Andrea Kane - The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

Marc was tapping his pencil against his leg. Now he hunched over and drew a line through two names. “So we’re crossing off the nanny and her loser boyfriend. What about other relatives-grandparents, siblings, aunts and uncles?”

“Edward’s an only child. Both parents deceased,” Casey responded. “Hope, as you know, has a much more complicated past. After her twin sister, Felicity, was kidnapped and the trail went cold, her parents’ marriage fell apart. Her father started drinking heavily. He and his wife divorced. He took off, never to be heard from again. The wife, Vera, came close to a nervous breakdown. Having a six-year-old who needed her kept her from going over the edge. She still lives in the same house the twins grew up in. Hope says that part of her mother never gave up praying that Felicity would come home.”

“Where is this house?”

“New Rochelle. A solid half hour away. Vera Akerman is too shaken and heavily medicated to drive herself. For obvious reasons, Krissy’s kidnapping is bringing back the worst memories of her life. But she needs to be with her daughter. So Hope’s arranged for a car service to pick her up and bring her to Armonk.”

“Do you plan to interview her?” Ryan asked.

“Gently, but yes. Tomorrow afternoon. I want to give her some time alone with her daughter.”

“I agree,” Marc said with a nod. “It’s doubtful she can cast any light on Krissy’s kidnapper anyway. In the meantime, let’s move on. I scanned some internet articles on recent cases Edward was involved with as defense counsel. A few of them raised some red flags. Wealthy, white-collar scumbags, with backgrounds that scream violence. I’m sure they’re guilty of the crimes they were charged with committing, but are instead free as birds, living the good life, thanks to Edward Willis. I already called in a few favors. I’ll be getting a look at the court transcripts. Then, I’ll be paying a few visits.”

“How soon?” Casey asked.

“Tomorrow morning. I’ll be pounding the pavement by noon.”

Casey’s head dropped back against the chair’s backrest, and she blew out a frustrated breath. “We’re fighting the clock. Krissy’s already been missing for longer than the first crucial hours. Peg told me they have nothing solid from the call-ins. And there’s been no contact about ransom. None.”

“Child predator,” Marc muttered. “You know that’s what Hutch and Grace are going to come up with.”

“Yes,” Casey said quietly. “I know. But there are too many unique personal details here for our kidnapper to be a random sex offender, even one with a fetish for little girls. He specifically wanted Krissy. Why? We have to tie the two together.” A pause. “I plan on being at Krissy’s school tomorrow, and talking to her friends during recess. The parents all gave me permission, as did the school. It’s a comfortable environment, and the kids won’t feel pressured. I’ll keep it light. But I’ll get what I can. Tonight, I’m running through the list of disgruntled parents from Hope’s family court. I’ll talk to as many of them as I can tomorrow. Oh, and I’ll also be talking to Claudia Mitchell, Hope’s former court clerk. Seems she broke up with her fiancé recently, and skitzed out enough so that Hope had to fire her.”

“Both of you are going to step on more than a few law enforcement toes tomorrow,” Ryan said thoughtfully. “So let’s keep me out of the mix to minimize the collateral damage. Give me the lists. I’ll hole up and do some in-depth searches. Based on what I find, I’ll put together likely scenarios for the suspects I think have not only the motive, means and opportunity, but the brain power and access to the right people to pull this off. I take it we’re looking for a main player who’s male and a compliant accomplice who’s female.”

“I think so, yes.” That triggered another issue in Casey’s mind. “I believe that Krissy’s being held in a basement that was converted into a princess-pink bedroom. The woman who took her impersonated Hope, right down to her tailored black suit. She drugged her and took her to wherever she is. As of late afternoon, Krissy was terrified and isolated, but still alive.”

“How do you know…” Ryan broke off, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been talking to Claire-voyant. I saw her wandering around the house. I don’t know why the cops-and you-listen to her.”

“Because ninety percent of the time she’s right,” Casey shot back. She steeled herself, and went for it, head-on. “You know I plan to expand Forensic Instincts. I think we need a better balance to the group. We’ve got logic up the yin-yang. A little ethereal input would be good for us. I’ve done my homework, Ryan. Claire Hedgleigh’s the real deal. I want to hire her.”

“Ah, shit.” Ryan slapped his palm on the table.

Casey ignored him, turning to Marc. “Ryan’s feelings are obvious. Yours?”

Marc pursed his lips, silently weighing the question. “You know I’m not a big believer in psychics,” he replied at last. “The fit’s not going to be easy. But I do see your point. I know Claire’s success rate. That’s fact, not speculation. Do you know if she’s interested?”

“Not a clue,” Casey answered honestly. “I wanted to talk to the two of you before I broached the subject. So I take it you’re not opposed?”

A corner of Marc’s mouth lifted. “How tough is she? There’s going to be a lot of infighting going on. Can she take it?”

“Not a doubt.” Casey arched a brow in Ryan’s direction. “Can you?”

Ryan met Casey’s gaze. “I can take anything. But I’m not going easy on her. If I think she’s spouting crap, I’ll say so.”

“Are you going to go after her on purpose?”

“I’m not in middle school, Casey. If you think she’s a value-add, I won’t fight you-or her-unless I disagree. Which I probably will. But I’ll make it work, if it makes the group stronger.”

“Good. Because I think it will.” Casey rose. “Why don’t the two of you go home and get some rest. We never did sleep off the Fisher case. Plus, I want to hit the ground running first thing tomorrow.” She frowned. “It makes me ill that Krissy Willis is out there tonight, scared to death, and possibly being violated in some sick way.”

“Sexual predators don’t wait for bedtime, Casey,” Marc reminded her quietly. “If that’s who has her, time is what matters. Not time of day.”

“I know.” Casey raked a hand through her hair. “And I’d pound the pavement all night, if I thought that Peg Harrington wouldn’t cut us off at the knees. We’ve got to play ball a little or the Feds will kick us out on our asses. They’ll be out there 24/7. So I’ll spend tonight reviewing my notes and seeing if something I haven’t spotted yet jumps out at me.”

“You get some rest, too,” Ryan advised, yawning as he came to his feet. “You’ve got a packed day tomorrow.”

“Will do.”

But both guys knew that meant “won’t do.” Just as they knew they’d be burning the midnight oil themselves.

It was well past two in the morning when Casey’s doorbell rang.

She’d been scribbling notes in the margins of her lists, and had pretty much reached a roadblock that couldn’t be skirted until the morning’s interviews.

She put down her pen and smiled. Only one person had the stamina, the tenacity and the incentive to show up on her doorstep at this ungodly hour.

She went down the two flights of stairs and peeked outside. Then she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Hi,” she greeted her guest with a smug grin. “Here for breakfast?”

Hutch walked inside, kicked the door shut and dragged Casey into his arms. “Damn straight.” He was already unbuttoning her shirt as he covered her mouth with his. He lifted her off the floor and turned sharply, pressing her against the wall as he continued yanking off her clothes. “First time will be right here,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “Then I’ll take you to bed.”