Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn #6)- Lisa Regan Page 0,10

and when she returned, she’d been forced to spend time on the desk. For once, Josie understood Chitwood’s reasoning. He was putting the case first. Still, Josie felt uncomfortable. She looked pointedly at Gretchen, but she just smiled and said, “I always hated doing press.”

Relieved, Josie turned to Colin and Amy. “It would be great if you could join me out there. I know you’re upset but if you could say a few words, it might help.”

Colin squeezed his wife’s shoulder. “I think it’s best if Amy talks.”

“No,” Amy said. “I—I can’t.”

Colin frowned at her. “Amy, you’re her mother. People connect to mothers. All you have to do is go out there and ask people to come help in the search. That’s it.”

Her eyes were wide with something beyond nervousness. More like terror, Josie thought. Amy clasped her hands together and held them to her chest. “I can’t be on TV,” she muttered. “I can’t be on TV.” Her gaze traveled back to Josie. “Please, just find my little girl. Please.”

Chitwood, Gretchen and Colin all started speaking at once, but Josie held up a hand to silence them. Some people were not equipped to speak in front of cameras at their best, let alone at their very worst and most frightened. “It’s okay,” Josie said.

“Quinn,” Chitwood began.

“No,” Josie said. “Mrs. Ross is right. The only face people should see on television tonight is Lucy’s.”

“We’ll give them the photo we were using earlier,” Gretchen said.

“Mettner,” Josie called out and from somewhere in the rear of the tent, he appeared. “Yeah, boss.”

“Just Josie is fine,” she said. “Mett, call Lamay and have him bring over a podium, then can you take that photo of Lucy and run it over to Staples, see if they can blow it up for us? That’s what we want people to see.”

“You got it,” Mettner said, jogging out of the tent.

Josie felt a clammy hand squeeze her own. She looked down to see Amy’s pale face staring up at her, more tears streaming silently down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered.

One of the sheriff’s deputies poked his head into the tent. “K-9 unit is two hours out.”

“Two hours?” Gretchen said. “They can’t get here any faster?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. They were already out on a case when you called up.”

Josie looked to one of the tables where a large brown bag sat, containing one of Lucy’s dirty shirts that Amy had taken from her hamper to give the dogs her scent. She looked back at the parents. “It’s okay,” she told them. “We’ll have teams out there searching continuously before the K-9 unit gets here.”

The press conference went off without a hitch, the blown-up photo of Lucy smiling while sitting on the carousel horse striking in its size, color, and because of the vibrant smile of the young girl. The WYEP producer promised it would be their top story. Afterward, Gretchen urged Amy and Colin to go home and get some sleep.

“I can’t,” Amy said. “Lucy’s still out there somewhere. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep until she’s home with me.”

Colin rubbed his wife’s back. “Ame, we need to rest.”

She glared at him. “Fine. You go rest. I’m waiting here for my baby.”

“Amy,” he said, his tone edging into annoyance.

She pulled away from him. “This is your fault, you know.”

He stumbled back a little, as if the accusation had delivered a physical blow. “What?”

She reached forward and snatched his cell phone from his hand. Before he could react, she threw it against one of the tent walls where it made a pop sound before crashing to the ground. “You and your stupid phone,” she spat. “If you had been able to put it down for five minutes to go on the ride with Lucy or even to watch her, maybe she would still be here.”

“You can’t—” Colin began but his words failed.

Amy’s face twisted in disgust. She raised both arms, hands in fists, and beat against his chest. “If you were watching her, you would have seen where she went. Instead, you were on your phone. Do you know that every time we went past you on that stupid ride, she called out to you?”

She hit him again and he took it. A single tear rolled down his face.

Amy kept going, her voice getting higher pitched. “She said, ‘look at me, Daddy! Look at me! I’m on the blue horse.’”

“I didn’t hear her,” Colin said softly. He caught his wife’s forearms. “Amy, it was one