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“Given how pissed off at him I am right now, I just might take that advice.” Casey didn’t pull any punches with Hutch’s partner. They were a tight team, and Casey was sure that Grace was aware of the fact that Hutch had called Marc, rather than Casey, with the news about Claudia Mitchell’s murder.

Casey wasn’t sure which was more immature—Hutch’s action, or her own reaction.

She spotted him across the room, and purposely ignored him. She had things to deal with; she’d thrash it out with Hutch later.

“What happened with Akerman and yesterday’s lineup?” Casey asked. “Did Sidney recognize that guy Lou DeMassi?”

“From what Peg told me, I think that Akerman was pretty sure DeMassi was one of the mobsters squeezing Kenyon. Last I heard, Peg and Don were interrogating him. Ken went over to DeMassi’s son’s place, but the guy and his family seem to have magically left on a spontaneous Sicilian vacation. Ken will find him. But we’re back to the same enemy—time.”

“Casey—” Hope interjected, hurrying over, her lashes damp with tears. “This nightmare just keeps getting worse and worse. Why would the mob kill Claudia? Did she know something? Are they warning her boyfriend to keep his mouth shut about my baby?”

“I don’t know,” Casey answered honestly. “But they obviously went to great lengths to pick the right spot to commit the murder. That section of road is all hills and sharp curves. And it’s countrified, so it’s pretty isolated. I’m guessing they followed her up to there, waited for her return trip and did their job.”

Turning back to Grace, Casey asked, “Has someone told Joe Deale about Claudia yet?”

“Yup.” Grace nodded. “Peg stopped at the precinct before she and Don drove up to the medical center to question the staff. From what I heard, Deale is totally freaked out. Not so much about losing his girlfriend, but about what it suggests. He knows that he’s next. He’s like a rat in a maze, not knowing what he might know and not knowing how to get out.”

“I finished our updated profile and released it to the entire task force.” Hutch appeared out of nowhere to convey that information to Grace. “They’re all running with it.” He glanced at Casey. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she returned coolly without meeting his gaze. Instead, she addressed Hope. “I have some photos for you and your mother to look at. Is she up for it now?”

“Yes, of course. Come into the Florida room. She’s resting there. It’s the only place that’s removed from the pandemonium, and she hasn’t gotten any real sleep since Krissy…” A tremor in her voice. “Since they took Krissy. Ashley’s with her.”

“Good. Ashley practically lives here. It’s possible that she might be able to identify someone, too.” Casey began following Hope, then paused. “Is your mother okay with dogs? As I mentioned to you on the phone, I brought Hero to do some more sniffing recon.”

“She’s fine with them.”

“Hero does slobber,” Casey warned.

Hope managed a small smile. “My mother had a cocker spaniel when she was growing up. According to her, ‘Slobber’ was his middle name. So I wouldn’t worry. Going through those photos with a fine-tooth comb is what this is all about.”

“Great. What I’ll do is leave the stack of photos with the three of you, explain what I’m looking for and take Hero up to Krissy’s room. Okay?”

“Fine. Yes. Anything.”

They continued into the Florida room, where Vera was sitting on the couch bleakly sipping a cup of tea and Ashley was pacing around, unable to sit still.

“Hi,” Ashley said, stopping to look at Casey. “Did you hear the horrible news about Claudia Mitchell?”

A nod. “The authorities are all over it. Hopefully, we’ll hear something soon.”

Ashley’s gaze dropped to Hero. “What a beautiful bloodhound. Is he yours?”

“Not only mine, but a newly inducted member of Forensic Instincts,” Casey replied. “He’s a former FBI human scent evidence dog, trained and certified at Quantico. We’re lucky that he went into early retirement. This way, he can work the case with us.”

Casey turned back to Vera and Hope. “I have photos for you to review. Felicity’s friends, aged to what they would currently look like. And their parents, as well. Hope, you study the images carefully and let me know if you’ve seen any of these people hanging around your house or Krissy’s school. And Mrs. Akerman, I’d appreciate if you’d concentrate on seeing if you recognize the kids from childhood, and their parents from younger adulthood.”

“You’re searching for a clue that would tie the two kidnappings together—like the same kidnapper,” Hope concluded aloud.

“Exactly,” Casey said. “Ashley, you join Judge Willis in her scrutiny of the current individuals. You spend so much time here—maybe someone in the pictures will jump out at you.”

“Of course.” Ashley had already settled herself beside Hope, who’d sunk down on the opposite sofa, photos in hand.

“Take your time,” Casey instructed. “Hero and I will go upstairs to Krissy’s bedroom. I want to collect a few more of Krissy’s things that have her smells. Hero’s sense of smell is unbelievable. He could pick up her scent from miles away. That can only help us.”

Casey was just about to head upstairs when Patrick arrived.

“Where do things stand?” he demanded.

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