The Girl Who Disappeared Twice (Forensic Instincts 1)

Casey had sat beside her, offering an occasional word of reassurance, but mostly remaining quiet, aware that nothing she could say would ease Hope’s anguish. The only cure for her torment would be having her daughter home. And that’s what this stakeout was all about.

The minutes ticked by, and three o’clock came and went—along with Felicity’s perfect opportunity to drive through the gates and get lost in the lineup of cars. Casey’s whole team was starting to get antsy, even Hero, who whined with the keen instinct of knowing something wasn’t right.

“Why isn’t she here yet?” Hope asked in a high, thin voice. “The chief administrator said she always arrives between two and three.”

“I don’t know,” Casey said honestly. “Maybe she hit traffic.”

Hope swallowed hard. “Or maybe she got wind of what’s going on and is staying away.”

Casey wasn’t happy. There was merit to Hope’s concern. But there was also budding hysteria in her voice. And that could result in nothing but trouble.

“Hope, listen to me,” she said quietly. “You can’t allow yourself to panic. We’re going to find Krissy. Think positively. And don’t go to pieces on me.”

A tight nod.

“We’re in business,” Marc suddenly announced from the passenger seat. He pointed out the window where a blue Ford Fiesta was rounding the curve. It slowed down and turned into the main parking lot. The license plate and the driver’s profile told them all they needed to know.

“It’s Felicity.” Hope made a move toward the door, and Casey pulled her back, signaling to Marc with her eyes.

He locked the doors.

“Don’t even think about it,” Casey warned Hope in as gentle a tone as possible. “If Felicity sees you, it’ll blow everything we’ve worked for. Just stay put.”

“She’s scanning the area,” Ryan noted. He was sitting in the back of the van with his laptop, ready to send the necessary signal to Gecko.

“Maybe that’s why she’s late,” Marc commented. “She’s not a stupid woman. Even though it would be harder for us to spot her in a crowd, it’s far easier for her to spot us in the quiet aftermath of a shift change. Ryan’s right. She is scanning the area.”

Clearly, both men were right. Because Felicity parked in the visitors’ lot, then exited her car carrying a shopping bag, with a tote bag slung over her shoulder. She looked both ways several times, then turned to peer behind her.

Satisfied that no one was lying in wait, she picked up the pace, crossing over to the front walk and heading into the main entrance of the building.

Ryan glanced at his watch. “She should be showing up in the garden in the next five minutes.” He cued Gecko up, gave him the necessary command. “All set. Now we just sit back and watch the video show from inside the van.”

As he spoke, a view of the garden—and Linda—appeared on the screen. She looked tired, her head resting against the back of the chair, her gaze fixed on the red ribbon around her finger. “Soon,” they heard her tell the string. “My

baby will be here soon.”

As if on cue, Felicity began to walk over. Even before the monitor confirmed that fact, it was apparent by Linda’s reaction. She sat up straighter, smiling and waving her hand.

“Hello, Mama.” Felicity leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Then she sat down in the opposite chair and gave her the shopping bag, simultaneously placing her tote bag beside her on the grass.

“I brought you some of your favorites,” she announced, gesturing at the shopping bag. “Apples straight from the apple orchard, a box of cider doughnuts and two new nightgowns, both sleeveless and nylon, just the way you like them. I also brought you some new books to read, and this month’s gardening magazines.”

That made Linda happy. She leaned forward, lighting up as she surveyed the contents of the bag. “You’re so good to me. Such a good girl.”

“Here’s some more red string.” Felicity reached into her tote bag and produced a large spool of it. “Make sure you have them tie a piece around your finger next Wednesday morning.”

“I never forget,” Linda said proudly. “I always remind them.” She gazed firmly at Felicity. “Did you finish all your math homework? I can check it for you now.”

“That’s okay.” Felicity looked like a small child seeking her mommy’s approval. “I already checked the answers in the back of the book. I got most of them right. That’s because you helped me last time.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Linda beamed. “And I know you never look at the answers before you finish. You’re such a good girl.”

Felicity sat up straighter. Oddly, there were tears in her eyes, as if she knew on some level that the mother she’d loved was slipping away. “Do you know what else? I got a hundred on my spelling test. I wrote down all the words you taught me and the right way to spell them. I double-checked them when I was finished. I even used the dictionary. They were all right.”

“I’m so proud.” Linda clapped her hands together.

Felicity reached into her tote bag again, and pulled out some computer-generated photos. “I brought you pictures of our little girl. I know how excited you are about seeing her. I duplicated the photo that came out best, and put it in a frame. It’s in your shopping bag. You can keep it right beside you on your night table.”