Andrea Kane - The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

“I don’t know.” He drew Hope closer in a protective gesture. “But we’ll find out. And we’ll bring Krissy home.” Again, his gaze swept the room. “Who trashed her bedroom?”

“ I did.”

Ed drew back, his brows knit in confusion. “I don’t understand. You told me Krissy disappeared at school. That she was taken right after the bell. So why…?”

“Your wife was about to answer that very question for me,” Officer Krauss interceded. “We checked this room out first, before we sealed it off for the Westchester County Forensic Investigation Unit. Everything seemed to be in order and completely untouched-at least until your wife turned the place upside down. Your nanny confirmed that she arrived right after you left this morning so she could do the laundry, bake cookies for your daughter’s after-school snack, and catch up on her own studying. She assured us that no one was at the house, or in this room, today.”

“Ashley’s wrong,” Hope countered. “So are the police.” Tears glistened on her lashes. “Whoever took Krissy was in this room. Today. During the time that Krissy was in school. Ed-” she turned to command her husband’s attention “-I looked everywhere. Oreo’s gone.”

His gaze snapped back to the bed. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. He and his blanket are both missing. The kidnapper must have come specifically to get them.”

“Dammit.” With a hard swallow, Edward turned to explain to Krauss. “Oreo is my daughter’s stuffed bear.”

“Panda,” Hope corrected.

“Panda. She drags him all over the house. The only time she puts him down is when she goes to school. Then, she covers him with a little blanket. It’s…” He paused to think.

“Lavender fleece,” Hope supplied. “It came with one of her dolls. She gave it to Oreo. She said she was afraid he’d get cold when she went to school and wasn’t there to hug him, so she tucked him in every day…on her bed…” With that, Hope finally, completely broke down. She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

Edward touched his wife’s shoulder, but she backed away, wrapping her arms around herself in a determined attempt to withstand this emotional ordeal on her own. Still weeping, she drew inward, seeking comfort where none existed.

It was like reliving a nightmare. Only worse. Now she was grown. And now the victim was her child, her precious little girl.

Officer Krauss was scribbling notes onto a pad. “You’re sure the bear was here when Krissy left for school?”

“Positive,” Hope managed. “I saw him when I came in to get Krissy’s jacket. She was already waiting for me at the front door. We were running late. I took her directly to school. She never went back upstairs.”

“Which means she never reentered her bedroom.” Krauss double-checked the bedroom windows. “As I said earlier, no sign of forced entry.” He was already heading for the door. “My men and I will recheck the security system and every door and window in the house. Then, I’ll need those personal items and information we talked about.”

There was a long silence when Hope and Edward were alone.

“The FBI should be here any minute,” he said at last.

“I’m sure they will. They’ll set up Command Central, waiting for a ransom call, while they grill us. They’ll start with our relationship, since we’re Krissy’s parents and the primary suspects. Then, they’ll move on to every human being who holds a grudge against us-which will take days, given our careers. Meanwhile, Krissy’s out there somewhere. Scared. Alone. And God knows what else.” Hope’s hand was shaking as she whipped out her cell phone. “So, yes, I’m glad we have the police and the FBI on board. But it’s not enough.” She punched in directory assistance.

“Who are you calling?”

“Forensic Instincts.”

Edward blinked. “The profilers?”

“Yes,” Hope confirmed. “You know their track record. It’s unbelievable. Five cases. Five successes. They find criminals. Serial killers. Rapists. And kidnappers. They’re on the fast track. And they don’t have a dozen other cases they have to work at the same time.”

A scowl. “We should check with the FBI first. What if the involvement of an independent organization puts Krissy in more danger?”

“It won’t.” Hope was talking so fast she was tripping on her words. “I’ve followed their work. They know just how to handle things. Your friends at the FBI might not like it, but I don’t give a damn.” A hard look at Edward as her index finger hovered over the send button. “I’ve been through this nightmare before. I’m not losing Krissy.”

“I know what you went through. But you can’t compare the two traumas. It’s over three decades. Law enforcement’s capabilities have grown by leaps and bounds.”

“I don’t care. I can’t survive this again. Especially not when it comes to my daughter.”

“I understand. But-”

“Look, Edward, three decades ago or not, some things haven’t changed. Like the fact that an investigation can remain active for only so long. The last time the case went cold after two years. I’m not chancing that again. Not with my baby. Don’t bother arguing with me. I’m doing this. I’ll get them to drop anything they’re doing. I’ll pay them whatever fee they ask for.” Hope was finished waiting. She punched the green button and put the call through.

“In Manhattan, I need the number for Forensic Instincts, LLC.” Hope reached for a pad and pen.

“Fine. If you feel that strongly about it, go ahead,” Edward reluctantly conceded. “But I want them working with law enforcement. Not independently.”

“If that’s possible, great. If not-” Hope shrugged, scribbling down the number. Having gotten what she wanted, she disconnected the call, and began furiously punching in the telephone number. “The truth is, I don’t give a damn about the cops’ or the FBI’s internal politics. I don’t give a damn about anything -except getting Krissy home safe and sound. So if Forensic Instincts’ methods are too unconventional to suit you-hello?” Hope put her lips to the mouthpiece, her throat working as she spoke. “Is this Casey Woods?”

“Speaking,” a weary voice answered. “And this is…?”

“My name is Hope Willis. Judge Hope Willis. I live in Armonk. An hour and a half ago, my five-year-old daughter was kidnapped from her elementary school. The police are here. So is the FBI. But the minutes are ticking by. And the suspect list is way too long for them to tackle alone.”

“Really. And why is that?”

“Because I’m a family court judge, and my husband is a criminal defense attorney. We’ve racked up more grudge-holders and enemies than we can recall. We’ll try to compile a list, but it’ll be long. Plus, there are special circumstances involved that make this even more unbearable. I need to hire Forensic Instincts. Now. On an exclusive basis.”

There was a prolonged silence at the other end of the phone.

Special circumstances. An interesting and succinct choice of words. Plus, Casey could hear the repressed note in Judge Willis’s tone. The woman might be going through hell, but she was clearly holding something back. Half-assed candor didn’t fly for her-no matter how dire the circumstances.

“I’m terribly sorry about your daughter,” Casey responded. “But my team and I are just coming off a very intense, draining investigation, and we have other cases that have been back-burnered because of that, and now require our attention. I’m sure the FBI and the police will be on top of-”

“They’re not enough,” Hope interrupted. “I need more than conventional methods. We can’t afford to waste a second. Please. You know how crucial these first three hours are.”