procedural. So there might be things you can tell me that will help us help the authorities.”
“Like what?”
Casey clicked on her ballpoint pen and leaned forward. “Like giving me a mental picture of Krissy. Not her appearance—I can study the cops’ photo 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
“Like what?”
Casey clicked on her ballpoint pen and leaned forward. “Like giving me a mental picture of Krissy. Not her appearance—I can study the cops’ photo 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
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