Ted pulled a picture from a leather frame angled precisely on a polished chrome desktop that seemed to float on glass or Lucite legs. It gave Ben the jeebies. How could you put your feet up on a desk like that? Drop a heavy box on it? Nothing in this house felt like it had substance. Except Ted. Maybe that was the point.
“Cass knows where she's going and how to get there,” Ted said as he handed the picture over. “She's going East to school, PR and marketing. She's going to be an events manager. Handle the movers and shakers. She knows how to do that. Network. I taught her to read people. She's a natural.”
Ben looked at the photograph. Attractive, but not threateningly so. Poised. Leaning against a large tree. Dressed in white shorts, peach knit shirt, athletic shoes, and socks. She gripped a tennis racquet loosely in a tanned hand. Brown hair pulled back, makeup natural, smile easy and confident. Wholesome, Ben thought. An old-fashioned word, but that's how she appeared.
A quick search of her clothes didn't show a split personality. The kid didn't pose as an angel then go hoochie mamma to parties.
Ted paced the carpet. “Who would kidnap Cass?” He tugged his rumpled hair. “My ex doesn't have the nerve. Even if she doped Cass and took her, when Cass woke up, she'd just leave. Leatha knows that.” Ted turned and paced back the other direction. “Cass can visit anytime and she doesn't want to. No, Leatha's not a possibility.” He stopped and looked at Ben. “Do you think I should call her?”
“If you don't mind, if you haven't told her, we'd like to do that,” Ben said. “It helps to see someone when we tell them about a kidnapping if there's any chance—”
“I get it,” Ted said. He resumed pacing. “Sure. But I'm telling you. Waste of time.”
Ben nodded. “Probably, but talking about a waste of time…you mind taking a polygraph? Personally, I don't take you for a suspect.”
Ted waved him off. “Fine. But I could talk my way past your electrodes even if I was guilty. Cass could too. We have a way.”