It was seven in the morning, and it was Marc’s turn to walk Hero.
He didn’t mind. The dog was smart as a whip, with a sniffer to match.
They returned to the brownstone with bagels and coffee for everyone. Casey and Ryan were already seated at the conference room table, so Marc and Hero completed the team.
“I brought enough for Hutch. What did he do, sneak out the back door?” Marc asked wryly.
“No.” Casey was unbothered by the good-natured teasing. “He left at the crack of dawn, boldly through the front. He’s meeting with Patrick and Sidney. The FBI task force gets to talk to them first. But that’s okay. We have a few things to take care of in the meantime. And Patrick had copies of the Akerman case file sent to both me and to Don. So we’ll be privy to the same information. I’ll make photocopies for each of you.”
“Good.” Marc distributed breakfast, then took a seat. “That’ll give me lots of reading material.”
“Well, you won’t be doing it today,” Casey informed him. “Today you’re going to be a determined husband searching for a new house. One that’s in Armonk, where the school system is exceptional.”
“Really.” Marc’s brows rose. “And who am I married to? You?”
“Nope. I’ll be your Realtor. We need someone who can be overbearing to play that part. And that’s yours truly. Actually, Claire has agreed to help us out. She’ll be your wife. And Hero will be your dog. We’ll meet at the Willis house. Bring my STU-100, the gauze pads and tongs, some latex gloves and the special glass jars I bought. I’ll create a few scent pads, using some of Krissy’s things as scent articles. We’ll introduce a pad to Hero.”
“After which, we’ll be canvassing the neighborhood,” Marc surmised.
“Right. Once he’s familiar with Krissy’s scent, Hero will be able to tell us if she was taken to any of the neighbors’ houses. In the meantime, we’ll be talking to the home owners, asking questions about what it’s like to live there. How many kids are around and their ages, if the parents are friendly, if there’s any trepidation over the recent kidnapping. I’m willing to bet we’ll find out lots of gossip, tidbits that average
people don’t share with law enforcement. It’ll give us a good perspective on anyone in the area who’s considered to be ‘off,’ plus firsthand interaction with the folks who live here, as well. If Krissy’s kidnapping is a stand-alone crime, that should help supply us with some viable suspects. Then, Ryan can run down their names and see if anything unsavory pops up.”
“But you don’t believe it will.”
“No, I don’t. I think the two crimes are connected. But this will help the Willises comfortably rule out their friends and neighbors, and give us a chance to cross some names off our list until the FBI lets us in the door to talk to Patrick. I don’t want to step on their toes. I pissed them off enough already by following Hope to the ransom drop. If they try to block our access, we’ll be screwed. So let’s play by the rules, at least where it comes to the organized crime angle.”
Ryan leaned back in his chair, eyeing Casey shrewdly. “That’s not all you have on tap for today, is it?”
Casey shook her head. “I’m going to talk to Hope, get more details of her childhood. Then, if I’m lucky, I’ll get to talk to Vera Akerman. I’d be willing to bet she can relay information she doesn’t even know she has. At which point, you’ll come in. I’m hoping to have some names to give you, some from the Willises’ neighborhood, and some from their past. You’re going to be a busy boy by dinnertime.”
“Good. I look forward to the challenge.”
“For you?” Casey arched an eyebrow. “It won’t be a challenge. You could do it in your sleep.”
Her cell phone sounded its upbeat ring tone. “Casey Woods.” She was quiet for a minute, listening. “I’m still in the city, but I’ll be heading up to Armonk in a little while,” she supplied. Another pause. “Are you in Midtown now? Fine. I’ll meet you in your office in an hour.” She disconnected the call.
“What was that about?” Marc asked.
“That was Edward Willis. What was it about? Ostensibly, he wants to see me in his office to discuss the status of our investigation.”
“In reality, he wants to know if you plan on telling his wife that he’s sleeping with Ashley Lawrence,” Marc finished.
“Bingo.” Casey tapped her pen on the table. “That marriage is already in trouble. Edward probably wants to keep it from blowing apart. Not good for his image. And that means covering his ass. The man is a major pig.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
Casey gave Marc a tight smile. “I think I’ll make him squirm.”
Edward Willis was doing paperwork at his desk when his secretary showed Casey into his office. He requested privacy—door shut, no interruptions, no phone calls. The poor young woman immediately agreed, giving her boss one long, infatuated look before retreating. Casey wondered if Edward was sleeping with her, too.
“Thank you for coming, Ms. Woods,” he began, once they were alone. “Would you like coffee? Tea?”
“I’ll help myself, thank you.” Casey poured herself a cup of regular coffee from the expensive brewing station, then took a seat across from Edward. “I didn’t know you were in the office today. I thought you’d be at the hospital with Ashley, or joining your wife in driving her home.”
She saw Edward’s jaw visibly tighten.
“I find work to be therapeutic,” he replied. “It keeps me from going crazy worrying about Krissy.”