CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The hamlet of New Hamburg was small.
Still, the surge of law enforcement officials spread out fast, intent on covering every square inch as rapidly as possible. They were fully aware that only a short time had passed since Felicity had arrived.
But a lot could happen in that brief interval.
Patrick joined the search party, going from house to house and street to street. Ryan joined them, but he was also glued to Hope Willis’s side as her appointed bodyguard and warden to make sure that she didn’t take off on her own and do something stupid.
Hope fought her confinement tooth and nail. But, in the end, she had no choice. She couldn’t outsmart Ryan, and she certainly couldn’t overpower him. And, if it was a choice between waiting in the van or not being nearby when they did find Krissy, there was no decision to make.
Casey teamed up with Marc, took Hero and began their search. Marc had the professional rescue skills, and Casey had the trailing experience with bloodhounds. As a human scent evidence dog, Hero was the most qualified of all. The three of them made a formidable team. And they were hell-bent on finding Krissy.
“Linda kept Felicity in a quiet house in the country,” Casey said as she and Marc let Hero guide them. “Felicity would want to replicate that environment as closely as possible.”
“That describes most of this hamlet,” Marc returned.
“True. But Ryan checked the map. There’s a section of houses in wooded areas, with little visibility to neighbors. That’s where I’d start.”
“I’m sure that’s where Ryan is starting, too.”
“But he’s limited by his duties as a bodyguard. We’ll probably beat him there. If not, we’ll all split up by street.”
Hero was already pacing along, sniffing intently as he did.
“How much geographic territory can Hero’s nose cover?” Marc asked.
“From what Hutch has told me and from what I’ve read, it’s pretty awesome. He can search fifteen linear miles, maybe more, and narrow it down to half a block.”
Marc whistled. “That’s amazing.”
“It certainly is.” A half smile. “Then again, he
“True,” Marc said drily. “We are an extraordinary bunch.”
Once they reached the wooded area Casey had described, the terrain became difficult-rocks and dirt covering the ground, the sharp branches of trees impeding their progress and scratching their faces.
Casey’s cell phone rang.
“We found the house,” Ryan told her. “But there’s no one here. The basement is set up just the way Claire described. And the back door is open. They definitely took off in a hurry.”
“Where are you?” Casey demanded, checking the map Ryan had printed for her.
“Thirty-nine Pine Street. But there’s no point in coming here. The task force called ERT. They’ll examine the crime scene. We’ve got to get out there and find Krissy.”
Casey was scanning the map. She stopped when she found Pine Street. “We’re not all that far.” She glanced at her handheld GPS. “We’re in the woods just west of you.”
“Okay, well you should be joined by a handful of agents in a matter of minutes. So don’t freak out when you hear them coming. But keep looking. Felicity took Krissy in one of two directions-east or west. They’re the only sections surrounding her house that are wooded. There are trees to the north and south, but they lead to the street and, eventually, to other houses. A group of local cops are covering that territory, but I doubt it’ll lead to anything. Peg took a team to the east. Bob and Hutch are moving west. Patrick and I are about to join them.”
“With Hope in tow?”
“No choice,” Ryan replied in a clipped, coded response.
“Got it.” Casey snapped to as Hero began to strain at his lead. “Ryan, I’ve gotta go. Hero’s picked up a fresh scent trail.”
“I’m on my way.”
Marc was already following Hero’s lead, winding his way through the woods as quietly as he could. Casey hurried until she caught up.
There was the definite crunch of footsteps in the not-too-remote distance. It could be the agents. Or it could be Felicity.
Judging from Hero’s reaction, it was the latter.
Hero was most emphatically “in odor,” as the FBI called it. He climbed over the rocks and weaved through the trees, pulling at the lead until Marc had to pick up speed.
“Krissy?” called out a frantic female voice just ahead of them. “Is that you? Please, princess, answer me!”
Everything happened at once.
Hero lunged forward. The pounding of a surge of footsteps raced up behind them. And a streak of movement flashed through the trees in front of them.
A woman. Blonde. Slim. Frantic.
Felicity.
“FBI! Stop where you are!” Casey heard Hutch’s command even as she felt him rush by her, weapon raised. Peg and a dozen other cops and agents followed suit, forming a half circle around the immediate area.
The woman froze.
“Help me,” she begged plaintively, not even trying to escape. “I can’t find my daughter.”
“We’ll find her for you.” Peg marched over to Felicity, holstering her gun and drawing Felicity’s hands behind her back so she could handcuff her.
Felicity stood by docilely, her face scratched and tear streaked, her eyes glazed, damp with worry. She looked like a frail, broken doll.
“Where did you last see your…daughter?” Hutch went along with the charade, more than aware that now was not the time to slam Felicity with reality.
“In the house. She ran away. I don’t know where she is. She could be hurt. Oh, God, this is all my fault. Please, please find her. I can’t leave her out there. The world is ugly. And Krissy is beautiful. A princess. Save her.”
“We will.” Hutch turned to Marc. “Do you have anything of Krissy’s with you?”
“
Before Marc could answer, a shaken voice brought their heads around. Hope was walking slowly toward them, Krissy’s T-shirt extended. She was staring at Felicity. Her mouth opened and closed several times, as if she wanted to say something but didn’t know what or how.
Felicity gazed back at her, confusion and wonder flashing across her face. “Hope?” she asked in a faraway voice. “Are you real? I thought that was you at the house. Mama said it wasn’t. She said I was imagining it, that I was just picturing Krissy and me together. But she was wrong, wasn’t she? You’re real.”
“Yes, Felicity, I’m real,” Hope answered in a shattered voice. She released Krissy’s T-shirt into Hutch’s hands, watching as he ran forward and waved it under Hero’s snout.
He and Marc took off with the determined bloodhound.
Hope’s stare shifted back to Felicity. She studied her sister’s depleted state, her mental deterioration, and all the accusations and venom she’d been harboring drained out of her. “Did you take good care of her?” she managed, remembering the laughter of a six-year-old twin who’d been stolen from her life.
“I tried.” Tears were sliding down Felicity’s cheeks. “But not hard enough. She got away. I-I don’t understand.” She lowered her head, breaking down entirely. “I don’t understand.”
Hope raised her head, and her gaze met Casey’s. She looked ill. “Will they find Krissy?” she managed. “Please?”
“There’s not a doubt in my mind,” Casey replied. “She can’t be far.”
