“I want to go in,” she said.
Wyatt looked at the window, and she sensed he was running calculations.
“Maybe she’ll talk if it’s just me,” Kori said, determined to plead her case. “One woman to another. No badge, no uniform.”
A beat passed, and Wyatt looked at the deputy, who nodded.
Then Wyatt turned back to Kori. “Fine. But the door stays open.”
“Thank you.” She gathered herself before stepping inside.
She’d questioned and interviewed plenty of people before in her role as an attorney. But this felt different.
This might be personal.
The room was warm and still. A monitor beeped softly to the left. Kori crossed to the chair beside the bed and sat down.
The woman’s eyes moved to her.
Kori didn’t say anything right away. She knew silence could be more disarming than words in situations like this. For that reason, she let the quiet sit between them a moment.
Then she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. She found a photo of Mackenzie and turned the screen toward the woman.
“This is my sister,” she said. “Her name is Mackenzie. She’s been missing for a week. I think you might know her.”
The woman looked at the screen, and something flickered in her eyes. But she still said nothing.
Kori kept her voice steady as she continued. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you?”
The woman looked at her. Then at the photo. Then back at Mackenzie.
She didn’t speak. But her eyes said everything her voice wouldn’t.
She recognized Mackenzie. Kori was certain of it.
Kori leaned forward. “Is she alive?”
The woman’s hands tightened on the blanket.
“Please.” Kori reminded herself to remain patient, knowing better than to do anything to trigger the woman into more silence. “Mackenzie is the only family I have left. Whatever you’re afraid of—whatever someone told you would happen if you talked—I need you to know there are people who will keep you safe. But I need to know if my sister is alive.”
The woman looked at her.
More silence passed.
The monitor beeped.
Then the woman whispered, “Do you promise to keep me safe?”
