want to explore her visions. She wanted to end them.
But the memory of Abby haunted her. Maybe she could make a difference in this case. If time didn’t run out.
She just had to make someone believe her.
AS MCBRIDE HAD SUSPECTED, Paul Leonardi had caused at least one incident at Westview Elementary, near the beginning of the school year. Unfortunately, if Lily Browning had any connection to Leonardi, neither the principal nor vice principal knew anything about it.
“I doubt it,” Carmen Herrera told McBride in her office a little before noon. “Lily’s something of a homebody—she doesn’t socialize that much, even with other teachers. I doubt she’d have any reason to know Mr. Leonardi.”
A loner with secrets, he thought, remembering his earlier assessment of her. Apparently he’d been spot on. “And there was only the one incident?” he asked.
“Yes, just the one. It wasn’t really that big a deal—he didn’t resist when security asked him to leave. I didn’t get the feeling he was really dangerous. Just heartbroken.” Carmen flashed a rueful smile. “We’ve all been there once or twice, haven’t we?”
He thanked her for her time and headed for the exit, slowing as he reached the half-open door to Lily Browning’s classroom. Today, it was full of children, who sat with rapt attention as they listened to Lily reading.
He wasn’t familiar with the book she’d chosen, but as she told the rollicking tale of a girl and her pet cat braving a violent thunderstorm to reach the girl’s injured father, he found himself seduced by her musical voice.
He paused outside the doorway to get a better look at her. She was perched on the edge of her desk, legs dangling. Today she wore her hair up in a coil, with wavy tendrils curling around her cheeks and neck.
It was soft, he remembered. Sweet-smelling, like green apples. He could still recall how she felt in his arms, trembling from her nightmare.
“That’s it for today, ladies and gentlemen,” Lily announced as she reached a shocking cliffhanger at the end of the chapter. She closed the book, came around the desk and slid it into her top drawer. Scattered groans erupted.
“Aw, Ms. Browning!”
“Can’t we read one more chapter?”
“If we finish the book today, what will we have to read tomorrow?” Laughter tinging her voice, she rose from her desk and started passing out sheets of paper. “Besides, Mrs. Marconi is waiting for you in the library. Let’s go, single file.”
McBride’s lips curved. Years passed, things changed, but teachers still lined their students up single file. He backed away, hoping to make a quick exit without being caught eavesdropping, but he hadn’t made it down the hall more than a couple of steps when Lily’s voice called out to him.
“Lieutenant McBride?”
Busted.
Chapter Four
Anxiety rippled through Lily’s belly. Why was Lieutenant McBride here? Had something happened? “Is there news?”
The single file line of students flowing out the door behind her began to devolve into chaos. Tamping down her fear, she quickly brought them back into order, glancing over her shoulder to make sure McBride hadn’t left while she was distracted. “Please wait here—I’ll be back in just a minute.”
She headed up the hallway with her brood, quelling small mutinies with a firm word or a quick touch of her hand on a troublemaker’s shoulder. Once they were out the door in the custody of the librarian, she hurried back to her classroom, afraid McBride would be gone. But she found him sitting on the edge of her desk, his expression unreadable.
“Is there news about Abby?” she asked.
“No. I was just following another lead.”
She cocked her head to one side. “Here?”
“Ever met a man named Paul Leonardi?” His gaze focused like a laser on her face.
She frowned, searching her memory. “Not that I remember.”
“He had to be escorted from the school grounds a couple of months ago, near the start of the school year.”
“Oh, that guy.” It had caused a big stink, generating a dozen new security policies. “Yeah, I heard about it, but I didn’t see it happen.”
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “You never saw this guy?”
She glanced at the paper. It looked like a driver’s license photo. The man in the picture was nice-looking in an ordinary sort of way. She shook her head. “Do you think he’s one of the kidnappers?”
“One of them? You think there’s more than one?” McBride’s eyes changed color, from smoky brown to mossy green. “Why do you think there’s more than one kidnapper?”
She licked her lips. “I had another vision. Abby in a car, huddled under some sort of blanket. One of the kidnappers hit her.” McBride’s hard gaze made Lily want to crawl into a hole, but she pushed ahead. “Whoever struck Abby was in the passenger seat, so someone else had to be driving.”
He rose from the edge of her desk. “If you remember anything about Mr. Leonardi, let me know.”
She caught his arm. “I can help you if you’d let me.”
He looked down at her hand, contempt in his eyes. “I’m up to my eyeballs in help, Ms. Browning. Every crackpot in the state seems to know what happened to Abby Walters.”
She dropped her hand quickly. “Including me?”
“Some of my people are handling the crackpot calls. I’ll tell them to expect yours.” He headed out to the hall.
Torn between irritation and humiliation, Lily watched him reach the exit and step outside. He couldn’t have made it any clearer that he didn’t want to hear what she had to say.
She’d have to deal with her visions of Abby her own way.
LILY HATED FUNERAL HOMES.
The newspaper had listed the time and place for the pre-funeral viewing. Her stomach churned at the thought of crashing the wake, but if she was going to find Abby, she needed to start with the people closest to her. Her father. Family and friends. Proximity to people who knew the subjects had always made her visions stronger in the past. It was one reason Lily had become something of a recluse in her personal life. Avoiding people was self-defense.
But this time, she needed the visions to come.
She spotted Carmen Herrera getting out of her car. Lily stepped out of her own car and met the assistant principal halfway to the door. “I was afraid I’d missed you.”
Carmen smiled sadly, putting her hand on Lily’s arm. “Thanks for volunteering to come with me. I hate wakes.”
“Me, too.” She followed Carmen up the steps to the funeral home entrance, distracted by a spattering of camera flashes.
“The press.” Carmen grimaced. “Ghouls.”
More flashes went off as they entered. The foyer’s faux marble floors and gilt furnishings gave the room a cold, austere feeling. Funereal, Lily thought with a bubble of dark humor. She tamped down a nervous giggle.
The small viewing chapel was packed with a combination of mourners and a few people Lily suspected were reporters who’d hidden their agendas along with their notepads to get inside.
Not that Lily could quibble about hidden agendas.
She signed the guest book and went with Carmen to the front, forcing herself to look at the body in the coffin.
Had Debra Walters been as lovely in life as the powdered, waxed and beautifully coiffed body in the