Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn Book 6)(56)

“Well,” Noah said. “Hopefully the tip line will be ringing off the hook.”

“The FBI is manning the tip line,” Gretchen said. “I say we all go home and get some sleep and come back at this tomorrow well-rested.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Noah.





Thirty-Five





At home, Josie left Noah in the kitchen with Misty, who had cooked up a large amount of eggplant parmesan—far more than necessary to feed three adults and little Harris. The smell followed Josie to the living room, making her feel sick instead of hungry. She swallowed down bile and dialed Trinity. “Tell me you have something,” she said when her sister answered.

Trinity sighed. “I’ve got competition, is what I’ve got. The FBI just descended on this place like there was some damn national emergency.”

“They do that sometimes.”

“Well, I found the house that used to belong to a Dorothy Walsh. It was sold seventeen years ago by Renita Walsh. I couldn’t get my hands on the old deeds, but it appears as though Renita got the house after the mother died and lived there for a few years before moving on. I haven’t been able to find any Renita Walsh—not here, anyway. I did find information for a woman called Renita Desilva who is about the right age and now lives in Binghamton, New York. I have a call out to her but no response yet. There’s one neighbor, elderly, who remembers them. The story matches up: mom and sister died in a car accident. Renita stayed in the house for a few years and then sold it to a young family.”

“That’s it? Did she remember Amy? Did she have anything to say about her?”

“That she was a nice girl. Very quiet.”

Josie blew out a breath. “Well that just sends up all kinds of red flags, doesn’t it?”

Trinity laughed. “I’m not done. Tomorrow I’m going to go over to the high school and see if I can get some old yearbooks. The elderly neighbor doesn’t remember Amy having any boyfriends, but if the abusive relationship that Amy mentioned was really ‘kid stuff’ then maybe there will be something in the yearbooks. Then I’ll go to the local library and search their database for old news stories in the Fulton Daily News. See if any of the Walsh ladies are mentioned there. Then if I haven’t heard from Renita Desilva, I’ll head down to Binghamton and make a house call.”

“Great,” Josie said. “Thanks. I appreciate this.” Her finger hovered over the End Call icon. Then Trinity’s voice came again. “Josie?”

Josie pressed the phone back to her ear. “Yes?”

“You okay? You don’t sound like yourself lately.”

“I’m fine,” Josie lied, pressing a hand over her belly.

“Sure you are,” Trinity said skeptically.

“Really,” Josie said. “I am.”

“I’ll be the judge of that when I see you. I just need a couple more days. Two, tops.”





The next morning, Josie and Noah reported to the mobile command tent. Gretchen’s warrants had turned up some video footage from various places Amy had gone with Lucy in the weeks before Lucy’s kidnapping. Josie sat beside Noah as he began reviewing the footage. “We’ll start with this,” Noah said. “It’s from the arcade. According to the list that Colin made for us from their bank and credit card statements, Amy took Lucy there three weeks ago just to play some games.”

“Let’s have a look then,” Josie said.

Noah pulled up the footage from the arcade, which had multiple cameras, each one displayed in a box on the screen.

“This is going to take forever,” Noah groused.

“Not necessarily,” Josie said. “You watch the ones on the left, and I’ll watch the ones on the right.”

Fifteen minutes later, Josie said, “Stop. Right there. That camera.” She pointed to one of the squares on the right side of the screen. “Can you pull that one up? Just that one?”

Noah clicked a few times and the small square filled the screen. It was an angled, slightly overhead shot of several games in the corner of the arcade. One featured a large screen and in front of it, on the floor, several panels which lit up in different colors. Josie leaned in and saw that the name of the game was Dance Off. Computerized figures moved on the screen and in front of it, using the panels beneath her feet, a small blonde girl tried to match the figures move for move.

“That’s Lucy Ross, isn’t it?” Noah said.

“I think so,” Josie said.

“Where’s Amy?”

Josie searched the rest of the frame. In the lower, left corner stood a woman with a cell phone pressed to her ear, her back turned toward Lucy. “There,” Josie said. “I think that’s her.”

They had to wait several seconds for the woman to turn around so they could see her face. “That’s definitely her,” Noah said, pausing the footage and zooming in.

“Yes,” Josie agreed.

He zoomed back out and restarted the footage. Amy took a glance at Lucy, who was jumping and dancing on the platform of the Dance Off game. Then she turned away once more. “Who do you think she’s talking to?” Noah asked.

“My money’s on her husband. She doesn’t have anyone else in her life—that we know of.”