The Girl Who Disappeared Twice. Andrea Kane
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the Willises’ long hours, I spend tons of time with her. And she really is the best kid in the world. Cheerful. Smart. She’s only in kindergarten, but she’s got a second grade reading level. She adds and subtracts faster than I do. And you should see what a whiz she is on the computer. She spends hours on Club Penguin. She chats on it. She colors pictures on it … she’s awesome. And her penguin avatar is super cool.”
“I’m sure it is.” Casey rose. “I think we’ve covered everything. Let’s go inside for an update. Oh, and Ashley.” she added as the younger woman stood up. “Krissy’s lucky to have you in her life. You’re a wonderful nanny.”
“Thank you.” Ashley gave a wan smile. “Now if I could only bring her home.”
The debriefing session was breaking up when Casey walked into the house. The first thing she did was to seek out Special Agent Peg Harrington.
“Hi, Peg.”
“Casey.” The trim, forty-two-year-old woman with the short dark hair and intense expression greeted her. “Don told me the Willises had hired you. I don’t need to tell you the rules.”
“No, you don’t. This is your case. My team and I are here to help my clients, and to support you in any way we can. All I need to know is how you’re laying out the chain of command.”
Peg cleared her throat. “Mr. Willis would prefer that the leadership came from the New York Field Office. So I’ll be heading things up, with Ken Barkley as my co-case agent. But the White Plains RA’s Task Force and the North Castle Police Department have good people on board, as well. And, of course, you saw the CARD team arrive. Plus, two agents from BAU-3 should be here in an hour,” she added, referring to the division of the Behavioral Analysis Unit that dealt with crimes against children. “We’re leaving no stone unturned.”
Casey nodded. “Anything from the crime scene yet?”
“No. The entire school staff is being interviewed, particularly those who witnessed the incident, and the car-pool mom who had a bird’s-eye view. So far, we’ve come up empty. The Willises are about to release a statement to the media, and issue a plea on TV. We’re setting up a tip line for anyone with a potential lead to call in—anyone who might have spotted a silver GMC Acadia with a child inside and the letters ‘X’ and ‘M’ in the license plate.”
“A suburban car in a suburban neighborhood,” Casey mused. “Doesn’t exactly raise any red flags.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right. Not only that, we’ve got two parents who have more than the average number of grudge-holders who’d love to strike them where it hurts. And what’s more powerful than taking their only child?”
Casey grimaced. “Not a thing.” She glanced around and watched the FBI team coordinating plans. “Look, Peg, we’re probably going to overlap in our suspect interviews. So if there’s anyone you want us to talk to, anyone on that list you think we’re well suited to gain insights from, just say the word. Like I said, the list of potential suspects is a mile long. And we all want the same thing—Krissy’s safe return. So use us as you need to.”
“I will.” Peg had seen Casey in action enough times to know that she didn’t give a damn who got credit for the win. On the flip side, she was equally unmotivated by the rules of bureaucracy. And that sometimes ruffled feathers. “Right now, we’re dividing up the list. Once we do, I won’t hesitate to take you up on your offer. Count on it.”
Once Peg had headed back into the tense huddle that was her team, Casey scanned the area for her own people. Marc was in the hallway, talking to a couple of C-20 agents. Ryan was nowhere to be found, but Casey suspected he was upstairs in Krissy’s room, probing things with the agent assigned to analyze Krissy’s computer for forensic evidence.
Hope and Edward were currently being prepped for the statement they’d be issuing within the hour on TV. Ashley was right beside them, listening intently. Her physical positioning and her body language were very telling. Casey made a mental note of both.
She then turned and made her way through the lower level of the house. She planned to wait until she could talk to Hope and Edward before she left. After that, when she and her team were armed with enough details to kick into high gear, she planned to drive over to Krissy’s school and start conducting some in-depth interviews.
Strolling from room to room, she didn’t expect to enter the eerily quiet playroom only to find Claire Hedgleigh sitting cross-legged on the carpet, rolling a crayon between her fingers while her other palm was pressed to a partially finished picture in an open coloring book.
Tears were trickling down her cheeks.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mommy?
Where are you? I’m scared. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how I got here.
The picture I finger-painted for you in school is drying. My book bag zipper got stuck. So the bell rang two times before I came out. I was surprised to hear you honk the horn. Surprised but happy. You left work early. You left that bench you always sit on just so we could play. You hadn’t even changed out of the black suit I helped you pick out this morning, so you could get to school before Olivia’s mommy took me home.
Now I remember that smelly scarf. I tried to tell you it was stinky, but you were talking. Not to me. To somebody else. The car kept moving. I woke up a little. You gave me a drink to make the yucky taste go away.
I feel funny. Am I sick? This is not my bed. And these aren’t my pajamas. I don’t like pajamas. I get hot and they stick to me. I like nightgowns. Where’s my nightgown?
I don’t like it here. Was that Daddy’s voice before? Is he still here? Are you?
What if you both left?
What if there’s no one here but me and Oreo?
I keep calling your name, but you don’t come. I called Ashley, too. She didn’t answer. I don’t want her anyway. I don’t want Daddy either. I want you.
Where are you, Mommy?
Please come.
Claire squeezed her eyes shut, reflexively recoiling as the little girl’s fear and confusion flowed through her.
The child was becoming more aware. The cobwebs were clearing from her head. And from Claire’s. Afraid. So afraid.
Krissy was crying. Big droplets on her eyelashes, cheeks and chin. She was wiping them away with the backs of her hands. The top of Oreo’s head was wet from the tears she couldn’t catch.
Panic. She was starting to panic. Yelling for her mommy. Sobbing … begging …
“Claire?”
At first the voice didn’t penetrate. Then Claire heard it, realized someone was calling her. She jerked back to her current surroundings, blinking as she glanced behind her and saw Casey.
“Are you okay?” Casey asked.
“No.” Slowly, Claire rose to her feet, unaware of the dampness on her face. “Krissy is terrified. She doesn’t know where she is. And she keeps calling for her mommy.”
Casey didn’t bat a lash. “You could sense what she was feeling. Was she reliving anything that happened? Anything you could pick up on?”
A slight nod. “Whoever took her was wearing a classic black suit similar to the ones her mother wears to work. Her hair was blond and parted on the side, just like Judge Willis’s.”
“Was it real? Or a wig?”
“I don’t know. Krissy didn’t have a feeling about that….” Claire spread her hands wide in an uncertain gesture. “The woman was wearing dark sunglasses. She was clearly