The Girl Who Disappeared Twice (Forensic Instincts 1)

“Big Macs and fries?” Marc couldn’t help ribbing him. “That’s more fat and calories than a full day at the gym could burn. And you skipped this morning’s workout. Careful. Lose your six-pack and you’ll lose your women.”

“It’s a one-shot deal,” Ryan retorted, taking the McDonald’s bag from Casey. “And I’ve seen you scarf down two or three chili dogs when you’re desperate enough. So cram it.”

“Cut it out, you two,” Casey said impatiently. “We’re not here to discuss your high-protein diets. Linda’s guest isn’t here yet, is she?”

“Nope.” Ryan shook his head. “The patients just finished lunch. Linda will be on her way out to the garden within the hour. Her daughter should be showing up soon after. Apparently, they try to avoid the construction chaos. And, since the crew breaks up between three and four o’clock, I’m expecting our accomplice around then.”

Marc arched a brow. “You found all this out from the nurses you charmed at the front desk?”

“Some of it, yes. The rest, I found out from Linda herself.”

“You spoke to her?”

“Yup.” Ryan munched on a Big Mac while he spoke. “She was right there when I planted Gecko. She’s pretty out of it. And the only thing on her mind was seeing her daughter and getting us workmen out of the way in time for her visit.”

Hero was eyeing Ryan’s burger and smacking his lips.

Casey gave him a chew toy to distract him and thoughtfully scratched his ears. “If she’s that out of touch with the world around her, it means her accomplice is actively running the show—just as we suspected. And she’s keeping Krissy around for a reason. I’m just not sure what it is.”

“Unless Linda has cash reserves we don’t know about,” Marc proposed. “If that’s the case, it would be a sweet deal for this woman. All she has to do is feed and house a five-year-old in some secret location, probably bring Linda some photos here and there, and, at the same time, masquerade as her older daughter. Maybe she got Linda to give her power of attorney, in which case, she can do whatever she wants with Linda’s assets.”

“I did a pretty thorough job of checking out Linda Turner’s bank records—both her real and assumed names,” Ryan replied. “Nothing impressive there. But that doesn’t account for jewelry, antiques or anything else of value she might have. So, yeah, Marc, your theory is definitely possible.” With that, he switched Gecko out of sleep mode and into active mode. “We’re about to find out.”

Ten minutes ticked by.

Abruptly, Casey peered over Ryan’s shoulder at the laptop monitor. “Here she comes.”

A nurse was wheeling Linda Turner over to her usual spot, chatting pleasantly with her as they went. She settled her patient comfortably, promising “Lorna” that she’d send her daughter over the instant she arrived. Then, she turned and retraced her steps back to the main building.

Linda gazed peacefully around, and began to murmur the names of the various flowers surrounding her. Some she got right, some were so far-off that she might as well be speaking a foreign language. But she was happy and very excited.

Casey’s cell phone rang. She frowned, staring down at it. The caller ID said “Private.”

“I’d better see who this is,” she said reluctantly. “If it’s Peg, and I ignore her again, I’ll be in deep shit.” She put the phone to her ear. “Casey Woods.”

“It’s me,” Patrick said without preamble. “Just a heads-up. Peg is pissed as hell that you’re nowhere to be found, since she knows very well what that means. Meanwhile, she put the pieces together. She spoke to the woman in human resources who interviewed Claudia Mitchell. She explained the urgency of the situation and Sunny Gardens is willing to cooperate without a warrant, and with only Peg’s promise to keep the information they share with her in the strictest of confidence. So it looks like your time is up.”

“Dammit.” Casey dragged a hand through her hair. “Is the task force on their way to Sunny Gardens?”

“Not yet. Getting the information is one thing. Questioning the suspect is another. The North Castle cops are going for a warrant. The FBI is going to the U.S. Attorney’s Office. But between Krissy Willis’s kidnapping and Claudia Mitchell’s murder, I doubt they’ll have trouble getting what they need. Not with time being of the essence. So whatever you’re doing, do it fast.”

“Thank you, Patrick.” Casey was truly grateful for his cooperation. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that,” he retorted. “Peg asked me where you were. I told her you were pursuing a lead, but that you’d refused to give me the details.”

“That’s true.”

“Yeah, but I left out a hell of a lot.”

“You won’t be sorry. We’re a few steps ahead of the task force—and closer to finding Krissy Willis.”

“That better be true. Oh, and by the way, your boyfriend is ripping mad. I wouldn’t count on a candlelight dinner anytime soon.”

Casey winced. She knew exactly how pissed Hutch must be. And she wasn’t looking forward to the confrontation.

“No surprise,” she told Patrick. “But I appreciate the heads-up. I’ll be sure to polish up my suit of armor for the firing squad. In the meantime, I have to go now. Thanks again.”

She disconnected the call, her gaze glued to the computer screen as she waited for the telltale moment.