The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

was afraid to. The kidnappers said they’d kill Krissy if I…” Hope’s voice broke, and fresh tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Have I pushed them over the edge? Is this what they wanted? Now that they have the two hundred fifty thousand dollars they asked for, will they-”

“I don’t think so,” Hutch interrupted her. “It doesn’t fit the profile of these kidnappers. If they wanted money, and money alone, why would they wait until the FBI and the police were so heavily involved before asking for it? They’d have better luck dealing with you alone, and right away, when the first horrible realization punched you in the gut.” He signaled to Grace, as well as to Peg Harrington, who both strode right over.

Hutch filled them in with a few terse sentences.

“Tell us everything you remember,” Peg instructed Hope.

Once again, Hope repeated the scenario verbatim, from the details of the phone call to the specifics of the drop.

“This plan is way amateur,” Grace murmured. “It doesn’t fit the sophistication of the crime.”

“Neither does the amount of ransom money they demanded,” Hutch added. “They know that you and your husband are good for a lot more than a quarter of a million dollars. And playing you Krissy’s voice on tape? That’s weak. They could have recorded her anywhere and spliced her words together. Again, an amateurish move. For all we know, it was all a hoax, and whoever called you doesn’t even have Krissy. Instead, they freaked you out and made themselves a nice chunk of cash.”

Casey was well aware that Hutch was intentionally softening some components and leaving out some biggies. Like the fact that, if Sidney Akerman’s ties to organized crime had incited Krissy’s abduction, this whole extortion scheme was either a dead end or the horrific tip of the iceberg. Scoring some quick cash wouldn’t cut it. The mob would want major payback, just like they had when they kidnapped Felicity-if they’d kidnapped Felicity. And if they had…the mob didn’t deal in idle kidnapping. They dealt in human trafficking, torture and murder.

Before Casey’s thought process could continue, Edward emerged from the kitchen. Spotting his wife, he went over and caught her arm. “Where were you?”

He was livid at the answer.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped. “That’s why we have the FBI here. Do you realize you could have gotten Krissy killed?”

“We don’t believe that’s the case, Mr. Willis.” Casey stepped in, seeing the white fear return to Hope’s eyes. “Not in such a well-planned, cleverly executed abduction. We think this was just step one, or even an unrelated act.”

Edward’s gaze shot to Casey, suspicion clouding his stare. “You knew about this.”

“No, sir, I most certainly did not.” Casey spoke as respectfully as she could. But she really didn’t like this man. “If I had, I would have told you and the task force about it immediately. I followed Hope. I’d planned to try to stop her. I was too late. I realize how upset you are, and that emotions are running high. But, the bottom line is that Hope wasn’t intentionally undermining you or the FBI. She was behaving like a terrified mother. She wasn’t thinking clearly. And now she’s beating herself up enough for everyone. So I suggest we not waste time with accusations, but move on to finding your daughter. I know that’s what you want. Please, Mr. Willis, let’s just find Krissy as quickly as possible.”

Her words seemed to placate Edward a little, because his jaw snapped shut and he nodded. “Fine.”

The tension was still crackling, when there was a brief knock at the open door, and Patrick stepped inside. Behind him was a nervous, weathered-looking man who had to be Sidney Akerman.

“We’re here,” Patrick announced. “Ready to get started.”

“Sidney?” Vera Akerman rose from the living room sofa and made her way out into the hall. “My God, it is you.” She looked torn between relief and disgust.

Hope harbored no such torn loyalties. She whirled around, facing her father with blazing eyes. “How could you?” she demanded. “How could you compromise your family like that? Felicity and I were innocent children- your children. And now Krissy-she barely knows of your existence, yet she’s become part of your collateral damage. How can you live with yourself?”

“I can’t,” her father replied without flinching. “That’s why I’ve spent my life inside a bottle. And that’s why I’m here now, even knowing you hate my guts. If I can help bring Krissy home safely, I’ll do anything, sacrifice anything, to make it happen.”

“How valiant. Unfortunately, it’s thirty-two years too late for my sister, and my daughter…my baby…” Hope’s voice quavered, and she turned away.

“Hope.” Vera went to her daughter, put her arms around her. “I feel what you feel. But put it aside. We have to find Krissy.”

Sidney met his ex-wife’s gaze, and he was clearly speaking to both her and Hope. “To tell you that I was a stupid, naive pawn would be the truth, but meaningless. It changes nothing. Please-I’m not asking you for forgiveness. I’m just asking you to accept my help. Let me look at mug shots. Let me work with a sketch artist. Let me try to aid this investigation.”

Hope stepped away from her mother and dashed the tears off her cheeks. “That’s why you’re here,” she informed Sidney. She gestured toward the group of waiting professionals. “It certainly isn’t for a family reunion. So go see what you can do.”

Sidney was entrenched in mug shots and recaps when Casey’s cell phone rang.

“Hey,” Ryan greeted her. “Marc called and told me what’s going on. Sidney Akerman there yet?”

“He got here about an hour ago,” Casey replied quietly. “I’m not sure what’s going on. The FBI’s not in a sharing mood. They’re pissed at me about the ransom drop. By their rules, I should have shared my suspicions with them before I took off to follow Hope.”

“Yeah, well, by their rules I wouldn’t be calling you with this interesting bit of info.”

“I’m listening.”

“Henry Kenyon’s construction company was bought up after he died. Guess who the buyer was? Bennato Construction, employer of one Joe Deale.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. And from what I’m pulling up, Bennato is connected-mob connected.”

“This one I’m going to share,” Casey said.

“By all means.” Ryan chuckled. “It might get you back into Hutch’s good graces.”

“Goodbye, Ryan.”

“One more thing. When the FBI wants to pick up Deale, he’s at the Laketown Bridge. They’re repaving.”

“Thanks.” Casey ended the call on her BlackBerry.

“That was one of my associates,” she announced to the task force. “Evidently, the construction company Sidney worked for was bought up after the owner died.”

Guy Adams shot her an impatient look. “So?”

“So the company who bought it is Bennato. I’m sure you know they’re reputed to have mob connections.”

“We’re aware of that.”

“Wait a minute.” Hutch rapidly scanned his notes. “Claudia Mitchell’s fiance works for Bennato.”

“Exactly,” Casey replied. “Joe Deale. I doubt that’s a coincidence. Nor is the fact that Bennato recently repaved the parking lot and playground of Krissy’s elementary school. Joe worked on that project.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“How is it you have access to all that information?” Guy asked in a clipped tone.

“That’s not important. I just do. I also know he’s at the Laketown Bridge right now, working on a repaving job.”

“Let’s bring him in-now.” Peg was already at the door as she spoke.

Hope was thoughtful for a moment after the handful of agents peeled out. Her brows were knit together in concentration.

“Bennato,” she murmured. “Edward, didn’t you represent someone by that name a while back?”

Edward cleared his throat. “More than a while. Over a decade.” This was one he clearly wished his wife had forgotten.