Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn Book 6)(62)

“I know that,” Josie said. “But we need her right now. Lucy’s life may depend on her continued cooperation. If we start treating her like a criminal, she’s going to clam up. As contentious as things have been between her and her husband, Colin’s instinct will be to protect his wife which means he will hire a lawyer in a hot second if he thinks we are treating her as a suspect. Whoever this kidnapper is—he’s from her past.”

“A past we know absolutely nothing about,” Oaks pointed out. “Because she’s been lying to us all along.”

“In any other circumstances, I’d drag her down to police headquarters and try to scare the hell out of her,” Josie said. “I get what you’re proposing. But I’m telling you, now is not the time. Let me try to talk with her again, see if I can get more out of her.”

Oaks sighed. “Fine. But Quinn, if you can’t get anything out of her and this thing drags on, we’ll have no choice.”

“I know that,” Josie agreed. “Just give me some time.”





Thirty-Nine





Amy was back in Lucy’s room, sitting in the beanbag chair with a stuffed ladybug in her arms. Sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains and all of the glittery items Lucy owned sparkled, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the walls. Josie closed the door behind her and sat down in front of Amy, crossing her legs.

Amy said, “Why does he need guns? The kidnapper? What’s he going to do with them?”

“I don’t know,” Josie answered honestly. “Amy, I need to talk to you, and it’s very important.”

Amy’s glazed eyes came into focus and she looked at Josie. “Did something happen?”

Josie shook her head. “Not yet. I’m here to warn you. Soon, very soon, my colleagues are going to come for you. They’re going to take you down to the police station and put you into an interrogation room, and they’re going to start asking hard questions on the record.”

Amy’s fingers kneaded the ladybug. “What are you talking about? They think I did this? They think I had something to do with Lucy’s abduction?”

“What they know is that you’ve been lying to us. They know that you’re not Amy Walsh.”

Amy started to speak but the words got choked off in her throat. She looked away and put a hand over her mouth.

Josie said, “I don’t want to believe that you had anything to do with this. But Amy, from where the rest of us are standing, it sure doesn’t look good.”

Amy was silent for a long moment. When she looked back at Josie and spoke, her words were so low, Josie strained to hear them. “What do I do?”

“Tell me the truth. Right now. In this room. If you had nothing to do with Lucy’s abduction, then whatever you’re hiding won’t matter.” Josie pointed to the closed door. “Right now, my colleagues are starting to focus on you, which is completely understandable. I get where they’re coming from. When you find out someone is lying about a bunch of things—big things—it’s not a stretch to think they could be lying about the crime you’re trying to solve.”

“I had nothing to do with Lucy’s abduction,” Amy said firmly. “I swear to you. I just want her back.”

“So do I,” Josie said. “My focus is on Lucy. I don’t give a damn about anything but getting that little girl back alive. That’s it. That’s all. So there is nothing you can tell me, no secret you can divulge to me, that is going to matter if you didn’t do this. I don’t care if you killed someone, Amy, but you need to tell me. Now. Before my colleagues come through that door and this whole thing spins out of control.”

Tears rolled down Amy’s cheeks. She clutched the ladybug again. Her eyes started to get that unfocused, vacant look again.

Josie said, “Why did you assume Amy Walsh’s identity?”

Amy blinked, her gaze darting to Josie’s face and then back to the other side of the room where the butterfly garden hung. “I had to. I needed one.”

“Does Colin know?”

“Of course not,” Amy responded. “He has no idea.”

“How did you do it?”

Amy said, “I knew Amy Walsh. She was my friend. Her mother took me in. Let me live with them. It was only a few months. Then they died. Car accident. Renita wasn’t with them, so she lived. But she wouldn’t have let me stay. She never liked me. I took Amy’s personal effects with me and went to New York City. I just… started using her identity. I lived in terror that someone would figure it out. But no one ever did. Until now. Did you know I’m not even forty-four? I’m only forty.”

Josie tucked that fact away. “Why did you do it?”

“Not everything I told you was a lie.”

“You were running from someone,” Josie coaxed. “An abusive lover?”

Amy swallowed. Her face flushed. “Not a lover,” she choked out.

“A boyfriend? Husband?”

“I was a prisoner, do you understand? A prisoner. I got away from him. I had no choice.”

“Who was he, Amy?”

She shook her head vigorously. “I told you, he’s dead. I’ll never speak his name again.”