Stolen Daughters by Carolyn Arnold (top novels TXT) 📗

know that. Henry should be joining us shortly.” Leila lowered herself gracefully into a rose-patterned wingback chair. She sat with her legs tight together and clasped her hands in her lap. “Please. Sit.”

Amanda and Trent did as she asked.

“On the phone you said you may have news about Crystal.” Leila tilted out her chin.

Trent had convinced Amanda to call ahead on their way there.

“We believe—” Amanda was interrupted by a tuneful chime that started playing throughout the house.

“Never mind that,” Leila said. “It’s just the doorbell, and Tonya will get it. Henry’s likely here now. Please continue.”

It would seem the couple lived separately. “Let’s just wait a minute for him.” She smiled politely at Mrs. Foster and got the feeling she wasn’t used to being told what to do.

The woman pursed her lips and stared blankly across the room.

“Mr. Foster to see you,” Tonya announced at the entrance to the parlor.

At her side was a forty-something man dressed in suit and tie—both of which probably cost more than Amanda’s car—with gray hair and brown eyes.

“Hello,” he said to those in the room and settled his gaze on his wife.

Her eyes were ablaze, and it was obvious that the couple was in a rough patch—may have been for a while.

Henry sat down in a chair farthest from his wife. “When Leila called, she said you’d found Crystal?”

Amanda hadn’t exactly said that. Instead she’d kept things very vague and simply said she wanted to speak with them about their daughter. “Too soon to know yet, but we have questions we’d like to ask.” She paused there to take in the Fosters’ reactions. Leila was stoic, but Henry’s eyes were watery.

He cleared his throat. “What unit are you with?”

“Homicide.”

Leila gasped slightly and paled.

Henry gulped. “Then you believe she was, uh, murdered?”

“Let’s not jump ahead quite yet.” She smiled kindly at him. People like Henry always made her uncomfortable with how they wanted bad news delivered without delay, as if that would somehow make it easier to absorb. It was a “get it done and out of the way” mentality. But it was usually those people who had the hardest time processing loss. Amanda should know; she was one of those people. “I have a photo I’d like to show you. Now, please keep in mind that this girl was estimated to be sixteen. We understand that your daughter went missing three years ago, so if it is her, you may notice some differences.” Amanda pulled up the picture on her phone and did the rounds, holding the screen for each in turn. “Does that look like your daughter?”

Henry was biting his bottom lip while Leila’s expression lacked emotion, like she’d barricaded herself behind a wall to avoid feeling anything.

“It could be.” Henry looked at his wife, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Leila,” he prompted.

She looked at him now, but like before, there was a fire that burned in her eyes when she met her husband’s gaze. “It could be her, but it’s hard to say for sure. Where did you get that?” She flicked a finger toward Amanda’s phone, indicating the picture. “It looks computer rendered.”

Henry glanced over at Leila again, and his shoulders sagged. He turned to Amanda. “Is she dead?”

There’d be no more putting it off. “The girl pictured is, yes, but we need to determine if she was, in fact, your daughter,” Amanda started. “There was a dragonfly pin found with her, and it had the engraving ‘to our dear Crystal’ on the back. You had reported it—”

“I told you it would get our girl back,” Leila burst out and faced her husband.

Henry clenched his jaw, and tapped the arm of his chair, but said nothing.

Amanda thought she might have figured out what was going on here. “You reported the pin as stolen in the hopes that it would be found and, in turn, deliver your daughter to you?”

“That’s right.” Leila picked at something on her pant leg.

“The pin was a gift for her thirteenth birthday,” Henry volunteered. “That was four months before she disappeared. I can’t imagine her letting it out of her sight.” His eyes darkened as if he may be giving himself over to accepting that his daughter was dead. He added, “She loved dragonflies, always had a fascination with them since she was really little. That’s why Leila and I decided to get her the pin.”

Amanda could tell that Henry hadn’t truly let his daughter go, and she could understand the difficulty in that all too well. Letting go was more than a matter of release; it meant acceptance, which was even harder. “Do you know why she ran away?”

“She left us a note saying that she’d be better off on her own,” Leila stated.

Amanda wasn’t seeing evil in the Fosters, but if the girl in the morgue was, indeed, their daughter, the numerous broken bones and fractures were hard to ignore entirely.

“Did she say why?” Trent interjected.

A few seconds of silence passed before Leila spoke.

“You’re probably aware that my husband is the founder and CEO of Protect It.”

“We are,” Trent replied.

“Well, that kept him busy,” Leila added. “It also kept me occupied. The business grew fast, and we were left trying to catch up with everything that was happening. Crystal was three at the time we started the company. Before that, I was often at home. After, I just didn’t have the same amount of time. We employed a full-time nanny, and she basically replaced us—only she didn’t. Not really. Crystal started acting out and doing things to get our attention. We responded by buying her anything she wanted.”

And by doing so, they had rewarded bad behavior and became guilty of neglect. All this by the two people who should have made Crystal the priority in their lives. And maybe the physical abuse hadn’t come from the parents, but rather the nanny. Before she could ask about the woman, Henry spoke.

“Crystal got in with some kids at school who loved doing drugs and drinking.