you're looking for?" Skye purposely used the present tense. She refused to believe they'd already lost the child when they were doing everything they could to recover her.
"Only three."
So young... That meant they couldn't rely on any help from her. At that age, she wouldn't know her own telephone number or even 911. "Are you sure she didn't wander off?"
"I'm sure."
"How do you know?"
There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. "I just do."
In other words, she could "feel" it. She didn't like saying so because she knew it sounded hokey and unbelievable. Jasmine explained her gift as a sort of sixth sense about certain people. She was the first to admit she couldn't read minds or envision the past or future. Neither could she lead police directly to a kidnap victim or perpetrator. Rather than crystal-clear answers, she received impressions, which often resulted from touching something that had belonged to the kidnapper or victim, or being in their homes, cars or workplaces.
Combined with all the study she'd done on criminal behavior and psychology, these impressions had been enough to save more than a few victims. And Jasmine seemed to be getting better as she learned to trust her intuition. A few of her cases had even garnered national attention. In the Ubaldi case, a child had been stolen from a school playground and Jasmine had assisted authorities in tracking down the middle-aged woman who'd taken her. She'd known the woman lived near the school, had been adamant that they continue to check the houses on the same block.
"This was a crime of opportunity," she was saying. "It was someone who either lives close by or has been visiting the area."
"Have you canvassed the neighborhood?"
"There isn't really a neighborhood to canvass. The mom's single but living with her boyfriend in an older home set off in the woods."
"Do the police have any suspects?"
"They believe the mother is covering for the boyfriend."
"You don't?"
"No."
45
The rain pounded harder, but Skye ignored it. Block it out. It won'tflood. She 'd be able to drive away anytime she wanted. "What's her story?"
"Six days ago, the mother put the child down for a nap and lay down herself. When she woke up, Lily was gone."
"Where was the boyfriend?"
"He claims he loaded their Christmas tree in the back of his truck and went to get rid of it."
"No one can confirm his whereabouts during that time?"
"He took police to where he dumped the tree, but there's no way of telling how long he was gone."
"No one saw him?"
"He purposely avoided being seen. He didn't want to get fined for dumping the tree on private property."
Crossing the room, Skye tried to lower the blind at the window but couldn't get the knot out of the cord. She'd tied it earlier, when she'd been trying to get the damn thing to stay up. "No evidence of an intruder at the house?"
"No forced entry. But the doors weren't locked, so anyone could've walked in. The only clue is an odd-size footprint in the mud near the front walkway."
Skye glared at the water-streaked window with the broken blind. She wanted that blind down. It felt like someone was out there, watching her.
But she knew she was just letting the old fear get to her again. Burke's release was hitting her hard, making her regress. It's a kitchen window. A lot of people don't even put blinds on a kitchen window. "What's odd about the size of the footprint?"
"It's too small for the boyfriend and too big for the mother."
"What about a serviceman, the postman, the meter reader?"
"The mother says there hasn't been anyone else at the house for days, yet it's a fresh print."
"That is strange."
"They're taking impressions. We'll see if we can find a match."
Skye's call-waiting beeped, and she frowned in surprise. It was after midnight on a Monday night. Who would be calling so late? She would've checked the caller ID, but it didn't register a second caller's number when she was already on the phone.
Assuming it was
"Only three."
So young... That meant they couldn't rely on any help from her. At that age, she wouldn't know her own telephone number or even 911. "Are you sure she didn't wander off?"
"I'm sure."
"How do you know?"
There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line. "I just do."
In other words, she could "feel" it. She didn't like saying so because she knew it sounded hokey and unbelievable. Jasmine explained her gift as a sort of sixth sense about certain people. She was the first to admit she couldn't read minds or envision the past or future. Neither could she lead police directly to a kidnap victim or perpetrator. Rather than crystal-clear answers, she received impressions, which often resulted from touching something that had belonged to the kidnapper or victim, or being in their homes, cars or workplaces.
Combined with all the study she'd done on criminal behavior and psychology, these impressions had been enough to save more than a few victims. And Jasmine seemed to be getting better as she learned to trust her intuition. A few of her cases had even garnered national attention. In the Ubaldi case, a child had been stolen from a school playground and Jasmine had assisted authorities in tracking down the middle-aged woman who'd taken her. She'd known the woman lived near the school, had been adamant that they continue to check the houses on the same block.
"This was a crime of opportunity," she was saying. "It was someone who either lives close by or has been visiting the area."
"Have you canvassed the neighborhood?"
"There isn't really a neighborhood to canvass. The mom's single but living with her boyfriend in an older home set off in the woods."
"Do the police have any suspects?"
"They believe the mother is covering for the boyfriend."
"You don't?"
"No."
45
The rain pounded harder, but Skye ignored it. Block it out. It won'tflood. She 'd be able to drive away anytime she wanted. "What's her story?"
"Six days ago, the mother put the child down for a nap and lay down herself. When she woke up, Lily was gone."
"Where was the boyfriend?"
"He claims he loaded their Christmas tree in the back of his truck and went to get rid of it."
"No one can confirm his whereabouts during that time?"
"He took police to where he dumped the tree, but there's no way of telling how long he was gone."
"No one saw him?"
"He purposely avoided being seen. He didn't want to get fined for dumping the tree on private property."
Crossing the room, Skye tried to lower the blind at the window but couldn't get the knot out of the cord. She'd tied it earlier, when she'd been trying to get the damn thing to stay up. "No evidence of an intruder at the house?"
"No forced entry. But the doors weren't locked, so anyone could've walked in. The only clue is an odd-size footprint in the mud near the front walkway."
Skye glared at the water-streaked window with the broken blind. She wanted that blind down. It felt like someone was out there, watching her.
But she knew she was just letting the old fear get to her again. Burke's release was hitting her hard, making her regress. It's a kitchen window. A lot of people don't even put blinds on a kitchen window. "What's odd about the size of the footprint?"
"It's too small for the boyfriend and too big for the mother."
"What about a serviceman, the postman, the meter reader?"
"The mother says there hasn't been anyone else at the house for days, yet it's a fresh print."
"That is strange."
"They're taking impressions. We'll see if we can find a match."
Skye's call-waiting beeped, and she frowned in surprise. It was after midnight on a Monday night. Who would be calling so late? She would've checked the caller ID, but it didn't register a second caller's number when she was already on the phone.
Assuming it was
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