Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn Book 6)(20)

Amy’s knees wobbled and she fell. Before she hit the ground, Colin caught her. He lifted her limp body, trying to keep her upright. Fresh tears streaked her face. “Oh God,” she sobbed.

Josie stood up and spoke to Colin. “Look, why don’t you take your wife home and get some rest. It’s been a long day, and we need to look strongly at the possibility that this is an abduction, which changes the direction of this investigation significantly. There’s a lot of work we need to do right now. We’ll let you know as soon as we know more.”

He looked like he wanted to refuse, but Amy was becoming more hysterical by the second. Finally, he nodded and dragged his wife out of the tent. Once they were safely out of earshot, Josie said, “We need to talk to the parents of her school friends. We should talk with her teacher as well. Also, we need to shake down every sex offender within a five-mile radius of her home and school. Someone had access to her. Someone convinced her to leave her parents behind.”

“Jesus,” Noah said, his voice heavy and sad.

“And I think we need to issue an Amber Alert and call the FBI,” Josie added.

Gretchen said, “Chitwood will never go for it.”

Josie took out her phone. “I don’t give two shits what Chitwood will or won’t go for.”





Twelve





The Amber Alert went out moments after Josie hung up with her contact at the State Police. All of their phones started blaring alarms. Ten minutes later, Josie’s phone rang. Bob Chitwood’s name flashed on the screen. She hit the answer icon and barked, “Quinn.”

Without preamble, Chitwood said, “This your doing, Quinn?”

Josie girded herself, waiting for his tirade, for him to possibly fire her for insubordination. “Yes.”

“You call the FBI, too?”

“Yes, sir. We have reason to believe now that this may have been a kidnapping.” She started to launch into an explanation, but Chitwood interrupted her.

“Shut up, Quinn,” he snapped. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Sir?” Josie said, perplexed.

“I never said not to follow the evidence. But Quinn, by God, you’d better be right about this, or—”

“I know,” Josie cut in. “Or you’ll have my ass in a sling by the end of the week. Duly noted, sir.”

There was a long beat of silence. Just long enough to make Josie a little nervous. Then Chitwood said, “I’m glad we have an understanding, Quinn. Now get to work.”

He hung up, leaving Josie staring at her phone as though it was some alien object she had just discovered.

“What was that about?” Gretchen asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s taking anger management classes or something?” Josie mused.

Gretchen, Mettner and Noah all erupted into laughter. Noah said, “Maybe we can get him into etiquette classes after that.”

“We can try,” Josie joked. “Come on, Mett, we’ll go interview some of these other moms. You know where they are?”

Mettner followed her to her car, scrolling on his phone as he walked. “Amy only gave me the names of two moms. Is that normal? For a seven-year-old to only have two friends?”

Josie glanced back at him. “I don’t know, Mett. But let’s start with them. We can always ask them if there are any other moms we should approach.”

They got into the car and pulled away as Mettner rattled off a nearby address. “Ingrid Saylor. Her daughter is in Lucy’s class.”

When they arrived at Ingrid’s home a few moments later, all the downstairs windows were lit up. Josie and Mettner stepped onto the large wraparound porch. Voices could be heard from inside as Josie reached for the doorbell. A woman in her thirties with short, stylish brown hair answered, smiling at them. As she took in their Denton PD polo shirts, the corners of her mouth drooped. Her bottom lip quivered. “Oh no,” she said. “Is this about Lucy?”

Mettner said, “It is about Lucy, but we don’t have any news.”

Josie extended a hand. “Ingrid Saylor? I’m Detective Quinn, this is Detective Mettner. Amy Ross gave us your name. She said your daughter is friends with Lucy. We were just hoping to ask you some questions.”

Ingrid pulled the lapels of her gray knit cardigan tight across her chest and stepped aside so they could enter. “I’d be happy to speak with you. Actually, quite a few of the mothers are here right now.”

“Mothers?” Mettner said.

Ingrid waved them deeper inside the large home, through a foyer to a spacious kitchen where several women gathered around an island countertop, nibbling on an array of finger food and sipping from fluted glasses. Ingrid said, “These are some of the mothers of children in Lucy’s class.” Josie counted six mothers altogether, and every one of them stared as she and Mettner entered the room.

Ingrid introduced them and offered them something to eat or drink, which both Josie and Mettner declined. Mettner tapped furiously on his phone, taking down each woman’s name, address, phone number and child’s name for the reports he and Josie would need to prepare later.

“We were all at the search today,” said Ingrid. “We’ve been out all day helping look for Lucy. I invited everyone back for a drink.”