Chapter 18
With Connie safely in charge of the Barnhorst watch, I rushed home, hooked my camera up to my computer, and uploaded the photos, examining them one by one as they flashed by in a sinister slide show across my monitor screen.
I selected a full-frontal shot of the child I was sure was Timmy, cropped out the background, blew it up to five-by-seven, and printed it out.
For Barnhorst, I printed both a full face shot and a profile. I toyed with the idea of printing them out on the same piece of paper, like a wanted poster. Even if the Barnhorst woman hadn’t stolen Timmy, which I seriously doubted at this point, anyone who’d overdress a child like that or drive around with her in such a flimsy car seat deserved to be on a wanted poster.
After the printer spit out the last copy of J
