LITMIR.BIZ

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for that. I can also read the victimology report her parents supplied. But often those aren’t as in-depth as I’d like. Not where it comes to Krissy’s hot buttons, her private likes and dislikes, her subtle behavioral traits. In many ways, you were her primary caretaker. The Willises have busy, high-powered careers—especially Mr. Willis. That doesn’t mean they’re not exceptional parents but you’ve spent the most time with Krissy, ever since she was born. There might be nuances you’re familiar with that are fresher in your mind than they are in theirs.”

      A faint smile touched Ashley’s lips. “Krissy’s always been special. She’s happy, she’s bright and she’s so precocious that even I have trouble staying a step ahead of her.”

      Ashley went on to describe a bouncy, enthusiastic child who loved books, drawing and Disney’s Club Penguin, had lots of playdates and friends—including a little boyfriend named Scotty—was a Daisy Girl Scout, wanted to play the tuba when she reached third grade and who wished her straight blond hair was red and thick like her friend Erin’s, whose hair reached all the way down her back without getting even a little thin and pointy.

      “Krissy would love your hair,” Ashley told Casey in a tone so filled with fondness that it couldn’t be faked. “She’d ask you a million questions about who in your family is a redhead and how you managed to inherit it.” Another small smile. “She’d also ask if you had a boyfriend, and if he liked red hair. Then she’d tell you all about Scotty and how much longer she can hang upside down on the monkey bars than he can. She’s not what you’d call shy or quiet.”

      Casey put down her pad. “She sounds like a great kid.”

      “She is. Everyone likes her.”

      “What about her parents? Does everyone like them, too?”

      An uncomfortable flush stained Ashley’s neck. “That’s a hard question for me to answer. They’re wonderful to me, and they always have been. They have tons of friends. But they both also have these jobs that produce enemies. So I can’t say….”

      “I didn’t expect you to know details about their work lives. I was referring to any major disputes in their personal lives—with others, with each other.”

      “Not that I know of,” Ashley answered quickly, defensively. Casey could see the pulse at her neck start beating a little faster. Nerves? Maybe.

      Casey continued to speak in a calm, reassuring tone. “Ashley, my questions aren’t meant to hurt the Willises. They seem like lovely people. I just want to find Krissy. I’m not interested in uncovering any family skeletons. Those are none of my business. But family arguments can lead to outside confidences. And outside confidences can lead to angry, bitter friends. You practically live here. So I’m asking you if there are any internal or external conflicts you know about.”

      That calmed Ashley down. “No, none.”

      “Okay.” Casey switched gears. “I understand you were here at the house all day today, and that there were no visitors,”

      The swift change in subject caught Ashley by surprise. “That’s right.”

      “Do you keep the burglar alarm on?”

      “Not during the day. But I do keep the doors locked. I’d know if someone broke in. Plus, I would have heard them.”

      “True,” Casey agreed. She pursed her lips. “What about the mail?”

      “What about it?”

      “I noticed the mailbox is at the foot of the driveway, which is winding and long. Did you bring in the mail today?”

      “Yes,” Ashley admitted. “I already told that to the police. And, yes, the door was unlocked during that time. But I was only gone for two, maybe three, minutes. So if you’re wondering if someone could have slipped in and out of the house, I doubt it. Is it possible? I suppose so. I’d like to think I would have spotted them. Not to mention how unlikely it is that they’d have had time to go upstairs, take Oreo, and leave—not to mention knowing the layout of the house, where Krissy’s room is—”

      “Unless someone drew them a diagram,” Casey interrupted quietly.

      “Who would—” Ashley broke off, her eyes widening as she realized where Casey was going with this. “Do you mean me? You think I’m part of this kidnapping?”

      “I don’t know what to think.” An offhand shrug. “I can see how much you care about Krissy, and how torn up you are by what’s happened. But you were the only person here all day. So you could be lying, or you could be involved on some level—maybe as an accomplice.”

      The shock that registered on Ashley’s face was unmistakable. “An accomplice to who? My God, I’d never, ever hurt Krissy. I’d never take her from her family. I’d never put her through this.”

      “After everything you’ve said, I believe you.” Casey softened her expression—and her tone. “But I had to ask. Especially because of Frank.”

      “Frank?” Again, Ashley was on the defensive. “What about him?”

      “The Willises tell me that your boyfriend is kind of a drifter, and that he’s far from rolling in cash. And you’re in grad school. You have tuition and textbooks to pay for. The Willises are rich. It occurred to me that Frank might have pressured you into doing something you’d never ordinarily do, and convince you it was harmless. He’d make sure Krissy never knew who took her. You’d make sure he never hurt her. He’d just keep her long enough to get a huge payment from the Willises, then get her back to them. You’d both be rich. And no one would be any the wiser.”

      “And Krissy would be scarred for life.” Ashley was trembling. “I’d never, ever be part of such a sick scheme. Not for a million dollars.”

      “Would Frank?”

      “Absolutely not. Frank’s not exactly a go-getter, but he’s not a thief. And he’d never kidnap a child.”

      “It’s not a great theory,” Casey murmured. “Considering there’s been no ransom call—yet. But I had to ask. Not so much about you, but about Frank. That was him you were just arguing with on the phone, right?”

      “Yes.”

      “Was it about Krissy?”

      “Yes … no … I mean, it was about Krissy, but not in the way you mean.” An uneasy pause. “He’s upset about how much time I’m spending here. I know that sounds horrible. But he’s a guy. He feels bad about Krissy, but he’s had enough. He’s been questioned by the police. He’s listened to my hysteria all afternoon. And now he’s dealing with my saying I’m not leaving this house until Krissy comes home safely. He’s not a bad guy. He’s just impatient and pissed off.”

      “Sounds like most guys,” Casey said with a smile.

      “I know.” Ashley was clearly relieved by Casey’s reaction.

      “So you and Frank are tight?”

      “Pretty much. We’ve been together for a year.” Ashley opened her bottle of water and took a gulp. “I don’t see us walking down the aisle or anything. But, like I said, he’s a good guy.”

      “He just wishes you’d spend more time with him.”

      “Yes.” Another swig of water. “And I wish he’d work a little harder. Want to be a little more. I doubt that’s in the cards.”

      Casey gave an understanding nod. “Ambition’s one of those qualities you’re either born with or you’re not.”

      “Exactly.” Ashley shifted on her chair. “If there’s nothing else, I’d really like to get back inside. Maybe the FBI’s heard something.”

      The concern, the worry, the freaked-out look in Ashley’s eyes—all that was real.

      “You really love Krissy a lot,” Casey said.

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