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“Go on,” Peg said curtly.
“She was admitted under the name Lorna Werner. You would have found that out the minute you showed her picture at the front desk. You also would have found out that talking to her is useless. She drifts in and out of reality, and she didn’t kidnap Krissy, although she certainly inspired it. If she has an inkling where Krissy is—which I doubt—she’d never be able to give us a coherent description, much less directions to where Krissy’s being kept. Only her accomplice can.”
“Is this accomplice mob related?” Sidney asked.
“No. Your mob ties had nothing to do with your granddaughter’s abduction.”
“So you know who Linda’s accomplice is,” Peg concluded.
“Yes.” Casey was both frank and blunt. “I can tell you, which would be hearsay. Or I can show you, and say we found this evidence outside the gates of Sunny Gardens, where a good Samaritan must have dropped it. Your choice.”
Peg glared at her. “Show me.”
Ryan produced a flash drive containing the data he’d copied off Gecko. He walked over to one of the FBI computers. “May I?”
“Go ahead.”
He inserted the USB drive and punched in a few commands on the keyboard.
A minute later, the video recording came up. First, Linda. Then, the familiar voice. Finally, the appearance.
A simultaneous gasp filled the room as Linda and her accomplice launched into their visit, which included some probing questions from her accomplice, obviously fishing to see if Linda had been approached by law enforcement, leading to genuine relief when she realized that she hadn’t.
“Hope?” Edward turned to her, white shock on his face. “What the hell—”
“It’s not your wife, Mr. Willis,” Casey interrupted. “We watched this video many times and with great care. Her body language, her choice of words, her delivery—they’re all completely different. That woman is impersonating Hope. But she isn’t Hope. She’s Felicity.”
“Oh my God.” Vera’s legs buckled under her, and Patrick Lynch caught her before she dropped to the floor. “Oh my God,” she whispered again, staring blankly at the monitor as Patrick eased her into a chair. He himself was stark-white. “Felicity is…alive?”
“Yes.” Casey nodded. “She’s been with Linda all these years. Once we realized that, all the pieces fell into place. Why it was so easy for the kidnapper to masquerade as Hope. Why I never saw anyone but Hope come and go at the ransom drop. How the kidnapper got in here to steal Hope’s pendant and Krissy’s toy—and to knock Ashley out when she surprised her.”
“Felicity must have used Krissy’s keys,” Edward surmised, obviously shaken to the core. “They were in her backpack, along with our alarm code and Krissy’s cell phone. All our numbers are programmed into that phone. That’s how she managed to call Ashley’s cell in order to bypass the phone taps and get to Hope for the ransom money.”
“Money she was probably planning to use to raise Krissy,” Casey continued. “It’s also why the gardener was so convinced he saw Hope enter the house when Ashley was checking the mail. And why Claudia Mitchell had an unexpected and fatal experience at Sunny Gardens. She must have freaked out when she spotted the woman she thought had fired her. She was filled with pent-up anger—after having to apply for a job that was beneath her, and dealing with a boyfriend who was being held by the police. I’m sure she blamed Hope for the whole fiasco. My guess? She went over to confront her, only to realize it wasn’t Hope after all. Talk about ammunition. We all thought it was a mob hit. But it wasn’t. It was a desperate act committed by a desperate woman.”
Reflectively, Don added, “The mob did everything they could to get us off their backs. How ironic. The one thing they weren’t guilty of was the very thing that might have gotten them caught.”
“So Felicity ran Claudia Mitchell off the road?” Hope asked, her voice quavering with shock and pain. “My sister is a murderer?”
Casey took Hope’s hand. “She’s not stable, Hope. She probably shattered completely when she thought Claudia was going to undo everything she’d done. Krissy means everything to her. She’s transferred all the love she felt for Linda to Krissy. She’s frantic to hold on to her. It’s the only way she can hold on to herself.”
“But she doesn’t even know Krissy,” Edward protested.
“It doesn’t matter.” It was Hutch who spoke up now. “Casey’s right. Linda Turner was Felicity’s mother for thirty-two years. She kept Felicity isolated from the world. Linda became Felicity’s lifeline. When Linda’s illness made it impossible for her to continue living on her own, Felicity panicked. She was losing her mother. The only way she could survive was to repeat the cycle. It gave her a sense of completion.”
“Stockholm syndrome,” Patrick said.
“Exactly.”
“But how did she find me…us…Krissy?” Hope asked weakly.
“That I don’t know,” Hutch replied. “On some level, Felicity knew who she was. She knew she had a twin. If she kept tabs on you that easily, my guess is, she isn’t far away. Especially if she visits Linda every week.”
“Dear God.” Vera buried her face in her hands. “Linda comforted me. She became my friend. And all the time, she had my baby. My Felicity.”
“That’s probably why she inserted herself in your life,” Casey said. “She wanted to stay on top of the investigation, to make sure no one suspected her.”
“And no one did.” Patrick’s tone was grim. “Including me. I always held out hope that Felicity was alive. But not this way.”
