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 stuffe
d 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.