Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn #6)- Lisa Regan Page 0,43

set up a small table at the entrance, offering free coffee and pastries to law enforcement and civilian searchers. One of the local restaurants had set up another table nearby offering hot meals and various beverages. A crew from WYEP sat on benches nearby, all of their heads bent to their phones, except the cameraman who panned the area repeatedly with wary eyes, camera at the ready on his shoulder.

Inside the tent, Josie found Noah sitting at one of the folding tables, tapping away at a laptop in front of him. “You should ask those kids from the university for their drone footage,” she said as she sat next to him.

He turned and smiled at her. “Already did but we didn’t get anything. They were flying their drones over the rest of the city while the carousel was unattended.”

“I just can’t believe this guy snuck into the carousel while all these people were here,” Josie said.

“It’s kind of genius though,” Noah said as he pulled up the footage he had received from WYEP. “He blends into the crowd. No one is looking at the carousel.”

As the footage began to play on the laptop, Josie’s heart sank. “There were easily a thousand people here yesterday, and they all had backpacks.”

The camera focused on the entrance to the park, where the tent could be seen in the background. The reporter taped a spot while people milled around behind her. Then the footage cut to the line of searchers inside the park, panning the crowd. It focused on the carousel a few times for several seconds, but no one could be seen inside the perimeter of the ride. The reporter did another spot with the carousel behind her but again, no one suspicious appeared. Then the footage cut to various places around town where volunteers searched for Lucy.

Noah said, “He could easily have gotten into the carousel’s column once the search was underway. WYEP wasn’t taping there all day.”

Josie leaned across him and reset the footage to the beginning so they could watch again. “But he has to be here,” she said. “He must have been in the crowd.”

“Right but how could we possibly tell what he looks like? It’s not like this guy’s going to be wearing a T-shirt that says ‘Kidnapper’ on it. I mean all these people look the same—non-threatening. Except this guy.” Noah pointed to the screen. “He doesn’t look threatening. Just out of place.”

“Oh, tweed suit guy? I noticed him, too. I was thinking maybe he was a professor.”

“Should we find out who he is?” Noah asked.

“It can’t hurt,” Josie said. “But I don’t think the kidnapper would make himself so obvious. I’ve got to get back to Amy. Can you send this to my phone?”

“Will do,” Noah said.

“Let me know if anything develops.”

Her eyes searched the thin crowd of people as she made her way from the tent to her car, but no one stood out. Luke waved to her, and she gave an abrupt wave back, rushing to her car before he could approach. As she started her engine, nausea took hold of her stomach again.

Twenty-Four

Josie found Amy on the second floor inside a room that was clearly Lucy’s bedroom. It was decorated in pink—pastel pink paint covered the walls; pink unicorns danced along the border near the ceiling. Amy sat in a pile of stuffed animals on top of a twin bed ensconced in a white bedframe with a gauzy pink canopy draped over it. The carpet was plush and dark pink. All the furniture was white—dresser, toybox, and a small desk and chair. In one corner was a large easel with a three-drawer storage cabinet. Crayons, markers, construction paper and other craft items spilled out of the drawers. On the easel was a large picture drawn in crayon of a little girl with blonde hair standing next to a larger figure in a tan shirt and shorts with a net in his hand. Above their heads floated a dozen butterflies.

In fact, all over the room were signs of Lucy’s obsession with butterflies. There was a discarded net and jar next to the door. A blanket with butterflies on it was draped over a beanbag chair. Lucy had put butterfly stickers on the front of her dresser. A large poster hung on one wall with several butterflies on it, the names of their classifications below each one. Thrown in one corner was what looked like a pair of butterfly wings Lucy could wear on her