one last look at the photos of the brothers who went missing in Arizona, then shoved the file to the bottom of the stack of papers. He didn’t think the Reeves brothers were victims of 21.

Unfortunately he couldn’t say the same for the Denning twins, now days past their joint twenty-first birthday and still missing.

Not a good sign.

Not a good sign at all.

Jase drove to his apartment at the speed of light. His rage, temporarily abated while dealing with Brianna, had returned to a low, seething burn. Now rather than going off half-cocked, he was calmer but still angry as hell.