The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

hand.

“Take your time,” Casey instructed. “Hero and I will go upstairs to Krissy’s bedroom. I want to collect a few more of Krissy’s things that have her smells. Hero’s sense of smell is unbelievable. He could pick up her scent from miles away. That can only help us.”

Casey was just about to head upstairs when Patrick arrived.

“Where do things stand?” he demanded.

Quickly, Casey filled him in, then suggested that he, too, review the photos and see if anyone struck him from three decades ago.

“Consider it done,” he said, perching behind Vera. “If the offender is here, I’ll spot him.”

Once upstairs in Krissy’s bedroom, Casey put on latex gloves to do her work. She’d covered half the room, scooped up Krissy’s pillowcase-which she let Hero sniff-and had gathered a pair of soccer cleats and a T-shirt, which she’d packed carefully away for later scent-pad collection, when her BlackBerry rang.

A swift glance at the caller ID told her it was the office.

“Ryan?” she asked into the phone.

“Yup. I’ve got something for you, straight from the copying machine at Bennato Construction. And it’s a doozy. Get this. You know that medical facility, Sunny Gardens, that Claudia Mitchell’s calendar said she interviewed at just before her death?”

“Yes.”

“Well, guess who just happens to be constructing the new wing there?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Bingo-Bennato. And it gets better. From the paperwork I’m seeing off their copier, Bennato is screwing them big-time. They’re using substandard materials, cutting corners in construction, you name it. Plus, it looks like they’re paying off the inspectors, ensuring that they look the other way. It’s quite an operation Bennato’s got going there.”

Casey sank down in a chair, Hero beside her. “The illegalities are no surprise. But the fact that Claudia Mitchell was at the place just before she was killed, that’s no coincidence. And it changes everything. I assumed her killer had followed her upstate. Now I’m wondering if this murder was more spontaneous than planned.”

“My thoughts exactly. She went for an interview. She might have inadvertently seen something, or someone, she shouldn’t have. Or maybe that someone saw her, and figured that she and/or Deale might be ratting Bennato out to the Feds.”

“Maybe just doesn’t cut it anymore,” Casey said. “Did any of the paperwork list the foreman or any of the workers who are on this particular construction project?”

“The foreman, yes. His name’s Bill Parsons. He’s been working for Bennato for a dozen years.”

“We need to talk to Parsons.”

“Marc and I are one step ahead of you. Marc’s already on his way to the construction site.”

“So’s the task force, Ryan.”

“We know. But this is Marc we’re talking about. He’ll slither in and out, get what we need, and do it all without being spotted by anyone.”

“True.” Thank God it was Marc handling this. No one else could pull it off. They’d be screwed. Because if the FBI spotted a member of her team on the grounds, they’d demand to know how they got the information on Bennato and Parsons first. They wouldn’t like the answer, and Forensic Instincts wouldn’t like the consequences.

The wisest thing was to stay out of the Bureau’s way on this one. Let them follow protocol. That way, whatever they uncovered would be admissible in court when they went after Bennato. Casey and her team’s job was to find Krissy Willis, not to bury the Vizzini family.

“Marc will get answers out of Parsons any way he has to,” she said, telling Ryan what he already knew. “I almost feel sorry for the bastard.”

“Yeah. A low-level mob soldier up against a Navy SEAL. Not promising for the foreman.”

Krissy. I don’t know what to do.

I’ve followed my instructions to a tee. I’ve eliminated obstacles, kept us well hidden, and done everything in my power to win you over. I thought I was making headway. But nothing works.

Even the special world I created for you didn’t get the reaction I’d hoped for. The software I designed is one-of-a-kind, just like you. It’s better and more original than your all-time-favorite Club Penguin. And yet, even though you obeyed me and went to play with it, you did it without the sparkle in your eyes that I expected. Silently. Listlessly. Not like when you’re playing with Oreo and Ruby. They’re the only ones who make you smile.

At least you’re eating a little better, but you’re not sleeping. The room is still strange. The monsters are still terrifying.

I want to soothe them away. But you won’t let me get near you, not even with the locket and perfume. You start to cry the minute you see and smell them. And you shut down when I mention the word “mommy.”

Yet you call out her name and cry for her every night.

I keep telling myself how short a time it’s been.

I try not to think about what’s being taken from you, day after day. I try to remind myself of the instructions. But things are different. The caring is different. No one can help or protect you but me.

I’ve got to remember that. I’ve got to have patience.

But for how long?

Hutch pulled Casey aside the minute she and Hero made their way downstairs.

“What’s going on?” he demanded.

She gave him a cool look. “Hero and I were just doing a once-over in Krissy’s room. I wanted him to be able to sniff out-”

“I know what you were doing with Hero,” Hutch interrupted. “I meant, what’s with the icy treatment? What are you so pissed off about?”

Casey glanced around to ensure they were alone. “Apparently, it’s okay to sleep with me, but not to give me a major heads-up like the fact that Claudia Mitchell was murdered. I’d understand if the information was classified, but it wasn’t, and you had no problem calling your buddy, Marc. So you weren’t keeping it from Forensic Instincts, just from me.”

“That’s what you’re ripping mad about?” Hutch sounded incredulous. “Obviously, I knew Marc would tell you. Your team is tighter than our squads.”

“But?” Casey prompted. “I’m not a former BAU-er? Is that it?”

“No, that’s not it.” It was Hutch’s turn to glance around. Then, he dropped his voice to protect their privacy. “It’s because of our personal relationship that I didn’t call you directly. The Bureau understands my continued contact and loyalty towards Marc-we were once colleagues. But you and I are different. You’re the private sector, earning big bucks without having to follow the rules. It’s bad enough that half the world knows we’re involved. The last thing I want to do is ruffle feathers to the point where the FBI stops feeling so magnanimous toward Forensic Instincts. Up until now, it’s been an amenable, if rocky, road. But your team walks a fine line between acceptable and off-limits. My giving you a direct jump on Claudia Mitchell’s murder would definitely rock the boat.”

Casey waved her hand in frustrated disbelief. “So even though the entire task force knows that Marc is going to come straight to me with the news, it’s okay because Marc is former BAU and because the two of you aren’t hitting the sheets together.”

Hutch’s lips twitched at her succinct conclusion. “That about sums it up.”

“Unbelievable.” Casey dragged her fingers through her hair. “Another reminder of why I hate bureaucracy. Fine.” A thoughtful pause. “You and I really have to have a talk. In retrospect, I should have anticipated this kind of thing, but, since this is the first case we’ve worked so closely together on, I didn’t. We need to set some ground