Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn Book 6)(37)

He turned and smiled at her. “Already did but we didn’t get anything. They were flying their drones over the rest of the city while the carousel was unattended.”

“I just can’t believe this guy snuck into the carousel while all these people were here,” Josie said.

“It’s kind of genius though,” Noah said as he pulled up the footage he had received from WYEP. “He blends into the crowd. No one is looking at the carousel.”

As the footage began to play on the laptop, Josie’s heart sank. “There were easily a thousand people here yesterday, and they all had backpacks.”

The camera focused on the entrance to the park, where the tent could be seen in the background. The reporter taped a spot while people milled around behind her. Then the footage cut to the line of searchers inside the park, panning the crowd. It focused on the carousel a few times for several seconds, but no one could be seen inside the perimeter of the ride. The reporter did another spot with the carousel behind her but again, no one suspicious appeared. Then the footage cut to various places around town where volunteers searched for Lucy.

Noah said, “He could easily have gotten into the carousel’s column once the search was underway. WYEP wasn’t taping there all day.”

Josie leaned across him and reset the footage to the beginning so they could watch again. “But he has to be here,” she said. “He must have been in the crowd.”

“Right but how could we possibly tell what he looks like? It’s not like this guy’s going to be wearing a T-shirt that says ‘Kidnapper’ on it. I mean all these people look the same—non-threatening. Except this guy.” Noah pointed to the screen. “He doesn’t look threatening. Just out of place.”

“Oh, tweed suit guy? I noticed him, too. I was thinking maybe he was a professor.”

“Should we find out who he is?” Noah asked.

“It can’t hurt,” Josie said. “But I don’t think the kidnapper would make himself so obvious. I’ve got to get back to Amy. Can you send this to my phone?”

“Will do,” Noah said.

“Let me know if anything develops.”

Her eyes searched the thin crowd of people as she made her way from the tent to her car, but no one stood out. Luke waved to her, and she gave an abrupt wave back, rushing to her car before he could approach. As she started her engine, nausea took hold of her stomach again.





Twenty-Four





Josie found Amy on the second floor inside a room that was clearly Lucy’s bedroom. It was decorated in pink—pastel pink paint covered the walls; pink unicorns danced along the border near the ceiling. Amy sat in a pile of stuffed animals on top of a twin bed ensconced in a white bedframe with a gauzy pink canopy draped over it. The carpet was plush and dark pink. All the furniture was white—dresser, toybox, and a small desk and chair. In one corner was a large easel with a three-drawer storage cabinet. Crayons, markers, construction paper and other craft items spilled out of the drawers. On the easel was a large picture drawn in crayon of a little girl with blonde hair standing next to a larger figure in a tan shirt and shorts with a net in his hand. Above their heads floated a dozen butterflies.

In fact, all over the room were signs of Lucy’s obsession with butterflies. There was a discarded net and jar next to the door. A blanket with butterflies on it was draped over a beanbag chair. Lucy had put butterfly stickers on the front of her dresser. A large poster hung on one wall with several butterflies on it, the names of their classifications below each one. Thrown in one corner was what looked like a pair of butterfly wings Lucy could wear on her back. Next to the desk was a large circular net enclosure filled with small plants. On closer inspection, Josie thought she saw actual cocoons hanging from a small plastic circle.

Amy’s voice was barely a whisper. “It’s a butterfly garden. You send away for the caterpillars.”

Josie peered inside counting six cocoons dangling from the white round piece of plastic. “There are actually caterpillars in there?”

“Yes. They should emerge as butterflies in a few days. This is the third time we’ve done it.”

“I had no idea you could even do this,” Josie said, amazed.

Amy gave a small laugh. “Colin thinks it’s gross, but Lucy just loves it. They come in a small plastic cup. You just leave them in there and in about a week, they attach themselves to the lid and form their cocoons. Then you take the lid off, stand it up inside the net using that little log and wait for them to emerge. They’re so beautiful when they come out. We set them free in the backyard.”

“Wow,” Josie said. “She really is obsessed with butterflies.”

“Obsessed is putting it mildly. She wanted us to change her name to Chrysalis.”

Now Josie laughed but it quickly died in her throat because any thought of Lucy automatically led to the questions that ran in a loop in her brain: where was she, and was she still alive?

“That was after we visited the butterfly room. We did a weekend in Philadelphia. The Academy of Natural Sciences has one. It’s lovely. They keep it at eighty-five degrees. You just walk around in there. Butterflies are everywhere. Lucy was wearing a bright red shirt, and they kept landing on her. She said—” Amy broke off, her lower lip trembling. Then she took in a deep breath and continued, “She said it was the best day of her life. She likes ladybugs, too. She knows all kinds of weird facts about them. She knows that they hibernate over the winter, and that they look for the west-facing walls of light-colored houses to burrow into the siding. She used to say to me that if she ever got lost, she would fly back to me like a ladybug. Go west and look for our house. She was so glad it was light-colored. Fly home to me. I wish she would.”