The Girl Who Disappeared Twice (11 page)

“Where is he now?”

“The most recent address I have is in Ithaca. But it’s eight years old. The one interesting thing is what his job was, and maybe still is—custodian in an elementary school.”

Marc let out a low whistle. “Any indication of off-color behavior during that time? Approaching kids, talking or acting inappropriately around kids—even watching kids at the bus stop?”

Ryan shook his head, double-checking by inputting a slew of data into the computer. “Nothing documented,” he reaffirmed. He called up a page, entered the print command and waited for the single sheet of paper that he snatched off the laser printer. “But here’s the address of the school, and a list of the faculty. The principal’s been there for ten years, so he’s bound to know Sidney Akerman. And some of the faculty predate the principal. I’d say this is our best starting point.” A questioning look at Casey. “Do you want me to drive upstate and check it out?”

Before Casey could respond, there was a knock at the front door.

“Hold that thought,” she said, heading for the hall.

She returned a minute later, Patrick at her side.

“Marc, Ryan, this is former Special Agent Patrick Lynch, our new consultant on the Krissy Willis abduction.” Casey made the introductions. “As I told you, he was the lead case agent on the Felicity Akerman investigation.”

The three men shook hands.

“Good timing. We were just discussing Sidney Akerman,” Casey informed Patrick, bringing him up to speed. “Ryan tracked him to upstate New York.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “And I was just asking Casey if she wanted me to drive up there and check it out.”

“I’ll do that,” Patrick intervened. “If you picked up on Sidney Akerman’s trail, I want to follow it. He was always one of my missing pieces. There was never any doubt that he was a genuine wreck when Felicity was kidnapped. But there was also no doubt that he became an angry drunk afterwards. Plus, the fact that he’s been MIA for decades is a huge loose end. It’s my responsibility to see it through. I’ll head up to Ithaca early tomorrow.”

No one argued. Patrick had supplied them with all the background on the Akerman cold case. It was his right to pursue this lead.

But Casey wanted to know a lot more about the Felicity Akerman abduction than where Sidney Akerman fit into the puzzle. After her conversation with his ex-wife earlier today, she had other people of interest to ask about.

“Patrick, let’s all go upstairs to our conference room,” she suggested. “That’s our think tank, the place where we do our best brainstorming. Appropriate, since you and the group of us have a mountain of information to share.”

“
Share
being the operative word,” Patrick returned drily. “I’m not going upstairs to be interrogated.”

“Then you’re going to be majorly pissed off,” Casey answered with her usual candor. “Because I plan on firing questions at you. I also plan on giving you ample time to do the same.”

A gruff laugh. “You’re quite the force to be reckoned with, aren’t you, Casey Woods?”

“I like to think so. But this isn’t about me trying to one-up you. Time is running out. We all know it. If we don’t put our heads together and come up with some answers—and I mean
now
—we’ll lose any shot of finding Krissy Willis.” Casey’s pause was grim. “And when we do find her…I pray she’s still alive.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Day Three

The medical complex was set in a section of countryside just north of Westchester County. The grounds weren’t vast, but they were well maintained, especially the colorful gardens. The buildings were kept clean, even if they appeared a bit Spartan and institutional looking.

The facility was called Sunny Gardens. And it was the best that a middle-class income could afford.

The woman sat in one of the lovely gardens overlooking the park. She gazed across the grounds, not really seeing them. Her mind was wandering to a different place and time. Sometimes her thoughts were vivid and clear, as real as if they were happening right now. Other times, the present and the past melded into one, and, try though she would, she couldn’t separate them. Those days she felt very confused, and she was happy for her medication. She also needed the nurses to explain. Sometimes they were wrong. She knew it. But sometimes they were right. She just wasn’t always sure when.

Today was a fairly good day. She understood where she was. She even had a good idea why. And she was certain that today was Wednesday, which meant she’d have a visitor. Her favorite visitor.

Her little girl.

She worried a lot. Maybe seeing her mama like this would frighten the child. True, she never showed signs of fear. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid. She was always so good at hiding her emotions.

Was that what she was doing now?

The nurse was walking over, a big smile on her face. The name tag on her uniform said Marla Greene.
Marla Greene
—did she know her? She must. Because the nurse was gazing at her with familiar recognition.

“Lunchtime,” she announced cheerily.

“Lunchtime?” The woman shook her head vehemently. “It can’t be. My baby’s not here yet.”

“Maybe she’s coming later today,” Marla Greene suggested. “You know how much work she has.”

“Yes.” The woman beamed. “She’s smart. I gave her extra homework to do.”

“Well, that explains why she’s late. So let’s go inside and have some lunch. You need to keep up your strength for her.”

“Of course. You’re right.” The woman allowed Marla Greene to help her to her feet, and to guide her back to the main facility. “I have to keep things straight in my mind, so I can keep teaching her. I’m the only one who can.”

Patrick drove rapidly up the highway. Ithaca was only four hours and change from his place, and he’d left the city right after breakfast. So he’d be showing up at Plainview Elementary School by noon.

Ryan McKay was obviously damned good at what he did. For over a year after Felicity’s abduction, and sporadically thereafter, Patrick had tried to find a lead on Sidney Akerman’s whereabouts—and come up empty-handed. Of course, today’s technology changed all that by leaps and bounds. So Patrick was cautiously optimistic that he’d locate Hope and Felicity’s father.

And then what? Did the man know anything, or was he just another dead end?

Patrick thought back to the time of the original abduction. Sidney Akerman had been all over the FBI from the get-go. Half the time, he’d been inebriated, but that didn’t stop his relentless quest to find Felicity. He’d cooperated fully, taken and passed his polygraph test and answered all the questions he was asked during his interview. After that, he’d insisted on being told about every lead—until time and stress wore him down and the liquor won out.

Could he have information he didn’t even realize he had—information that would tie these crimes together and shed light on his granddaughter’s kidnapping? Did he even know he
had
a granddaughter?

Regardless of what Patrick learned today, there was a connection between these two abductions. He didn’t know what, how or why. He only knew what his gut was telling him. And he’d learned to listen to his gut.

The sign for his exit appeared just ahead. He signaled, slowed down and turned off the highway, heading directly to his destination—and, hopefully, to some answers.

Claire jerked awake, her body drenched in sweat.

She’d been up all night. She’d gone over her notes all morning. She must have drifted off.

And dreamed.

Not about Krissy. About her stuffed panda, Oreo.

Dragging her fingers through the damp strands of her hair, Claire struggled for total recall. Krissy had been a mere wisp of presence in the dream. But Oreo—Oreo had been vivid. He’d been tangled in the bedcovers. Lonely. Crying. Sad for his best friend and her pain. Wishing his other best friend was here. Maybe together they could make Krissy smile. Maybe her eyes would light up like they always did when the three of them played—after it was bedtime and the lights were out and Krissy’s parents thought she was asleep.

For God’s sake, Claire thought, she was personifying a stuffed animal. Ryan would be laughing his ass off at this one.

How could a toy feel? Or weep? And why had Krissy been so faint in the dream? Almost nonexistent?

Mentally, Claire reached out, trying desperately to drag back the rapidly evaporating images. But they were gone.

They weren’t arbitrary. They meant something. She was sure of it.

Now she had to figure out what.

Hutch wasn’t happy.

Not just because the kidnapping investigation hadn’t turned up a damned thing so far. But because it looked as if this stuck-in-neutral situation wouldn’t be shifting into gear anytime soon. And soon was all they had.

The facts just weren’t coalescing into a viable profile. Not for a ransom kidnapping. Nothing to suggest a serial predator or an attempt at human trafficking. And, so far, no concrete evidence against any of the potential suspects who might be seeking revenge against the Willises.

To make matters worse, he had the distinct feeling that Casey was onto something—something other than her belief that Krissy’s kidnapping was connected to Felicity Akerman’s. The latter part she’d discussed with him. He thought it was a long shot. But he also knew that the Bureau didn’t have the resources to chase after it—not when there was a five-year-old girl out there enduring Lord knows what. So in the unlikely event that Casey’s long shot had merit, Hutch was comfortable leaving it in the hands of Forensic Instincts.

No, this was something more. Casey had another bee in her bonnet. He hadn’t gotten a thing out of her last night in private, nor this morning in public. No surprise there. As intimate as they were, as close as they’d become over the past year, he was a Fed and she was an independent consultant. Their goals might be the same, but their methods sure as hell weren’t.

Which meant nothing good. If Casey was onto something, but had no proof; if she thought her team could get what they needed through nonkosher means, she’d be off and running without a word.

And that worried him—a lot.

Casey wasn’t exactly off and running, but she was keeping a close eye on behavior that had first presented itself after her team meeting last night and before Hutch’s arrival at one o’clock in the morning.

As per usual, she’d checked in with Hope Willis before turning in. The phone call had been odd. Rather than pounding Casey with questions and clinging on to her every word, as Hope usually did, she’d asked very little of her. In fact, she’d been downright curt, her voice high-pitched and agitated, rather than pained and tear filled. She’d cut the conversation short, practically hanging up on Casey.

It was definitely uncharacteristic. Not unheard-of, given the circumstances. Mothers of kidnapping victims often ran through a gamut of emotions. Sometimes those phases of emotions included anger at those who were trying to help but, as yet, had come up empty. People like Casey, who was an easy target, were perfect for lashing out at. That wouldn’t have been off-putting, nor would it have offended Casey in the least.

But this was different. It wasn’t only
what
Hope had said, or even how she’d said it. It was what she
hadn’t
said, and the veiled quality of her tone.

Something was up. And Hope wasn’t ready to tell Casey what.

Had she found out about Edward and Ashley, or was it something to do with Krissy?

The question had plagued Casey all night.

She’d headed up to Armonk at a reasonable hour of the morning, right after verifying with Ryan that he’d successfully arranged for a morning fire drill at Joe’s work site. A diversion that had allowed him to place the tracking device inside Joe’s car and the chip in his cell phone—which Ryan’s spies had revealed Joe constantly misplaced and then scrambled to find. They could now monitor all of the guy’s movements.

Casey’s original plan had been to further interview Vera Akerman in order to flesh out more of the details that Patrick had run by her and the team last night—including all the people who’d been in the Akermans’ lives at the time that Felicity was abducted. It was the only way to get a full picture of the past.

Now, Casey had two reasons for her trip to Armonk.

The first reason fell through. Unfortunately, Vera was in no condition to talk. The stress of what was happening had taken its toll, and she was in her room, heavily medicated on doctor-prescribed sedatives, and under strict orders to rest. Hope was sitting with her, so she, too, was unavailable.

That’s when things started getting weird, and the second reason for Casey’s trip had taken shape.

Walking past the Florida room, she’d spotted Ashley, alone in the room, visibly overwrought as she paced back and forth. Not the way she’d been when Krissy first disappeared. Then, she’d been emotionally freaked out and in shock.

This time she was bouncing off the walls.

First, Hope. Now, Ashley.

It was more than enough.

With that in mind, Casey strolled into the Florida room. “Ashley?”

The nanny’s head snapped around. “Ms. Woods. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Clearly not. You look like you’re vibrating. Has something happened?”

A heartbeat of a pause. “If you mean, is there any news about Krissy, then no. So if I’m vibrating, that’s why.” Ashley gave Casey a stricken look. “It’s been way more than twenty-four hours. Whatever they’re doing to that precious little girl…it makes me sick just to think about it.”

Casey heard the genuine hysteria in Ashley’s voice. But she also picked up on her initial pause. She also picked up on the interesting fact that Ashley spoke about Krissy’s captivity without mentioning that being missing so long usually meant not just torture or sexual abuse, but death.

“Do you know something more than you’re saying, Ashley?” she asked quietly. “More than you knew the last time we spoke?”

The girl glanced at her with eyes as wild as a frightened bird. “Are you back to suspecting me? Because I swear on my life, I’d never harm Krissy.”

“And, as I said last time, I believe you.” Casey decided it was time to win Ashley’s trust. “Can we sit down for a minute?”

Sitting down with Casey looked like the last thing Ashley wanted to do. But she lowered herself dutifully onto the lounger, her back ramrod straight. Casey followed suit, making sure that she faced Ashley so as to watch her expressions, while leaving enough distance between them so the younger girl didn’t feel as if her space were being invaded.

“Do you want to ask me more questions about Krissy?” Ashley began. “Because I told you everything I know and—”

“Actually, I want to reassure you,” Casey interrupted. “I have no intention of sharing your secret.”

Ashley turned white. “My secret?”

“Yes. I won’t tell anyone—including Judge Willis.”

Now Ashley looked bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

“Obviously not what you thought I was talking about. Is there some secret you and Judge Willis share? One I should know about?”

“No.” Ashley answered a little too quickly. “That’s why I’m confused. What secret are you referring—”

“Your relationship with Edward Willis,” Casey supplied. “I know that you two are romantically involved.”

“Oh God.” Ashley sagged into the cushions. “How did you find out?”

You just told me,
Casey thought silently. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know. And I’m not here to judge you. Nor to tell the authorities or Judge Willis. So you can stop freaking out.”

Ashley blew out a breath. “I appreciate that more than you can imagine. I don’t expect you to understand. I never wanted to hurt Judge Willis. And I’m not naive enough to believe this is going anywhere. It just happened. Once. Then again. And before I knew it…let’s just say there’s something incredibly compelling about Edward. His power. His passion. I do believe that what we have is real. I’m not a diversion. But I’m not a forever either. So I hold on to the moments we get, and do the best I can to shove aside my guilt.”

“Like I said, I’m not judging you,” Casey replied. “On the other hand, I am doing you a pretty big favor by keeping quiet. So I think I’m entitled to a favor in return. Like your telling me what’s going on with Judge Willis, and how you factor into it.”

Silence.

Casey rose. “I understand your loyalty to Judge Willis.” That in itself was incongruous, given the girl was sleeping with Hope’s husband. Casey refrained from saying that aloud—although she did pause long enough for the irony of her statement to sink in. “But consider this. I’m not prying. But I think your secret has to do with Krissy. And since I honestly believe that my team is the Willises’ best chance of getting Krissy back alive, I suggest you share it with me. No one and nothing is worth protecting if it endangers that child’s life. Think about it. I’ll check back with you a little later.”

As she walked out of the room, Casey could feel Ashley staring after her, fighting some internal battle.

Casey hoped the right side would win.