The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

  “Uh-uh.” Casey shook her head. “He loves his daughter—as much as he’s capable of loving anyone—but he sure as hell doesn’t want full responsibility for her. Any more than he wants a life with that hot young nanny. What he wants is exactly what he’s got—the whole nine yards. A perfect little family. Great sex from a young woman who worships him. And a prestigious legal practice that he’d never in a million years leave. It feeds his bank account and his ego. Nope. Edward’s got a good thing here. He just doesn’t want us to blow it by telling Hope. As it is, he knows he’s under the FBI’s microscope, since he’s Krissy’s father and, therefore, a prime suspect. So he’s not a happy camper.”

  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.”

  “It’s four flights,” she reminded him breathlessly, unzipping his fly. “I might not leave you with the strength.”

  “Try me.”

  “I plan to.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Day Two

  Krissy rolled over and hugged Oreo. She buried her face in his soft fur. Like always when it was dark. And here, it stayed dark whenever the lamp wasn’t on. The night-light helped. It looked just like hers. It kept her from getting too scared.

  The bed was soft. The blanket was, too. And she was wearing a nightgown now. The pajamas were gone. They’d been gone for a long time.

  With her eyes shut, she could pretend she was home. She hadn’t been able to do that before. Too many bad things had happened. But since she drank the milkshake, the bad things were going away. She felt warm and sleepy. She’d been happy to climb into bed. The hand that stroked her hair as she went to sleep felt like her mommy’s. The voice was gentle like her mommy’s. Maybe she’d dreamed the whole scary day.

  Maybe when the lamp went back on, she’d be in her own bed. Then she could tell her mommy about the bad nightmare.

  If her mommy had already left for work, she could always tell Ashley.

  But she didn’t really want to.

  Not anymore.

  With a huge yawn, Casey towel-dried her hair. The sun was just rising outside her bathroom window. An hour and ten minutes of sleep. Not exactly the requisite amount for a productive day. Yet Casey had never felt more energized. If it weren’t for the case preying on her mind, she would have loved nothing more than to stay in bed with Hutch until noon, making up for lost time. He was an amazing lover, and with weeks, sometimes months, separating their visits, the intensity of their time together was pretty damned breath catching.

  But those extra hours were not meant to be. Not this time. Not when both of them were committed to finding Krissy Willis.

  Casey came out of the bathroom to find Hutch tossing aside his towel and pulling on his clothes. He glanced up as she walked across the bedroom in her terry robe, and shot her a very sexy, very sated grin.

  “Thanks for the best shower I’ve had in ages,” he said. “I barely remember getting clean.”

  “You did,” she assured him. “I washed your back myself.”

  “Among other parts.”

  “And you returned the favor.”

  Hutch pulled her against him for a long, deep kiss. “To be continued tonight.”

  “It’s a date.”

  “By the way,” he told her, shrugging into his shirt and buttoning it. “I brought you a present.”

  Casey’s brows rose. “Really. What is it?”

  “First comes the where. Then the what.”

  “Now you’ve really got me curious.”

  “Good.” Hutch finished buttoning his shirt. “Then give me a half hour. I’ll be back with two cups of strong coffee, and your gift.”

  “It’s in your car?”

  “Nope. But close by. And that’s all I’m going to say.” He gave her a sly wink. “See you in thirty.”

  True to his word, Hutch knocked on the door twenty-eight minutes later.

  Casey opened the door, and blinked. She was expecting the cardboard tray of steaming coffee that Hutch clutched in his right hand. But she wasn’t expecting the leash wrapped around his left. Or what was at the other end—a handsome red bloodhound. The dog sat obediently by Hutch’s side, his deep hazel eyes soulful and curious, his high-curved tail wagging back and forth as he stared at Casey.

  “Your gift has arrived,” Hutch announced.

  “A bloodhound?” Stunned, Casey found herself bending down and stroking the dog’s glossy head. “You brought me a bloodhound?”

  “Not just any bloodhound. A human scent evidence dog. Certified, but retired. Hero drove up with Grace and me. He came straight from Quantico. He fulfilled his two-and-a-half years of training. Unfortunately, after his certification, his handler discovered that he was a terrible air traveler. Which doesn’t cut it. The team hated retiring him—evidently, he was a star pupil in his training class. But they had no choice. Anyway, I spoke to the breeder and offered to find a new home for him. I knew how much you wanted a dog, particularly a bloodhound. Now you have one.”

  “A human scent evidence dog,” Casey murmured, still stroking Hero’s head. Hutch was right. She was crazy about dogs. She’d had one most of her life. And bloodhounds were a particular passion of hers. She and Target, her last bloodhound, had gone through tracking and trailing classes together, right up to the time when he’d passed away at the ripe old age of twelve. She missed those classes terribly. But the time commitment was too extensive for her to continue once she’d started Forensic Instincts. Still, the company was under control now, growing but settled. And bloodhounds were noble and unique—far too special to pass up. Plus, her life seemed a little empty without a canine companion.

  “Like I said, he just turned three,” Hutch was telling her. “He’s sharp, fiercely loyal, and has an olfactory sense that’s off the charts. Oh, and his instincts are keen, so he’ll even fit in with your company name.”

  A smile curved Casey’s lips. “Hey, Hero,” she greeted him, scratching his long ears. “I love your name. And I have a gut feeling it suits you.”

  In response, Hero crossed the threshold and began slobbering enthusiastically at Casey’s face.

  “I take it you know they drool,” Hutch commented.

  “Profusely.” Casey laughed. “And they’re stubborn as hell. Sounds like most men.”

  “Very cute.”

  “I thought so.” Casey turned her attention back to Hero. “We have only a small backyard for you. The good news is that the fence is so high, you won’t be taking off.” Casey sprawled on the floor so she could rub Hero’s white underbelly. “Also, Tribeca has a couple of fabulous parks that would give us room to maintain your trailing skills. Plus, I could take you out for a morning and an evening jog. You won’t even have time to be lonely. Marc and Ryan are in and out all day, and they’d be thrilled to have you join the team. They’re both stubborn, too, yes, so you’ll have your work cut out for you. Between the two of them and me, you’ll have plenty of play pals. How’s that sound, Hero?”

  “And, whenever you can’t be around, Casey, there’s a great place just a few blocks from here that offers everything from doggie day care to five-star hotel service,” Hutch added. “Believe me, I saw it firsthand. That’s where Hero spent the night. His accommodations made mine look like a Dumpster.”

  Casey tilted back her head and gazed up at Hutch. “You knew I couldn’t say no to this gift, didn’t you?”

  “I was pretty sure, yeah.” He grinned. “I have a crate, food and a bunch of other essentials in my car. The rest is up to you. So, what’s the verdict? Does Hero have a new home?”

  Hero perked up at the sound of his name. He looked so erect and professional that Casey could swear he was applying for a job.

  “Welcome to Forensic Instincts, Hero,” Casey said in response. She massaged his jowls, then scrambled to her feet. “Let’s get you settled. Then we’ll give Ryan a call and ask him to pop up here ASAP. You two need to meet, since both Marc and I have a ton of interviews to conduct and Ryan can do everything from here today.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Hutch gulped his coffee. “I’ll get Hero’s gear from my car. Then I’ve got to run. Grace and I have to get over to the Willis place.”

  “And I’m starting out at Krissy’s school. M
aybe her little friends know something they don’t even realize they know. Someone hanging around the school, or pulling up in a car to talk to Krissy. I’ve got a zillion bases to cover.”

  “As do I.” Hutch gave her a quick kiss and Hero a quick scratch behind the ears. “I’m sorry for an abrupt end to a great night.”

  “You’ll make it up to me,” Casey assured him with a twinkle in her eye. “You’ve already made a down payment by bringing me my new best friend.”

  Casey called Hope as she drove up to Armonk. “Any news?”

  “Nothing.” Hope sounded like she was about to shatter. “The FBI task force has been working all night, crossing names off the suspect list, establishing alibis and manning the phones. I’m a mess. My mother’s due here in an hour, and I don’t know how I’m going to keep it together for her.”

  “Where’s your husband?”

  “At the office.” A pause. “He was going crazy sitting around here, waiting for a ransom call or a breakthrough. But he’s ready to come home at the drop of a hat,” she added quickly in his defense.

  Casey refrained from responding. “I’m on my way to Krissy’s school. Then I’m checking out some of the parents on the losing end in your courtroom, as well as Claudia Mitchell.”

  “Claudia?” Hope sounded horrified. “I know she was hurt and angry when I let her go. But do you really think she’s capable of kidnapping a child?”

  “I don’t know. But no one’s above suspicion, and I’m leaving no stone unturned. My whole team is on the move. I’ll stop by the house later. In the meantime, call me with any updates.”

  “I will.”

  Claire Hedgleigh circled the area in the school parking lot where the car that had taken Krissy away had picked her up. The vibes here were dark. Something ugly had definitely happened. And it had taken Krissy totally by surprise. By the time she understood what was going on, it was too late.

  With a heavy heart, Claire squatted down and touched the pavement, willing herself to sense more.