After the monkey shed and shared his dirty diaper, Judge Calvin slammed the gavel, declared a mistrial on his own motion, and cleared the courtroom. The jury panelists fled.
But Desiree’s mother remained, fighting through the tide of departing jurors and shouldering her way to the counsel table.
Breeon watched her approach with a wary expression. When the woman was within earshot, Breeon said, “Now what’s all this about, Kim?”
The woman’s face was haggard. “It’s Desiree. She didn’t come home.”
Breeon’s voice was measured. “I’m sure sorry to hear that. But I haven’t seen her. And my daughter is at school. I dropped her off an hour ago.”
Elsie watched as the woman’s face crumpled. “No, don’t you see—she didn’t come home last night. She went for another photo shoot.”
Desiree’s mother drew a ragged breath. Elsie pulled out a chair from the counsel table. “Do you need to sit down, ma’am?”
The woman nodded, and dropped into the seat, her shoulders shuddering.
Elsie leaned beside her at the table. “I’m Elsie Arnold; I work with Breeon. You’re Desiree Wickham’s mom?”
“Yes.” She swiped her wet cheek. “Yes, I am.”
Over the head of Desiree’s mom, Elsie shot a questioning look in Breeon’s direction, but Bree lifted her shoulders and wrinkled her brow.
“What’s your full name, ma’am?” Elsie said. Her shoulders itched, and she gave an involuntary shudder. Because she was getting a bad feeling, like bugs were crawling up the back of her neck.
“Kim. Kimberly Wickham.” She grasped Elsie’s hand. “We have to find her. She’s all I got.”
Breeon spoke up. “Why would you think she’d be with Taylor? I know they’ve become friends this year, and Taylor had a sleepover at your house on Friday. But I can promise you, Taylor was at home last night. She was working on her project for social studies.”
“I know. That’s the problem. Desiree went alone to the photo shoot this time, because Taylor was busy with her homework.” Her voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have let her go alone.”
A chill ran through Elsie. In an urgent tone, she asked, “Where did Desiree go?”
“Another shoot. For a catalogue. He said she was gonna be in Veronica’s Secret.”
Elsie squeezed Kim Wickham’s hand. “Who said?”
“Tony.”
“Tony,” Elsie repeated, dropping the woman’s hand. The bugs under her skin multiplied, and began to hum in her ears.
Kim Wickham pulled a battered Veronica’s Secret catalogue from her purse and smoothed it out on the counsel table. “She’s been practicing. Her poses, her expressions. It’s the happiest I’ve seen her since the pageant days.”
Breeon’s expression had grown forbidding. “How long has she been missing?”
“Since Sunday afternoon. I was working at Tyler’s Market. I thought she’d be home before dark. She rode her bike to Denny’s.”
Elsie shook her head in confusion; why would she do a photo shoot at Denny’s? Was the Tony at Denny’s the same guy as the Tony who had assaulted Mandy at the Rancho? How had the child encountered him? Before she could ask, Breeon broke in.
Breeon’s brows made an angry furrow between her eyes. “Your fourteen-year-old daughter has been gone all night? Have you called the Barton police?”
Kim rubbed the wrinkled catalogue cover reflexively. “No. I didn’t know what I ought to do. I thought everything must be all right. It went real late the first time, when he photo’ed Des and Taylor together.”
Breeon took a backward step. Her eyes narrowed. “What did you just say?”
“I said it went really late that night, and I worried about it then, but they got home just fine.”
Breeon reached out and grasped the woman’s arm. “What did you say about Taylor? Some man photographing Taylor?”
Elsie reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone. She stepped away from the counsel table and dialed Ashlock. To her relief, he picked up immediately.
“What’s up, Elsie?”
Voices at the counsel table were growing more agitated. Elsie walked to the jury box. “Ashlock, it’s a missing person situation. A middle school girl. Her mom is here at the courthouse.”
“How long?”
“Since yesterday afternoon. Not twenty-four hours, but Ash, she’s a kid.”
“Runaway?”
“No.” She dropped her voice. “Supposed to be a photo shoot. For modeling.” She paused for emphasis. “With a guy named Tony.”
She heard him hiss into the phone; his substitute for swearing, when he was in the presence of others. Aside from Elsie, anyway.
“Do you want me to come to the courthouse? Or will you bring her over here?”
Elsie eyed the two women warily. Tensions were running high.
“I believe I’ll bring them over to you.”
“Them?” The phone was growing warn. She switched ears.
“Yeah.”
“More than one?”
“Yeah. Breeon needs to come along, too.”
She ended the call and approached the table, taking care to wear a businesslike face.
“Just talked to Detective Ashlock,” Elsie said in a brisk voice. “He’d like to see you all.” They looked up at her, and she added: “Now.”
Breeon seemed to digest the summons for a moment. Then, with a nod, she picked up her briefcase. “Okay. Let’s go.”