“Marie, I did some other tests,” says Wood. “That’s what took me so long.”

“What tests?”

“Detailed analysis of the pelvic bones showed reabsorption of bone at the ligamental attachment points.”

“Meaning what?”

“Look, the remains were buried in bare dirt for seventeen years, and this kind of analysis is not an exact science—”

“Alice, what are you trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is that there’s a good chance that your victim was pregnant when she died.”

CHAPTER
55

Seabrook, New Hampshire

It’s a one-hour drive from the morgue in Concord to Suzanne Bonanno’s former residence, where her mother, Felicia, still lives. Detective Sergeant Marie Gagnon could have called officers on local patrol to make the notification, but this is something she wants to do. In person.

Mother to mother.

The whole way there, she turns the case over and over in her mind. So many questions. So many loose ends.

So many dead ends.

When she checked the files on Suzanne Bonanno’s disappearance the morning after her remains were found, both in Seabrook and at the FBI office in Bedford, she got the same answer: The files were missing, maybe misplaced. It happens with cold cases. But in two different offices? And why would somebody be moving bones after seventeen years anyway? If you want to hide the crime, why not just leave the bones buried forever?

She parks her unmarked Chevrolet Impala in front of Felicia’s place and sits there for a few moments, observing and absorbing. Run-down trailer homes. Small, scrubby lawns. Narrow lanes. A far cry from Gillette Stadium.

Gagnon walks up the trailer’s steps, knocks, and raises her badge when a woman opens the door. “Felicia Bonanno? I’m Detective Sergeant Gagnon, New Hampshire State Police. I need to talk with you about your daughter Suzanne.”

The middle-aged woman gasps, then buckles at the knees. Gagnon catches her before she can fall. Felicia looks up, her eyes filled with tears. “You found Suzanne. You found my daughter.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bonanno. We did.”

“Where have you been?” Felicia wails. “Where have you been for seventeen years?”

CHAPTER
56

The White House

Cole Wright sits alone in his East Wing office. He’s decided, to borrow a phrase from his football days, that it’s time to call an audible.

Cole presses the intercom buzzer. His assistant, Jason Rollins, instantly enters the office, legal pad in hand.

“Listen carefully,” says Cole. “Cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day. Contact the White House travel office and the military liaison. I want a plane ready to go within the hour. Half-day trip. Quick turnaround. Tell Lambert I want a minimal detail, and make sure he’s on the flight with me.”

“Yes, sir.”