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 casket? Seeing her now, Lily realized she did look a bit familiar. Maybe Mrs. Walters had been at a parent-teacher event earlier in the year. Or maybe it was just the resemblance between mother and daughter that struck a chord.
“There’s Mr. Walters.” Carmen moved toward a well-dressed man surrounded by a handful of fellow mourners. His newspaper photo didn’t do justice to his lean good looks, Lily thought.
She should join Carmen, take advantage of the opening to meet Abby’s father and see if he’d be receptive to her unusual method of finding his daughter. But a combination of guilt and fear held her back. There was something unseemly about using these particular circumstances to approach him with her offer of help.
“They did a good job, didn’t they?” a man’s voice asked.
Lily jerked her attention toward the questioner, a familiar-looking man of medium height with dark hair and mournful brown eyes. He met her gaze briefly before looking back at the body.
“But they didn’t capture who she really was.” Sadness tinged his voice. “She was the most alive person I ever knew.”
This was the man in the picture McBride had showed her, Lily realized. The one who’d come to the school looking for Debra. The hair on her arms prickled.
“Paul Leonardi. Debra and I dated a few months ago.” He held out his hand. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“No.” She made herself shake his hand. It was damp and hot, his handshake limp. She quelled the urge to wipe her palm on her skirt. “I’m Lily. I teach at Abby’s school.”
His expression darkened. “Horrible about the little girl.”
Interesting, she thought. He’d said “the little girl” as if Abby were an afterthought.
Paul’s eyes shifted away from her, his brow creasing. “Great. The cops are here.”
Lily followed his gaze and met the narrowed eyes of Lieutenant McBride. She looked away quickly, her heart clenching. Of course he was here. She should have anticipated it. He’d be hoping for the killer to show up.
Paul gritted his teeth. “Can’t I have one night to mourn her without the Gestapo breathing down my neck?”
“He has a job to do,” Lily responded, surprised to be defending McBride. “Don’t you want him to catch Debra’s killer?”
“Of course.” Paul directed his glare her way.
Unless you’re the killer, she thought, her heart leaping into her throat. Obviously, he’d had feelings for Debra, and from the way he’d phrased things earlier Lily gathered the relationship had ended, probably before he was ready.
Not a bad motive for murder.
To her relief, Carmen Herrera approached, Andrew Walters a step behind her. She put her hand on Lily’s shoulder. “Lily, this is Mr. Walters, Abby’s father. Mr. Walters, Lily Browning.”
To Lily’s left, Paul Leonardi stepped away before she was forced to make an introduction. He blended back into the rest of the crowd.
“It was kind of you and Mrs. Herrera to come. Abby’s teacher was here earlier to pay her respects, but it means a lot that you both came as well.” Andrew Walters took Lily’s hand, his expression eager. “Do you know my daughter well, Ms. Browning?”
Lily glanced at Carmen before she answered Walters’s question. “I don’t know her, really, but from all accounts she’s a delightful child.”
“She is.” Andrew Walters’s gaze softened.
Carmen