Andrea Kane - The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

Marc gave her a huge, sexy smile, and said, “After this, we’ll work on the other things I can do for you, Sonya. And on the ways you can help me.”

Thirty minutes later, Marc and Ryan left Bennato Construction. Marc had a bite mark on his lips and Sonya’s phone number in his pocket. And the storage room had Ryan’s machine in it. The copier would soon begin to “phone home,” sending Ryan images of every piece of paper that went through it.

“Nice souvenir,” Ryan commented drily, turning from the wheel to indicate Marc’s mouth.

“Shut up.” Marc tore up the phone number and tossed the scraps into the trash container.

“Maybe you should keep that. You could get laid tonight. Hell, you practically got laid ten minutes ago on the new copying machine.” An approving nod. “I guess watching me in action has had a positive educational impact. You really pulled that off. I’ll make sure Casey knows that you’ll make a good backup when I’m otherwise occupied.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” Marc had no desire to fill the role of hot stud. “I do just fine on my own-when it’s for real. But this phony shit is not my thing, even if I am a stellar actor. I only did it this time because seductive ol’ you had to make technical tweaks on your copying machine.” He licked his swollen lower lip. “Damn. She almost tore off a layer of my skin, not to mention smothering me in her breasts.”

“She also had about three brain cells. Not my type either.” Ryan chuckled.

“Let’s just hope we get something off that machine,” Marc said soberly. “The spyware on Joe Deale’s laptop gave us zip.”

“True. We need a quick break. Claudia Mitchell is dead. Where does that leave Krissy Willis?”

“Not just as a kidnapping victim anymore.” Ryan’s jaw tightened.

“Yeah. But hopefully not as collateral damage.”

With a tight grip on his leash, Casey led Hero into the Willis home. The bloodhound’s nose was everywhere, taking in the smells of the house and the scents of the people in it.

“Great-looking guy, Casey.” Grace greeted her in the living room doorway. “I knew you’d come to your senses and replace Hutch.”

“Given how pissed off at him I am right now, I just might take that advice.” Casey didn’t pull any punches with Hutch’s partner. They were a tight team, and Casey was sure that Grace was aware of the fact that Hutch had called Marc, rather than Casey, with the news about Claudia Mitchell’s murder.

Casey wasn’t sure which was more immature-Hutch’s action, or her own reaction.

She spotted him across the room, and purposely ignored him. She had things to deal with; she’d thrash it out with Hutch later.

“What happened with Akerman and yesterday’s lineup?” Casey asked. “Did Sidney recognize that guy Lou DeMassi?”

“From what Peg told me, I think that Akerman was pretty sure DeMassi was one of the mobsters squeezing Kenyon. Last I heard, Peg and Don were interrogating him. Ken went over to DeMassi’s son’s place, but the guy and his family seem to have magically left on a spontaneous Sicilian vacation. Ken will find him. But we’re back to the same enemy-time.”

“Casey-” Hope interjected, hurrying over, her lashes damp with tears. “This nightmare just keeps getting worse and worse. Why would the mob kill Claudia? Did she know something? Are they warning her boyfriend to keep his mouth shut about my baby?”

“I don’t know,” Casey answered honestly. “But they obviously went to great lengths to pick the right spot to commit the murder. That section of road is all hills and sharp curves. And it’s countrified, so it’s pretty isolated. I’m guessing they followed her up to there, waited for her return trip and did their job.”

Turning back to Grace, Casey asked, “Has someone told Joe Deale about Claudia yet?”

“Yup.” Grace nodded. “Peg stopped at the precinct before she and Don drove up to the medical center to question the staff. From what I heard, Deale is totally freaked out. Not so much about losing his girlfriend, but about what it suggests. He knows that he’s next. He’s like a rat in a maze, not knowing what he might know and not knowing how to get out.”

“I finished our updated profile and released it to the entire task force.” Hutch appeared out of nowhere to convey that information to Grace. “They’re all running with it.” He glanced at Casey. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she returned coolly without meeting his gaze. Instead, she addressed Hope. “I have some photos for you and your mother to look at. Is she up for it now?”

“Yes, of course. Come into the Florida room. She’s resting there. It’s the only place that’s removed from the pandemonium, and she hasn’t gotten any real sleep since Krissy…” A tremor in her voice. “Since they took Krissy. Ashley’s with her.”

“Good. Ashley practically lives here. It’s possible that she might be able to identify someone, too.” Casey began following Hope, then paused. “Is your mother okay with dogs? As I mentioned to you on the phone, I brought Hero to do some more sniffing recon.”

“She’s fine with them.”

“Hero does slobber,” Casey warned.

Hope managed a small smile. “My mother had a cocker spaniel when she was growing up. According to her, ‘Slobber’ was his middle name. So I wouldn’t worry. Going through those photos with a fine-tooth comb is what this is all about.”

“Great. What I’ll do is leave the stack of photos with the three of you, explain what I’m looking for and take Hero up to Krissy’s room. Okay?”

“Fine. Yes. Anything.”

They continued into the Florida room, where Vera was sitting on the couch bleakly sipping a cup of tea and Ashley was pacing around, unable to sit still.

“Hi,” Ashley said, stopping to look at Casey. “Did you hear the horrible news about Claudia Mitchell?”

A nod. “The authorities are all over it. Hopefully, we’ll hear something soon.”

Ashley’s gaze dropped to Hero. “What a beautiful bloodhound. Is he yours?”

“Not only mine, but a newly inducted member of Forensic Instincts,” Casey replied. “He’s a former FBI human scent evidence dog, trained and certified at Quantico. We’re lucky that he went into early retirement. This way, he can work the case with us.”

Casey turned back to Vera and Hope. “I have photos for you to review. Felicity’s friends, aged to what they would currently look like. And their parents, as well. Hope, you study the images carefully and let me know if you’ve seen any of these people hanging around your house or Krissy’s school. And Mrs. Akerman, I’d appreciate if you’d concentrate on seeing if you recognize the kids from childhood, and their parents from younger adulthood.”

“You’re searching for a clue that would tie the two kidnappings together-like the same kidnapper,” Hope concluded aloud.

“Exactly,” Casey said. “Ashley, you join Judge Willis in her scrutiny of the current individuals. You spend so much time here-maybe someone in the pictures will jump out at you.”

“Of course.” Ashley had already settled herself beside Hope, who’d sunk down on the opposite sofa, photos in hand.

“Take your time,” Casey instructed. “Hero and I will go upstairs to Krissy’s bedroom. I want to collect a few more of Krissy’s things that have her smells. Hero’s sense of smell is unbelievable. He could pick up her scent from miles away. That can only help us.”

Casey was just about to head upstairs when Patrick arrived.

“Where do things stand?” he demanded.

Quickly, Casey filled him in, then suggested that he, too, review the photos and see if anyone struck him from three decades ago.