“Are you getting tired of having them camped out out there?” she asked.
Wayne pushed up his glasses and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s a balance. We have to figure out a way to keep them interested, keep the case alive, without having them lose focus—or go away completely.”
Valerie rubbed her temples. “We learned our lesson when we let one in to use the bathroom. Next thing you know, she was boasting about having some kind of ‘exclusive.’”
“The media can be on your side,” Nic said, “but you have to be careful. Because finding Katie isn’t their priority.”
“Then what is their priority?” Wayne asked. “What could be more important than a missing girl?”
“Ratings,” Valerie said flatly.
Nic nodded, thinking of Cassidy’s eagerness. “Right. So if they can turn your life upside down and shake out some scandal, they’ll do it. Anything for a new angle. Thanks to the Internet and CNN, we live in a twenty-four-hour news cycle. The only problem is that there aren’t twenty-four hours’ worth of news. So if there isn’t anything new, they have to make something up.” She remembered why she was here. “Anyway, who is it you want me to talk to?”
“We didn’t want you to be skeptical,” Wayne said in a rush. “But once you meet her and hear what she has to say, then . . .”
Nic’s heart started to sink. With difficulty she kept her face neutral.
“It’s Lorena Macy. I understand she’s quite well-known to law enforcement personnel,” Valerie said. “She says she’s even helped your agency before.”
Nic kept quiet. She had never heard of Lorena Macy. But she already knew what was coming.
Wayne’s voice was low. “She came to us and said she’s been having dreams since the day Kate disappeared. Even before it was on the news. Then when Lorena did see it on TV, she knew her dreams were really about Katie. She says she can get in touch with Katie by holding something of hers. But we wanted you to be here. In case she says something you can act on right away.”
“Where is she?” Nic tried hard to keep the anger out of her voice.
“In the kitchen,” Wayne said.
Nic took a deep breath. “Look, Mr. and Mrs. Converse. Let me be blunt. These kinds of people are already crawling out of the woodwork. We’re getting dozens of tips every day based on people’s dreams and visions. And 99 percent of them want attention or they want money. And then there are a few who just really, really want to help, even though they have no clue what happened.”
Wayne raised his eyebrows. “Lorena’s not asking for money. She said she would refuse it even if we pushed it into her hands.”
Nic wanted to shake him. “Of course she did. Just by taking her seriously, you’re putting money in her pocket. Do you think she won’t leave here and go right out front and talk to all those people? Once they hear about how you asked her to help on the Katie Converse case, more people will want their palms read or their cards done or whatever it is she does. They’ll think that if the FBI consulted with her, then she must be good. I bet she was the one who asked if I could be here, right?”
She could tell by their uneasy exchange of glances that she was. “She’ll drum up business, with Katie as her calling card.”
Nic hated to do this to the Converses when they were so desperate, but she tried to make it quick and clean, like pulling off a bandage. “Have you said anything to her that’s not generally known? Because let me warn you—don’t tell her one thing she doesn’t already know.”
“But what if she does know?” Wayne asked. “What if she knows already? That’s why she’s here. To tell us what she knows. Not the other way around.”
So much for quick and clean. “All right. Let’s go hear what she has to say.”
Lorena was a plump woman, sixtyish, with dyed red hair. She looked like she had fallen in a paint box. There was a bright circle of red on each cheek, turquoise shadow on eyes rimmed with black liner, and so much mascara that she looked half asleep.
And then Nic figured it out. The makeup wasn’t so much for the Converses. It was for the TV cameras outside.
After the four of them sat down around the kitchen table, Nic said, “Can you spell your name for me?” She hadn’t flashed her badge, hadn’t given her own name. Her goal was to give this phony as little as possible.
Lorena did. There was something high-pitched and artificial about her voice that set Nicole’s teeth on edge.
“And you contacted the Converses because . . .”