Free Peril by Jordyn Redwood Page A

control.”
    This was one of the strangest meetings Brett had ever participated in. Last week came the call from Dr. Adams. Honestly, after getting the good doctor’s alibi for Zoe Martin’s murder, Brett never thought he’d hear from him again. Not that Brett ever suspected Adams of any real wrongdoing, but after working with Nathan on the Lilly Reeves rape case, Brett had learned to keep his mind open to unexpected possibilities. Even when they flew in the face of all logic and reason.
    Needless to say, the call from Dr. Adams shocked him. The physician claimed that the girl who’d received Zoe’s heart was having memories of her donor’s murder. Could even provide a description of the assailant.
    At first, Adams had reassured the mother that nothing insidious was going on. What she termed “memories” were likely just dreams, or some strange form of post-traumatic stress. He explained that no matter how her mother tried to protect her from the story, Amy likely heard of Zoe’s case and was smart enough to infer she was the recipient of her heart. It was conceivable considering Zoe’s parents were on the news most nightstrying to keep Zoe’s case fresh in the minds of the press. What better way than to highlight the fact that part of Zoe was still alive through the transplant they’d agree to give?
    What prompted Dr. Adams to call Brett was the urging of his wife. Morgan Adams had a long history with Amy through her frequent visits to the pediatric ICU, and Joanna had called Morgan when Dr. Adams had dismissed her worrying. These visions Amy was having were beginning to affect her health negatively, and Morgan worried that Amy’s body would reject the heart transplant if the amount of stress the girl carried wasn’t reduced in a hurry.
    After talking it over with Nathan, Brett had taken his partner’s suggestion and called Derrick Vanhise, a Boulder-based psychiatrist. Vanhise suggested having Keelyn Watson interview the child, too. Keelyn was a body language expert and forensic interviewer and was developing quite a reputation for getting kids to disclose the heinous things done to them. Keelyn had special insight into police protocols as her husband, Lee, was a SWAT commander.
    Small world.
    So, now Dr. Vanhise, Keelyn, and Amy sat in a police interrogation room, not for the fear factor but for the use of the recording equipment. Keelyn wanted to review the tapes afterward, so she could slow down body movements for analysis.
    Vanhise sat next to Keelyn, his thin frame smartly dressed in khaki pants and a bluish-green plaid shirt. Brett was surprised he hadn’t shown up in his usual beachcomber attire, which, even for Boulder, bordered on strange. His black hair was combed and graying beard trimmed. For a young girl, his dress would exude the quiet calm of a professional there to help.
    Keelyn’s brown hair was pulled up into a sloppy bun. The harried readiness of a mom with a toddler at home. Keelyn’s hazel eyes sparkled joy behind her reading glasses. Her black skirt and teal pullover seemed too warm for summer. Then again, she didn’t have any extra fat on her to help maintain her temperature.
    Eight-year-old Amy seemed so small slumped in front of them. Blond hair in a ponytail and dressed in denim shorts and a glittery t-shirt with a unicorn on it. A blue-black hue tinged the skin under Amy’s eyes. Joanna said they were from environmental allergies and a complete lack of sleep.Allergic shiners. Amy’s hands were folded in front of her. Eyes warily scanning the room as another officer finished hooking up the recording equipment.
    Vanhise nodded toward Brett through the two-way glass signaling it was time to begin recording. In his hand, Brett held his field notes and Zoe Martin’s file so he could do some fact-checking against Amy’s story.
    â€œAmy, my name is Derrick, and I work with people when they are having trouble.