Forgotten by Mariah Stewart

I’ll meet you at Giorgio’s in Dalesberg at six.” She hung up the phone, then frowned.
    Had she just agreed to a date with Sheldon Woods’s lawyer?
    No big deal, it’s a fact-finding mission,
she told herself.
Exchange of information. Nothing more. So unimportant that I’m not even going to stop in the ladies’ room to put on some makeup or fuss with my hair. It’s just meeting at a convenient time.
    Yeah,
she reminded herself, grimacing at the implications.
The dinner hour on a Saturday night. Way to advertise that you have no social life, Cahill.
    “Well, then, apparently, neither does he,” she said aloud. “Besides, it’s fact finding,” she repeated. “Just…fact finding.”
             
    J ames Cannon was already seated at a window table overlooking a fast-moving stream when she arrived. He stood when she approached and held her chair.
Not necessary,
she’d wanted to say, but thought it would sound peevish, so she bit back the remark and merely said, “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” He sat opposite her. “Did you hit a lot of traffic on your way?”
    “No, it was fine.”
    The waiter appeared at the table and she looked up. “I’ll have a Yuengling.”
    “What? A woman who doesn’t drink light beer?” Cannon feigned shock.
    “I make it a point to avoid anything with light on the label.” She opened the menu and scanned the offerings, then closed it again.
    “Know what you want?” he asked.
    “I’m here for the chicken piccata,” she said as she unfolded the list of names she’d typed up before she left the office. “But mostly, I’m here for this.”
    “What is that?”
    “A list of lost boys.” She passed it to him. “Boys who were reported missing during the time Sheldon Woods was out there doing his thing.”
    She watched his eyes as he read down the list. When he got to the bottom, he said, “None of these boys ever came home?”
    “I’m not sure. I have calls into each one of the law enforcement agencies that reported into the system. They’re supposed to remove the names if the boy is located, but you can’t always count on that. Frankly, I don’t expect to hear from anyone until midweek. But I had to start somewhere.”
    “It’s a lot of names.” He shook his head. “Do this many kids disappear every year?”
    “Way more than that. These are just the boys from Woods’s self-professed killing grounds. When you start adding up all the minors who are reported missing every year, the number is staggering.”
    “How many of them are found alive?”
    “Way too few.”
    The waiter came back with Portia’s beer and took their orders.
    She sipped from the glass and smiled. “One thing I missed while I was away. Good old Pennsylvania beer.”
    “Where were you?”
    “I’ve been working with the counterterrorism unit of the Bureau for the past several years.”
    “Must have been exciting.”
    “It had its moments.”
    “Where were you?” he repeated, but this time, she knew he wanted specifics.
    “Here and there.” She smiled. “Anyway, back to the case at hand. I’m assuming you didn’t recognize any of the names on that list.”
    “Did you expect me to?”
    “I thought maybe Woods might have mentioned the names of some of his victims whose whereabouts he hadn’t given up.”
    “Are you kidding?” He lifted his beer and took a drink. “I had to fight tooth and nail to get him to give up the thirteen. Until it became obvious to him that it was in his best interest to start naming names and drawing maps, he wasn’t going to admit to a thing. But even if he had, I wouldn’t be able to give you the information. Anything he told me back then, when I was representing him, would be privileged.”
    “I figured as much, but I thought I’d give it a shot.”
    “Agent Cahill, I know you don’t think much of me and what I do—it’s okay, I get that from law enforcement types all the time—but I do try to stay true to the oath I took.”