Free Stop Me by Brenda Novak Page A

dim lighting made it hard to see much detail, but she knew without drawing closer that it was Adele. That picture had been used in the newspaper and in the police flyers.
    Fornier had kept one concession to the past.
    He was still waiting for her to go, but she moved toward the picture instead—
    and an image crystallized in her mind.
    “We’re finished here,” he bit out.
    Jasmine barely heard him. She was having one of her visions, a random impression that came to her—a man’s hand, reaching into a locker somewhere to pick up a child’s pendant. She’d had enough experience with her abilities to know what it was, but that kind of sudden knowledge—of another place, another time—
    always unnerved her.
    “Ms. Stratford?”
    Straightening, she confronted Fornier. “It wasn’t a crime of opportunity.”
    “Your sister?”
    “Your daughter.”
    His chin jutted out. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about my daughter.”
    “I’m only telling you in case you’ve been beating yourself up for letting her ride her bike home alone.”
    The blood drained from his face, making him almost ghostlike in the dark room. “It was only around the block,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.
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    She tried not to experience his pain—but that was impossible. “He stole her necklace from somewhere before that. I don’t know when, but it was at a—a gym or a dance class or maybe a swimming pool. Someplace that has lockers.”
    “No, she lost it. I remember her crying when she couldn’t find it.”
    “She didn’t lose it. He took it.”
    “How do you know?” Cautious hope touched his voice. But Jasmine didn’t answer. He wouldn’t believe her even if she told him.
    “I’m sure that’s why he went to the school. He was already fixated and he would’ve found her eventually,” she said instead, hoping it’d make a difference in Fornier’s recovery. Then, brushing past him, she headed to her car.
    “What’d the necklace look like?” he called after her.
    “You know what it looked like.”
    “I’m wondering if you do.”
    “It was the plastic Belle you bought at Disney World.” Romain hadn’t bought it at Disney World. He’d bought it at the Disney store.
    But that seemed a minor difference when there were so many other types of necklaces she could’ve named. She hadn’t said it was a gold locket or a silver heart or a pink ribbon. She’d correctly identified Adele’s necklace as the Disney character Belle….
    How?
    He paced his living room, too keyed up to sit down. He’d moved to the bayou to gain some distance from the rest of the world. He’d needed breathing room, the peace of nature, a chance to achieve a better perspective on a society he no longer trusted. And he’d been doing that.
    Until tonight. Who was this woman who’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere?
    He had only her name and a few sentences about her sister being abducted sixteen years ago. But she’d understood, immediately, the regret that corroded his soul. Not for shooting the man who’d killed Adele. He felt no remorse for that—
    couldn’t even remember actually pulling the trigger. It was the fact that he’d allowed such a despicable human being to get control of his daughter in the first place that hurt. As Adele’s father, he should’ve protected her, should’ve refused to let her ride her bicycle to Elizabeth’s house that day or any day.
    He hadn’t realized that a block—a block—could pose such risk. They’d lived in a good neighborhood. But it’d happened anyway, and now it was too late. He’d lost his little girl in the worst possible way and every time he closed his eyes, he saw her being whisked off her bike and forced into Moreau’s rusty van, imagined the unspeakable torture she’d suffered. Torture that wouldn’t have happened if he’d said no….
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    Suddenly, he was standing in front of the bookcase, where her sweet face smiled back at him. “I’m sorry,” he