Andrea Kane - The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

“You’ve got to admit, it looks pretty damning. The diagrams, the cash, the connections.”

“Why would Bennato want to kidnap a kid?”

“I tell you what. Why don’t we send you back out there to ask him?”

Joe went sheet-white. “Please. Don’t do that. I’ll be dead by tonight.”

“Probably. Which makes jail a much safer choice. Tell us where Krissy Willis is, and we’ll put a guard outside your cell.”

“I don’t know!” Joe hollered. “I didn’t take that kid! Neither did Claudia. She resented the hell out of Judge Willis for firing her. But she’d never hurt a child. And even if I did do all the other things you just said-which I’m not admitting I did-I never touched a kid. Never. I swear it!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Casey murmured on the opposite side of the glass. “His entire body language is screaming it. Direct eye contact. Offensive posture. Whole body aligned with his words. He’s not clever enough to fake all that.”

“I agree.” Claire was eyeing Joe intently. “I’m picking up a fair amount of negative energy, so my guess is that the FBI is right about his ties to the mob. But I’m not sensing any real evil. He’s not a sociopath. And he didn’t kidnap Krissy.”

“Then who did?” Casey ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “I feel like we’re speeding down streets that look promising, but coming up against one dead end after another. We know the main road is close by, but we just can’t reach it. The past and the present are related. I know it-I just can’t get at how.”

Claire angled her head slowly until she faced Casey. “I don’t know what it means, or if it’s related to anything you just said. But I had the oddest dream the other night. It was about Krissy’s stuffed panda.”

The house is always packed with FBI agents, and the driveway is packed with cars.

Now there’s only one.

There’s never going to be a better time for what I have to do.

Another assignment I can’t refuse. It’s for Krissy. It’s necessary to fill the void until the feelings alone are enough.

Selfishly, it’s for me, as well. I’m afraid of the fate I’ll suffer if I change my mind and turn away.

Check the driveway one more time. Still just the one. It belongs to the agent inside monitoring the phones. Everyone else has left, except for the old woman and the nanny. Both their bedroom lights are off, which means they’ve gone to bed.

I’m taking a huge risk, I know. But to see Krissy’s face light up-it’ll be worth it. She’s still so traumatized.

This close, even through the window, I can hear snippets of the agent’s conversation. It sounds pretty heated. Probably an argument with his superior, or a wife. Good. It’s the perfect distraction.

Back door. There’s nothing but wooded acreage back there, and nothing but a short hall to the backstairs inside. I can do this. I have to do this.

My hands have to stop shaking. Stop it. Stop it.

Key in the lock. A quiet click. No burglar alarm screaming through the halls. Good. Although I came prepared.

The agent’s still on the phone, he sounds more intense. Nonetheless, my time is limited.

Silently. Carefully. One carpeted step up at a time.

Safe. And I know just where to find what I came for. Krissy talks about it all the time. It makes her feel less scared. But she hurts so for Oreo.

This will fix the problem.

Top shelf beside her bed. Nestled in a makeshift nest of straw. Ruby the Robin and her nest. Oreo’s best friend.

Step one complete.

Down the hall to the master bedroom suite. The makeup table. In a simple, classy bottle. Joy. A lovely perfume, a memorable scent.

Now, something else. It will add to the mirage.

The jewelry box-on the dresser. The heart-shaped locket. Inside, a picture of Krissy on one side, and a picture of the woman who’d been her mother on the other. Nothing could be more perfect.

Everything back in place. Nothing looks disturbed.

Ashley was sure she’d heard a noise. A creaking sound. Footsteps? She was probably imagining things, but, after what had happened to Krissy, she wasn’t in the mood of letting anything slide.

She belted her bathrobe and left her room. First, she poked her nose into Krissy’s room, scanned the area. All was silent, dark and deserted. She flicked on the light. Nobody was there. She shut the door behind her, and headed down the hall, glancing into each upstairs guest room and study. Nothing. Mrs. Akerman’s door was shut. Ashley pressed her ear to the door. Silent. And no light shone from underneath. Not a surprise, given that the poor woman had retired hours ago.

Completing her tour, Ashley headed down to the other end of the hall and the master bedroom suite.

The door was ajar, the way Judge Willis often left it. Pushing it open, she stepped inside and glanced around.

There was no warning, nor any chance to turn around.

A heavy object crashed down on her head, sending blinding pain vibrating through her skull, and knocking her to the ground.

She made a faint moaning sound and lost consciousness.

Hope and Edward were silent during their car ride home from the police precinct. Edward drove mechanically, and Hope sat in the passenger seat, her body angled away from her husband, her head resting against the cool windowpane.

It didn’t take a professional to interpret their body language.

“Joe Deale didn’t give us a damned thing, other than his connection to Bennato,” Edward finally said.

“Neither did you. And you once had business ties to Tony Bennato, too,” Hope replied bitterly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that there are all types of criminal acts, some dirtier than others. I realize you don’t work the streets. But you represented a major figure in organized crime.”

Edward shot her a sideways look. “I already explained that. Besides, I hardly see the two associations as the same. Joe Deale works for the mob. I don’t.”

“Not directly, no. But the clients you represent, and the way you do business…” Hope sucked in her breath. “I’ve turned a blind eye for so long. But your scruples, or lack thereof, really struck home when I remembered your defending Tony Bennato. No, that’s not entirely true. They struck home when I opened your safe and saw the treasure chest you’ve accumulated. You made it very easy for me to get the cash I needed for the ransom. I doubt you won the money on lottery tickets.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is you’re hardly one to cast stones. Stop being so sanctimonious about my negotiating with the kidnappers. I was trying to save our daughter. I’m well aware that you don’t care for my methods. I’m not particularly fond of yours.” Hope inclined her head slightly in her husband’s direction. “Let’s put aside our dirty laundry for now and get through this crisis. Then we can deal with our differences in whatever way we see fit.”

Edward’s jaw tightened. “Whatever you say. But our differences aren’t just professional or marital. They’re about Krissy’s abduction, as well. You’re fully committed to the idea that Felicity’s and Krissy’s kidnappings are connected.”

“And you see no merit to that theory?”

“I didn’t say that. Your father’s mob dealings back then, and the fact that it just now became common knowledge makes the first strong argument in favor of that idea. But it’s not the only theory. The FBI is working on several.”