Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn Book 6)(36)

Tears rolled down Amy’s cheeks. “Colin, please.”

“I want to know, Ame. You got a girl killed today. So I want to know, what do you do all day?”

Josie waited to see if Amy would lie to him and say she was taking college courses, but she didn’t answer him. Instead she said, “You’re being cruel. You promised you would never be cruel.”

He stopped pacing and looked directly at her. “And you promised you would take care of our daughter while I was away—that you would protect her.”

Amy sprang out of her chair. “You were there, too. Or have you forgotten? Maybe you could have stopped all of this before it started if that damn phone wasn’t the most important thing in your life.”

“Don’t make this about me,” he shot back.

“Then don’t make it about me,” she hissed. “We’re losing focus. We need to focus on Lucy. She’s out there somewhere with a killer, Colin. A killer! Oh my God.”

Amy turned away and ran out of the room. Josie and Colin stared at one another for a long moment. Then Colin dropped into the nearest chair, put his face in his hands, and cried.





Twenty-Two





I heard their voices again. I went under the bed, but I could still hear them. I tiptoed to the corner of the room furthest from the door. I still heard them. I climbed up onto the windowsill, but I still heard them.

“You can’t keep a child like this,” she told the man.

“Like what?” he scoffed.

“In these conditions. Children need to be outside. They need sun and food—we both need more food.”

“For chrissake,” the man complained. “All you do is complain about what you’re not getting. I’m sick of it.”

“I’m not asking for much. Basic necessities.”

The man laughed, but I didn’t like the sound at all. “You’re both alive, aren’t you? You’re doing pretty well.”

Her voice got quiet and bitter. “You did this. You wanted this. I never wanted this, but here we are. If you’re tired of the way things are, let us leave.”

The man’s voice became a growl. “You’re not going anywhere with that kid. You understand me? I’ll kill you both. No one will ever find your bodies. Now get the hell out of my sight before I get really angry.”

Seconds later, she stepped into the room. When she saw me, she waved a hand frantically in a beckoning motion. “Get down from there,” she said in her harshest whisper.

We sat on the bed cross-legged, facing one another. The man wouldn’t bring us toys or books, she said, so we played games with her socks. She made shapes with them and told me their names. Horse. Mouse. Dog. The letter A. But today I didn’t want to play. When she made the shape of a heart, I swiped the socks off the bed, onto the floor.

“Hey,” she said.

“I want to go home,” I said.

She looked at the closed door. “Soon,” she said. “Very soon.”

I didn’t believe her.





Twenty-Three





Josie didn’t follow Amy right away. Instead, she went into the backyard, sucking in the fresh air and wishing she had some Xanax of her own, or maybe some Wild Turkey. But the moment the thought came into her head, her stomach clenched. If this went on much longer, she’d have to see a doctor. Or visit the local drugstore, said a low voice in the back of her head. She pushed it back, down deep into the recesses of her consciousness. She wasn’t ready to go there yet. Not while Lucy was in the hands of a madman and an army of law enforcement was powerless to recover her.

Josie took out her phone and called Noah. He’d already heard most of the news from the FBI agents at mobile command as well as other Denton team members. They talked for several minutes, Josie asking unnecessary questions just to keep him on the phone. The sound of his voice was the only thing that cut through the grief she’d been drowning in all day. “Come back to the tent,” he told her.

“I can’t,” she said. “I’m needed here.”

“Okay, well call me later. Oh wait…” Josie heard him talking to someone in the background. Then he came back on the line. “I’ve got the WYEP footage from yesterday.”

“I’ll be there in five,” Josie said.

The volunteer searchers from the day before had gone, although many people still lingered around the playground, drinking coffee, chatting and hoping to help—or to hear some news, Josie thought. She spotted Luke and his bloodhound among the handful of people who had brought their own dogs to assist in search and rescue. The college students with their search drones were still there, most of them fiddling with their machines while one of them used a large handheld controller to fly one of the drones over the park for what Josie imagined must be the dozenth time. The most popular local coffee shop, Komorrah’s, had set up a small table at the entrance, offering free coffee and pastries to law enforcement and civilian searchers. One of the local restaurants had set up another table nearby offering hot meals and various beverages. A crew from WYEP sat on benches nearby, all of their heads bent to their phones, except the cameraman who panned the area repeatedly with wary eyes, camera at the ready on his shoulder.

Inside the tent, Josie found Noah sitting at one of the folding tables, tapping away at a laptop in front of him. “You should ask those kids from the university for their drone footage,” she said as she sat next to him.