Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn #6)- Lisa Regan Page 0,66
desk and help with that.”
“Great,” Gretchen said. “By the way, the real John Bausch’s son-in-law checks out.”
“No surprise there,” Josie said.
Mettner came in and grabbed the remote control for the television hanging on the wall in the corner of the room, flipping it on. The screen flickered to life, already tuned to WYEP, which was broadcasting the scene in Denton’s municipal parking lot below. There were too many reporters to have it indoors. The four of them watched as Special Agent Oaks walked up to a podium covered in microphones, followed by Chief Chitwood and Colin and Amy. The parents clung to one another, looking frightened and lost.
“Shouldn’t you be down there?” Noah asked Josie. “Oaks has you on Amy, right?”
Josie motioned to her face, which still bore dark bruising around her eyes. “Chitwood doesn’t want me out there looking like this. It would be a distraction, he said.”
Gretchen made a phone call and a few moments later, a couple of uniformed officers came up to get her warrants for footage from the places Amy had visited with Lucy in the last two months so they could be served as soon as possible.
The room fell silent as the press conference started. Oaks gave a brief update, sharing the photos and composite of the bug expert impersonator and asking the public for help. He took questions for a very short amount of time and then ended the press conference. Josie knew that Oaks had chosen not to have either parent speak because he didn’t want to give the kidnapper what he wanted, which was to see the parents suffer. At the same time, it had been important for both of them to be present and seen on camera so the public would be more inclined to help. It had taken some convincing to get Amy on camera. Ultimately, since she didn’t have to speak, she had relented.
“Well,” Noah said. “Hopefully the tip line will be ringing off the hook.”
“The FBI is manning the tip line,” Gretchen said. “I say we all go home and get some sleep and come back at this tomorrow well-rested.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Noah.
Thirty-Five
At home, Josie left Noah in the kitchen with Misty, who had cooked up a large amount of eggplant parmesan—far more than necessary to feed three adults and little Harris. The smell followed Josie to the living room, making her feel sick instead of hungry. She swallowed down bile and dialed Trinity. “Tell me you have something,” she said when her sister answered.
Trinity sighed. “I’ve got competition, is what I’ve got. The FBI just descended on this place like there was some damn national emergency.”
“They do that sometimes.”
“Well, I found the house that used to belong to a Dorothy Walsh. It was sold seventeen years ago by Renita Walsh. I couldn’t get my hands on the old deeds, but it appears as though Renita got the house after the mother died and lived there for a few years before moving on. I haven’t been able to find any Renita Walsh—not here, anyway. I did find information for a woman called Renita Desilva who is about the right age and now lives in Binghamton, New York. I have a call out to her but no response yet. There’s one neighbor, elderly, who remembers them. The story matches up: mom and sister died in a car accident. Renita stayed in the house for a few years and then sold it to a young family.”
“That’s it? Did she remember Amy? Did she have anything to say about her?”
“That she was a nice girl. Very quiet.”
Josie blew out a breath. “Well that just sends up all kinds of red flags, doesn’t it?”
Trinity laughed. “I’m not done. Tomorrow I’m going to go over to the high school and see if I can get some old yearbooks. The elderly neighbor doesn’t remember Amy having any boyfriends, but if the abusive relationship that Amy mentioned was really ‘kid stuff’ then maybe there will be something in the yearbooks. Then I’ll go to the local library and search their database for old news stories in the Fulton Daily News. See if any of the Walsh ladies are mentioned there. Then if I haven’t heard from Renita Desilva, I’ll head down to Binghamton and make a house call.”
“Great,” Josie said. “Thanks. I appreciate this.” Her finger hovered over the End Call icon. Then Trinity’s voice came again. “Josie?”