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“Special Agent Lynch,” she managed.
CHAPTER NINE
“Hello, Mrs. Akerman. I’m glad you recognize me. And I’m sickened that you’re going through this again.” The former special agent shifted his gaze to Hope. “Judge Willis. My name is Patrick Lynch. I was the lead investigator thirty-two years ago when your sister was kidnapped.”
“I see.” Hope was visibly thrown. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”
“I didn’t expect you would. You were six when we met.” He walked over and extended his hand. “I’m sorry to be here under these dire circumstances.” He shook Hope’s hand. “But I’m here to offer my services. Anything I can do to help, just ask.”
Casey had watched the entire exchange with interest. Patrick Lynch was clearly sincere in his offer, and disturbed by Krissy’s kidnapping. But there was something more here. Something personal. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he still felt responsible for Felicity’s kidnapping, for coming up empty. In fact, judging from his pained expression and determined demeanor, Casey was willing to bet that he’d been plagued for years by the case’s lack of resolution.
“Thank you, Agent Lynch,” Hope was saying. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it.” His next words confirmed Casey’s suspicions. “I can’t make up for your sister’s disappearance going cold. But I can do everything in my power to assist the Bureau and to make sure this second crime doesn’t go unsolved.”
“Do you have reason to believe the two kidnappings are related?” Casey asked, also coming to her feet.
“This is Casey Woods,” Hope introduced her.
“From Forensic Instincts. Yes, I know. I’ve been following Krissy’s kidnapping since the story broke yesterday. I saw on the news that you’d hired Ms. Woods’s team.” He shook Casey’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Casey met his handshake. “You headed up the investigation into Felicity Akerman’s abduction?”
A nod. “And to answer your question, I have no idea if there’s a connection between the two abductions. The only common denominator is the family. But if it is a coincidence, it’s a horrible one. Mrs. Akerman barely survived the loss of her daughter. Now her granddaughter…” He blew out a slow breath. “I’m an independent consultant now. But I need to be part of this.”
“Anything you can contribute would be a blessing,” Hope said. “I’ll gladly pay you any amount….”
He waved away her offer. “Your sister’s kidnapping has never stopped eating at me. Retirement from the Bureau gave me even more time to dwell on it. Believe me, participating in this investigation is as much for me as it is for you.”
“What type of consulting work do you do?” Casey asked curiously.
“Mostly security, both for private companies and law enforcement. I’ve done a fair amount of work with the NYPD, since New York City is my home base. And I’ve assisted the Bureau on a couple of cases. It works well. I live in New Jersey, and my office is in lower Manhattan.” Lynch met Casey’s gaze, his expression one that said he was totally comfortable in his own skin. “Not to date myself, but when I started working for the Bureau, the White Plains RA was in New Rochelle, and the New York Field Office was on East Sixty-ninth at Third Avenue, not Federal Plaza.”
“Which explains your heading up the investigation into Hope’s twin sister’s abduction.” Casey nodded. “Their home was in New Rochelle.”
“Exactly.” Lynch turned back to Vera and Hope. “I kept my notes from the original kidnapping. Judge Willis, if your mother is up to it, and with your permission, I’d like to speak with Special Agent Harrington about digging up the cold case file. If there’s any crossover in the suspect pool, or any other details that repeat themselves in the two abductions, I want to go after them.”
Hope glanced quickly at her mother, who gave a brief nod. “You have my permission,” she told Lynch. She paused, visibly shaken by this turn of events. “Why would anyone target my family for over thirty years?”
“It’s a long shot,” he told her gently. “More a process of elimination than a viable possibility. But on the off chance that it has merit, we could uncover clues to help find your daughter.”
Casey couldn’t restrain herself any longer. The first qu
estion she’d planned to ask Vera Akerman was still on the tip of her tongue. In light of Patrick Lynch’s approach, that question was now more important than ever.
“Mrs. Akerman,” she asked quietly. “When was the last time you saw or spoke to your ex-husband?”
Hope’s mother looked more saddened than she did, taken aback. “At the divorce hearing. He’d been drinking, which was routine for him those days. Once the divorce decree was official and I had full custody of Hope, he vanished into thin air.”
“And you?” Casey asked Hope. “Has there been any contact with your father?”
“None.” Hope shook her head, a flash of pain and nostalgia crossing her face. “All I remember is how broken up he was after Felicity was kidnapped. She was definitely daddy’s little girl, into sports and arcade games, just like him. He couldn’t get over her disappearance. Every day she was gone, things got worse. Eventually, he stopped going to work. He drank all the time. And he and my mom cried and fought.”
“Sidney and I should have grown closer because of the trauma of losing Felicity,” Vera added. “But we never did. I tried. He just wouldn’t let me in. It was as if the loss was entirely his. He withdrew into himself, and gave up on life. Work, family, our marriage—none of it meant anything to him anymore. Ultimately, he lost his job, and drank himself into oblivion. I was overpowered by my own grief. The whole thing became too much. Our marriage just broke into pieces.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Poor Hope got the brunt of it. She never said a word, but I could see it in her eyes. She blamed herself for the breakup. She felt like it was her fault, like she wasn’t enough reason for her father to stay. It’s amazing that she came through it—a testament to her internal strength. She was only six years old, and she was going through her own hell. She and Felicity were so close. Identical twins. Losing her twin and then her father—how could any child come through that unscathed? I should have done more—”
“Stop it, Mom,” Hope interrupted. “You did everything you could. Your child had been kidnapped. That’s every mother’s nightmare. Now it’s become my reality.” Another shaky breath. “As for Dad, all that’s in the past. I don’t think about it anymore. And I don’t think about him.”
