Chapter 13 #3
Kennedy nodded, tears glistening on her lashes. “Thank you.”
Hastily, Maureen gestured for Casey and Claire to reseat themselves on the sofa, and for Kennedy to join them. “All of you relax. I baked Irish soda bread for everyone. I’ll go get it while you ladies chat.”
Kennedy watched her aunt head off to the kitchen. “If Aunt Maureen baked, that means she knew you were coming. I get the feeling this was planned.” A panicky look crossed her face. “There’s no bad news about Mommy, is there?”
Immediately, both women shook their heads.
“We’re searching hard for her, sweetie,” Claire said, patting the cushion between Casey and her, waiting until Kennedy had plunked down. “And we’ll find her, bring her back to you. You’ll see.”
The panic dissipated, but the insightfulness did not.
“You want to ask me questions, don’t you?” Kennedy asked, glancing from one of them to the other. “To see if I remember anything that could help? I know that Agent Barkley from the FBI plans to do that. Late last night, I heard Aunt Maureen and Uncle Colin talking.”
Ideal, Casey thought. Not only smart and intuitive, but a good eavesdropper.
Casey didn’t have to glance over at Claire to know she was thinking the same thing. But she fell silent, letting Claire take the lead.
“Yes, sweetie, we do have questions,” Claire began. “And not only to prepare you for Agent Barkley. To help us figure out the reason all this happened.” She squeezed Kennedy’s hand. “You know your uncle Ryan. He likes to be first at everything, including getting answers.”
“Your team is competing with the FBI for first place,” Kennedy stated.
“Just like when I’m in a taekwondo competition.
” She swallowed hard. “Only, in this case, it’s to figure out who’d do such horrible things to my parents.
”Claire nodded, taking Kennedy’s hand in hers.
“You’re incredibly smart and mature, Kennedy.
So I know you get it. Casey and I are counting on your thinking back over the past few weeks, even months, and hopefully remembering something that would help us. ”
A frightened spark flickered in Kennedy’s eyes. “Like what?”
Claire continued to hold Kennedy’s hand, her expression taking on that all-too-familiar crystallized awareness.
“You’ve been reliving Friday over and over—ever since Agent Barkley told you the heartbreaking news.
I understand. I also understand you’re forcing yourself not to think about the week or two before that.
But now I need you to do just that, to try to recall anything you either felt or overheard at home.
Did your mom and dad talk about anything that scared you?
Did they seem scared themselves? Were you worried about them—or about anything that might happen to them? ”
It was obvious that Claire’s gently spoken questions had struck home.
Kennedy began to tremble. Tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks as she responded.
“Lately, when they talked, it was in their room with the door shut,” she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
“They never did that before. Except for surprises, we didn’t keep secrets.
But this wasn’t just a secret, it was something bad. Very bad. I just knew it.”
She paused, sucked in her breath. “Then, a week ago, when I’d gone back to my room, I heard Daddy open the door and walk out into the hall.
So I crept to the doorway and listened. Mommy was crying, saying how scared she was.
Daddy told her he’d make everything right, that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt our family. But I knew someone was trying to.”
“Did he say who that someone was?” Claire asked. “Or where he knew him from?”
Kennedy shook her head.
“Okay.” A soothing nod. “What else did your daddy say?”
“Nothing. He went downstairs to the kitchen and brought back two cups of coffee. I was crouched in my room, so he didn’t see me. He just went back into their bedroom and shut the door again.”
“But you tried to listen,” Claire said.
A shaky nod. “I pressed my ear against the door and held my breath so I could hear. Mommy was crying and crying. Daddy was talking quietly to her. I heard him say something about digging for information and finding enough to take action. I don’t know what kind of action, because their voices got very low, and all I could hear were Mommy’s sobs.
I didn’t want them to find me there, because it would upset them more than they already were.
So I went back to my room. But after that, they were different.
Sad. Worried. Mommy hugged me a lot. Daddy spent more time on his computer. ”
Kennedy broke down, pulling her hand away and covering her face as sobs racked her body. “Now Daddy is dead. And I don’t know where Mommy is. Who did this? Why? I should have listened harder.”
Claire squatted down in front of Kennedy and gripped her shoulders. “Sweetie, none of this is your fault. Whoever did this is evil. The fault is theirs. You’re a wonderful daughter and a wonderful person. I promise you, we’ll figure this out.”
“How can you be so sure?” Kennedy wept.
“I just am.” Claire paused, glanced quickly at Casey, and—despite their original decision to avoid conveying any concrete hope—received her nod.
“Kennedy, let me tell you something about myself, something I only talk about with my friends. I sometimes just know things. I have no idea how or why that happens, but flashes of awareness come to me, and I’m very sure they’re true.
After talking with you, holding your hand—this is one of those times. ”
Kennedy’s head came up, and she stared at Claire through her tears. “Are you a psychic?”
Claire shook her head. “I’m what’s called a claircognizant.
Everything I just described to you—that’s what a claircognizant is.
I realize that no one can bring back your daddy.
But the rest—my instincts tell me that everything will be okay.
” She could sense Maureen’s presence in the doorway. “I’m asking you to believe me.”
Kennedy didn’t avert her gaze. “Mommy’s alive, isn’t she?”
“I believe she is, yes.”
A long pause as Kennedy fought for control. “Then I believe it, too.” New tears flowed. “How will you find her?”
“We’re working on that round the clock. Especially your uncle Ryan. Have faith in him, in all of us. We won’t let you down.”
Kennedy flung her arms around Claire’s neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She dried her eyes. “Do I have to tell Agent Barkley about this?”
“No,” Casey intervened. “And not because you’re lying.
We’d never ask you to do that. The truth is, Agent Barkley would probably think it was just wishful thinking on your part.
More importantly, we have no proof to share with him.
Once we do, we’ll tell him right away.” She gestured for Maureen to join them.
“For now, let’s just sit together and have some of your aunt Maureen’s soda bread.
Be strong. As soon as we have answers, so will you. ”