The Girl Who Disappeared Twice. Andrea Kane

that’s exactly what she got.

      CHAPTER TWO

       White Plains, New York Day One

      Family Court Judge Hope Willis had finished up the last case on her docket, made her ruling and dismissed the court. She was in and out of her chambers in minutes, pausing only long enough to shrug out of her judicial robe, gather some files and say a few words to her court clerk. Then, having made the transition from judge to mom, she blew out of the office and exited the building in record time.

      She hurried through the parking garage, delighted to be on her way home earlier than usual. She’d actually get to spend some time with Krissy—hearing about her day at kindergarten, helping her with her homework and just seizing the opportunity to be silly together.

      That was a rarity these days. Since Sophia Wolfe, the other family court judge in White Plains, had transferred, Hope’s caseload had increased. So had her hours, thanks to the fact that Claudia, her former court clerk, had broken up with her fiancé. She’d then weirded out on Hope, becoming difficult and snappish, and so out of it that she kept screwing up the docket. Because of their long history together, Hope had given her scads more chances until, finally, she’d had to let her go. Training a new clerk was brutal, and taking up far too much time and effort. There was only so much of Hope to go around.

      Which meant that her hours with Krissy were limited.

      And Edward? Talk about a strained marriage, and an equally strained family unit. Hope’s husband was almost never home. A defense attorney for a large, prestigious law firm with offices in both Midtown Manhattan and in White Plains, he worked obscene hours. In fact, other than an occasional and unplanned meeting in the courthouse, Hope seldom saw her husband, and Krissy saw him even less.

      There was a definite void there. So today was about Hope spending quality time with her five-year-old.

      She’d hurried through the parking lot, slid behind the wheel of her GMC Acadia and driven off toward Route 287 and their Armonk home.

      Naturally, there was traffic. These days, getting out of White Plains was almost as bad as getting out of Manhattan.

      Hope crawled along, finally reaching the highway, where she took advantage of the opportunity to rapidly accelerate. Eager to get home, she exited 287 and cruised onto Route 684 North.

      It was at that precise moment that Hope’s life changed forever.

      Everything might have been different.

      If Hope had glanced out her window. If she’d spotted the other SUV passing by, headed in the opposite direction. If she’d seen the small passenger in the backseat, slapping and yanking at the door handle in an attempt to escape—and failing, the door secured with a childproof lock.

       If …

      But Hope did none of these. Her mind was on getting home to Krissy.

      So, like two ships passing in the night, the two SUVs went their separate ways. Hope never saw the other driver. And the other driver never saw her.

      Focused on the road, Hope had no way of knowing what she’d missed, or how close she’d come to averting the hell that was about to begin.

      She was almost at the Armonk exit when her cell phone rang. A quick glance at the navigation system display told her that it was Liza Bock calling. Hope frowned. Liza’s daughter, Olivia, was in Krissy’s kindergarten class. And it had been Liza’s turn to drive the afternoon car pool that day.

      With a mother’s sense of unease, Hope pressed the button that connected the call. “Liza?”

      “Oh, Hope, thank goodness I reached you. I was afraid you’d still be at work.” Liza’s agitated tone did nothing to calm the growing distress knotting Hope’s gut.

      “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

      “Is Krissy with you?”

      “With me?” Waves of panic. “Of course not. I assumed you’d picked her up after school today, and dropped her home with Ashley.” Ashley was the Willises’ nanny, and had been since Krissy was born.

      “She’s not.” Liza’s voice was trembling now. “I just spoke to Ashley. She was very worried, so she called me. Krissy’s not there.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “When I got to school, the kids all said you’d picked her up,” Liza explained. “I double-checked with the faculty members on bus duty, and they confirmed. Everyone saw Krissy leave the school, and everyone heard her call out, ‘My mommy’s here!’ and run to your car. They recognized your silver Acadia. It never occurred to them … or to me …”

      “Are you saying Krissy’s gone?” Hope could hardly breathe.

      “I don’t know. I called all the other kids’ houses. No one’s seen her. I don’t understand.”

      “Liza, hang up and call the police. Tell them what happened. I’m calling Edward.” Hope disconnected the call.

      Twenty minutes later, she arrived home to mass pandemonium. Cops. Friends. Neighbors. Ashley, weeping when she ran up to Hope and announced that Mr. Willis had spoken with the U.S. Attorney, who’d contacted the FBI. As a result, specialized agents were on their way, both to the house and to Krissy’s school. Local police were already at the school, questioning everyone, including all the car pool parents, who’d been summoned back to the crime scene.

      Hope barely heard her nanny’s words. She pushed past everyone—including the cops who were clearly waiting for her to show up so they could talk to her—and raced upstairs. She ignored the yellow tape that read “Do Not Cross,” ducked under it and burst into Krissy’s bedroom.

      Pristine. Nothing disturbed. Nothing missing.

      Nothing anyone else would notice. Only Krissy’s mother. She noticed.

      Oreo, Krissy’s beloved stuffed panda, was gone. She slept with it every night, and left it on the center of the bed, covered by a tiny fleece blanket, while she was at school.

      Hope raced over to the bed and flung the pillows aside. Then, she dropped to her knees, peering under the bed to see if the panda had toppled beneath it. She groped around, praying. When she found nothing, she tore off the comforter and sheets, shaking them out like a wild animal. Nothing. She began rummaging through the closet. She opened the bureau drawers and dumped clothes onto the rug.

      “Judge Willis—stop it! We’ve sealed off this room.” Officer Krauss, a member of Armonk’s North Castle Police Department, hurried in. Having overheard the commotion coming from Krissy’s bedroom, he sized up the situation, stalked over to Hope and blocked her frantic motions with his forearm. “You’re contaminating personal items that could lead us to your daughter. We need her linens, her clothes—whatever we can use to find her. We also need you to provide us with a recent photo, a description of what she was wearing today, a full health history—and any information that might tell us who abducted her. We need you to focus and talk to us, not go ballistic.”

      Hope shoved his arm away and whirled around, whipping her head back and forth. “Talk to you? You’re supposed to be finding my child. Why are you all here instead of combing the streets looking for Krissy? She’s only been gone an hour. Now is the time to find her—before it’s too late. You need her personal things? Take whatever you want. Photos, yesterday’s clothes, her toothbrush. Check her comforter for prints. I doubt there’ll be any. This SOB is too smart not to wear gloves. But try. And what about Krissy’s school? That’s where she was abducted. Did the outdoor cameras pick up anything? Do you know anything?”

      “Nothing from the security cameras. But we have an entire team interviewing every member of the faculty.” Krauss narrowed his eyes and stared at Hope. “But I have to wonder why you’re tearing Krissy’s bedroom apart and insisting we check her comforter for fingerprints, when you yourself just said she was kidnapped from her school.