Kaycee stared with burning eyes past the red boxcar museum on Rice. She wanted to turn back time. If only she could place herself right here last night, ready and waiting to intercept Hannah.
The weight of being watched fell heavily on Kaycee’s shoulders. She swiveled to look up Main Street. A woman was entering the office of the Good News organization. Two people were coming out of the nearby Jessamine Creek Berry Company. On Kaycee’s side of the street a mother with toddler in tow headed for the drug store. No one paid Kaycee any heed.
Where were her tormentors? Had they taken Hannah?
Chief Davis pulled into the parking area and slid from his car. Kaycee watched him approach, dark imaginings tumbling through her head.
“Kaycee.” He nodded to her without slowing. “Come on inside.” He swung open the glass door to the building.
Kaycee scurried after him, casting final glances up the street.
In the police station, she, Mark, and the chief gathered around the desk where Rich sat. Once more Rich ran the film of Hannah turning up Rice Street. Kaycee watched with hands clasped beneath her chin, unable to tear her eyes away. Chief Davis looked on in silence.
When the sequence ended he inhaled deeply. “You looked further on in the tape?” he asked Rich.
“Yeah, while you were getting here. Haven’t seen her appear again.”
“Any vehicles come down from Rice Street soon after that?”
“No.”
“How about turning onto Main from South Maple?”
Rice Street curved right and became Walters Lane, which ended at South Maple in front of Kaycee’s house. Someone could have picked up Hannah, come down South Maple, and turned onto East Main, either right or left. As Kaycee remembered, at least one of the screens she’d seen in Chief Davis’s office displayed Main Street farther up, toward the Subway sandwich shop on the corner of South Lexington — Highway 29 — and Fitch’s IGA behind it. Perhaps other cameras showed Highway 29 both to the right and left of the Main intersection.
“A few. We didn’t see any sign of her in those cars, but I got their license plates. I’ll run them down. I’ve done a slow fast forward for the next hour on the camera aimed at Rice Street.”
“Switch over and do an hour on the South Maple intersection.”
“Okay.” Rich turned back to his work.
“She could have made it to my house.” Kaycee could barely speak above a whisper. “Maybe she waited there a long time, hoping I’d come home . . .”
Chief Davis nodded. “Keep watching the tapes, Rich.” He turned to Mark. “Where’s that picture with the blood?”
“Here.” Mark walked over to his desk and picked up the bagged photo. He gave it to the chief.
Narrowing his eyes, Chief Davis studied it. He turned it over to see the back, then returned it face up. “Kaycee, I need to hear everything you told Mark. Let’s go in my office.”
Ever calm, that voice of his. Kaycee heard no judgment in his tone. Even so, the words ripped through her. She should have told him about the picture on her desktop that morning. If she’d made this possible connection to Hannah’s disappearance sooner, maybe these last hours wouldn’t have been wasted. Wordlessly she picked her purse off the chair near Mark’s desk and followed the chief into his office.
The chief sat down at his desk, Mark and Kaycee taking chairs on the other side. Behind the chief the six screens ran live video. He leaned forward, fingers laced, and focused on Kaycee. “I’m listening.”
She started at the beginning with the previous evening, since the chief still hadn’t had time to read all of Mark’s report. Then she told him about the desktop picture, and finally, the blackened photo now lying on his desk. As with Mark, she didn’t mention her dream and its dark yellow floor come true. Or how she’d smelled blood while going up her stairs — before it smeared on her fingers from the third photo.
The chief asked her a string of questions about last night and this morning. He wanted details on all three pictures she’d seen. He found it significant that the blood on this third photo had not dried by the time she found the picture, meaning it couldn’t have been on there long.
“Where’s your car?” he asked Kaycee.
“Across the street. I drove it here.”
“Is it locked?”
She nodded.
“Would you leave me the key? We’ll need to dust it for prints. We’ll also need to dust certain parts of your house and take a look at your computer — ”
Rich stuck his head in the door. “Nothing coming from South Maple over the next hour.”
Chief absorbed the news. “Okay. Keep looking on both intersections. I’m going to go ahead and call in a volunteer tracking team. The dog can start where we last saw Hannah.”
Search and rescue. Kaycee’s last bit of hope that Hannah was hiding somewhere gusted away, a milkweed on the wind. Kaycee’s tone flattened. “How long until a team can get here?”
“Depends on who’s available. Numerous volunteers live around Wilmore. I’ll start with them and work my way out.” Chief Davis reached for the phone, shooting a look at Mark. “When I’m done with this call I want us to take a walk up Rice Street. Then I’ll deal with this blood sample.”
Mark nodded and rose. Kaycee pulled the car key from her purse and placed it on the chief’s desk, then followed Mark from the office. They stood by Emma’s work area, at the moment empty. Kaycee averted her eyes from the heartrending sight of Hannah’s sad face gazing up from the stacked flyers. “When you walk up Rice Street I want to come with you.”
Mark pulled in a deep, tired breath. “If Chief says it’s okay.”
She looked away. “What will he do with the blood?”
Mark’s hands fell to his waist, one resting on his weapon. Why did policemen stand like that so often? Like they were going to draw the gun any minute. “We’ll send it to the lab.”
“Where’s that?”
“Frankfort.”
The capital of Kentucky, about an hour’s drive away. “To do a DNA test to see if it’s Hannah’s?”
“That takes weeks. But it won’t take long to see if it’s human blood, and if the type matches Hannah’s.”
What if it did? Kaycee’s knees weakened. Her gaze rose past Mark’s shoulder to Rich, who sat staring at the monitor. She could hear the chief on the phone. Sounded like he’d gotten through to some track-dog team.
“If it matches Hannah’s . . .” Kaycee’s throat closed up. She lifted a hand, palm out, and shook her head.
Mark touched her shoulder. Her skin tingled beneath his fingers. “Whatever happens, Kaycee, you’re not to blame for this.”
“But I am. If somebody’s out to get me, and got Hannah instead . . .”
“We don’t know that. There are still way too many unanswered questions. And even if it turns out to be true, that’s not your doing.”
It would be because of her, and that was enough. Hannah’s face on the flyers pulled at Kaycee’s eyes. She’d thought being watched in her own home was her worst fear come true. That wouldn’t come close to feeling responsible if something had happened to Hannah.
Kaycee’s mouth trembled. “You were right, Mark,” she whispered. “I should never have written my columns. They started all this.”
“Listen to me; we don’t know that.”
She pressed her lips together hard and closed her eyes. After a shaky moment she cocked her head in an unconvinced nod.
In his office Chief Davis said thanks to someone on the phone. Kaycee heard the clatter of a replaced receiver. He strode through his door and headed for Rich at the monitor. “Anything new?”
“Not yet.”
He scratched his eyebrow. “I got Seth Wheeler and his hound on the way. They’ll be here in half an hour.” The chief handed Rich Kaycee’s key. “Would you get somebody on to dusting Kaycee’s Cruiser for prints? It’s across the street. Tell them to pay special attention to the driver’s door and visor. The tech also needs to go to her house. We’ll need to do doors and the kitchen area there. And the office. Plus we’re going to have to find someone to look at her computer system. For right now Mark and I are going to take a walk up Rice Street.”