Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn #6)- Lisa Regan Page 0,121

found a shelter and stayed there until I made enough working odd jobs to get an apartment with a couple of other girls. I was Amy Walsh. I even used her high school transcripts to get into Denton University. No one ever asked any questions. Until Lucy disappeared.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Gideon?” Josie asked.

“I never thought even for a moment that he was behind this.”

“Did you ever look him up?”

Amy shook her head. She reached over to the side table, grimacing in pain, and snagged a tissue. She dabbed tears beneath her eyes. “I only ever looked Martin up to see if he was still alive. It wasn’t until he passed away a couple of years ago—I found his obituary—that I finally felt free. The obituary didn’t say anything about Gideon. I thought… I thought he was dead, too, but I couldn’t find anything online. But I didn’t look that hard, to be honest. I wanted that part of my life to be over. I never thought it would come at such a high price. I’m so sorry.”

Josie thought about the lives lost, sadness weighing her down. As if reading her thoughts, Amy said, “I will live with the guilt of what I did and what Gideon did for the rest of my life.”

Josie nodded, unable to speak. She couldn’t help but wonder if any lives could have been preserved had Amy been completely honest with them from the very beginning. Josie knew it wasn’t her job to judge Amy. Her job had been to bring Lucy home, and she had done it. She hadn’t walked in the shoes of Penny Knight or Tessa Lendhardt or even Amy Ross. It wasn’t her place to second-guess Amy’s life choices, and it wasn’t worth wondering what might have been. They all had to live with the aftermath of what had actually happened.

Josie’s gaze swept past Amy to the windowsill behind the bed. There was a small chrysalis made from gauze pads sitting on it. She would recognize Lucy’s work anywhere. She swallowed over the lump that had formed in her throat and returned her gaze to Amy. “I’m only going to say one thing: break the cycle with Lucy. She’s so smart, so precious. Help her to be strong, like steel, to know her own mind, and draw her own conclusions. She deserves that.”

More tears slid down Amy’s face. “She does, and I will. I promise.”

Seventy-Three

Josie drove home, her mind awhirl with the things Amy had told her. The gravity of the case still felt like a drag on her, the only thing lightening her mood that Lucy was safe and sound. She pulled into her driveway, noticing that Misty’s car wasn’t there. Neither was the rental that Trinity had driven there. She had come and stayed with Josie for a few days, and then returned to New York City after getting interviews from everyone she possibly could. Against her better judgment, Josie had even asked Colin to grant Trinity an interview, and he had agreed, mostly so he could publicly thank all the volunteers and law enforcement who had helped to recover Lucy.

Inside, Noah sat on the couch, his casted leg on top of her coffee table. “Hey,” he said, using the remote to mute her television. He patted the couch cushion next to him. “Come, sit.”

She plopped down next to him and looked around the room. For the first time in over a week, Harris’s toys weren’t strewn all over the floor.

Noah said, “Misty went home. Although she said she’ll call you next week about babysitting.”

Josie smiled. “I know she will. It will be weird without them. I was starting to get used to having them. Even that little dog. Man, can Misty cook.”

Noah nodded. “That she can. You know, I can cook, too.”

“I know that,” Josie said, staring at the television where a sitcom played silently.

“And we could get a dog if you want.”

She turned to him, brow raised. “‘We’ could get a dog? How would that work? You’d get him on Thursdays and every other weekend?”

He reached down between them and took her hand. “Or I could move in with you, and we wouldn’t have to split custody.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” he said quickly.

“About the dog or the moving in?”

He laughed. “Either. Both. Just think about it.”

“Noah, we’ve been through a lot these past couple of months—with your mom’s case. I’m not sure either one of us is clear-headed enough