The Girl Who Disappeared Twice

own way-even if, like this time, it meant Casey and her group vanishing into thin air.

His jaw tightened. “I don’t understand, Ms. Woods. My wife hired you.”

“True. But there’s a stipulation. I need my answer. What is it I’m not being told?”

Hope stared at the floor for a minute. The hard swallow that she gave, the way she steeled herself, and the way she shifted into autopilot told Casey that she’d relayed this story countless times, but that it never ceased to hurt.

“My sister Felicity was kidnapped thirty-two years ago,” she said quietly, her voice quavering from emotional strain. “We were six. She was sleeping next to me when it happened. I was chloroformed. So was she. Only it was Felicity the kidnapper chose to take. I’ve never understood why. We are-” a painful pause “- were identical twins. Very few people could tell us apart-unless they were familiar with our personalities. Which, to me, says the kidnapper was someone who knew us at least fairly well. And before you ask, Felicity’s body was never recovered. The case was labeled cold, and closed two years after the abduction. Now, history is repeating itself…with my baby.” Choking up, Hope pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob.

“Now you see why I didn’t want you to pursue this line of questioning,” Edward snapped, once again putting an arm around his wife. The gesture seemed oddly stiff, even staged. “Dredging up a painful incident from Hope’s past is pointless.”

“I disagree.” Casey quickly processed the implications of what she was being told, even as her gaze flickered once again to the kitchen doorway. “It explains that this terrifying crime is even more terrifying for your wife than it might be for another woman. Two treasured loved ones kidnapped in a lifetime-the first unsolved, and occurring when your wife was an impressionable, young child? Scars like that don’t heal, Mr. Willis. Especially when the victim is an identical twin, who most people claim is like half of a whole. And now, a child-the very heart and soul of a mother. I can see why Judge Willis would be coming apart at the seams, reliving the past, and willing to go to any extreme to avoid a repeat of it.”

“So you understand.” Hope scrutinized Casey, her gaze filled with agonized pain.

“I do,” Casey said without hesitation. “I understand your fear. And I understand what you weren’t saying on the phone. Consider yourself our top-priority client.”

Hope literally sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

Casey wasted no time in getting down to business. “Your babysitter-it’s Ashley, right?” She gestured in the direction of the kitchen.

Startled by the abrupt change in subject, Hope looked up and followed Casey’s stare. Edward’s head snapped around, too.

“My babysitter?” Hope repeated. “Yes, it’s Ashley Lawrence. Although she’s not really a babysitter. She’s been Krissy’s nanny since the day Krissy came home from the hospital. So we don’t think of her as an employee. She’s family. And she adores Krissy.”

“All the more reason for my curiosity. If everything you’re saying is true, why has she spent the entire time since I walked in here on her cell phone, arguing with someone?”

“It’s probably her boyfriend.” Edward waved away the observation. “I’m sure he’s unhappy about her decision to stay here until we have news about Krissy.”

“I see.” Casey could sense Edward’s escalating tension. “So he’s a serious boyfriend. What’s his name?”

“Frank. Frank Barber.”

Casey jotted that down. “You mentioned that Krissy’s stuffed panda was stolen from the house sometime today. Did the police find evidence of a break-in?”

“None.”

“And no one had access to the house except Ashley, who claims that nobody came by here all day, and who’s now arguing with her boyfriend.”

“Oh, no.” Vehemently, Hope denied the notion that Ashley could be involved. “As I said, Ashley adores Krissy, and the feeling is mutual. The poor girl was crying hysterically when I got home. She’s in shock. She’s probably talking to her boyfriend for emotional support.”

“I don’t think so. She seems more agitated than distraught. Agitated and, if I’m reading her body language right, scared.” Casey pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe she just realized she bit off more than she could chew, and that events are spiraling out of control.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Ms. Woods,” Hope insisted. “Ashley’s not capable of harming Krissy.”

“Maybe she doesn’t have to be-at least not directly.” Casey’s gaze shifted to the pile of sophisticated-looking textbooks sitting on the kitchen table. “It looks like Ashley’s in grad school. Unless you’re paying her a fortune, I assume she has outstanding student loans. What does Frank do for a living?” The ensuing silence gave her her answer. “Nothing lucrative, I take it.”

“He dabbles,” Hope replied, reluctance and wavering trust evident in her tone. “He’s a part-time bartender, and a part-time bouncer. Nothing concrete.”

“And nothing a huge windfall wouldn’t help in a big way.” A poignant pause. “Think about it-a vulnerable young woman in love with the wrong man. A young woman who has direct access to your home, your schedules and your daughter.”

For the first time, Casey’s gaze flickered coolly to Edward, who-as Casey had anticipated-had gone very, very still. “I’d say that’s a solid enough lead to check into, wouldn’t you, Counselor?”

His jaw was working, but his gaze pierced hers with laser intensity. “I’d say that’s your call, Ms. Woods.”

CHAPTER FOUR

It’s been a terrifying day. I know you’re scared. But you’re such a special child.

Unique. Precious.

The sleeping pill is working. Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is even. Your long blond hair is tousled, spread out on the pillow. I wish your lashes weren’t spiky and wet with the tears you cried for hours, or that your neck wasn’t damp with the perspiration caused by your struggles.

You look like you belong here. Which is good, since there’s no escape. Even though right now that’s all you’ll want to do.

When you wake up, you’ll cry. Beg. And finally withdraw. You’ll have that haunted look in your expressive blue-green eyes.

It’s my job to erase that. To change your mind about being here. To make you want this to be your home.

I will. I’m the only one who can.

I got all the tools I need from your book bag. You’ll have nothing to do but comply.

Sweet dreams, Krissy. It will all begin when you wake up.

Ashley hastily disconnected her call the minute Casey walked into the kitchen. She looked jumpy-like someone who was either at the end of her rope, or had something to hide-as she met Casey’s stare.

“Hi…” she said in a tentative voice.

“Hello, Ashley.” Casey extended her hand. “My name is Casey Woods, and my organization is working with the Willises to help find Krissy.”

“Organization?” Ashley shook Casey’s hand, her own skin warm from holding the cell phone, and damp with nerves. “You’re not with the police or the FBI?”

“Nope. I’m with Forensic Instincts. We’re a private company, specializing in solving cases like these. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Ashley’s tongue wet her lower lip. “I’ve already told the authorities everything I know.”

“I’m sure you have. But since my colleagues and I just arrived, I’d appreciate if you could fill me in, as well.” Casey didn’t have to turn around to know that the Willises had come up behind her and walked into the kitchen. Nor did she have to hear their footsteps. She could read it all over Ashley’s face, see it in her eyes as her gaze darted past Casey, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and an appeal for help.