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  "Sarah sent Mary to tell me that Denise, my daughter, was going to be shot," Esmerelda said. "I want to call and warn her but I don't know where she lives."

  While everyone talked, Caleb couldn't help but think about where he was. His daughter was missing and he was in a room with self-professed psychics.

  He turned to Dolan. "Why don't you help? You've done this sort of thing before. There has to be a reason she wrote your name down so prominently. Maybe it was a cry for help. Can't you use some psychic power to conjure up an image of where Sarah might be?"

  Dolan was shaking his head. "It's not that simple. Besides, I'm retired. I know it's not what you want to hear, but I stopped helping the police about a year ago."

  "Why would you do that? It seems to me if you've got a God given talent, you should use it."

  Dolan stood. "If you must know, I'm sick of the notoriety. I'm old and I not only can't handle the people anymore, I don't want to. The police will just have to find all their missing persons with real investigative work."

  "That's ridiculous. Listen to yourself. My daughter is missing and you're saying you won't help. Especially after it started here."

  "What started here?" Dolan asked.

  The office door swung open, hitting the guard who still stood in front of it. He moved out of the way as a man walked in followed by two uniformed police officers.

  The mantra came back to Caleb. No police.

  Dolan spoke first. "Alex, what's this?"

  "Your security guard called them. After the break in yesterday by his daughter, then the prowler at Esmerelda's trailer last night, security thought it better to have the police deal with him."

  The guy was pointing at Caleb.

  "Heh, look," Caleb said, he raised his hands in supplication. "I'm dealing with this amicably now. The story isn't so mixed up after all."

  "Doesn't matter. You still assaulted the security guards."

  "They grabbed me," Caleb said, his voice showing his exasperation.

  One of the cops stepped in and nodded at Dolan. He appeared to be well known.

  "Come with us," he said to Caleb.

  Caleb wanted to run. If whoever had Sarah saw him with the police, it would be all over.

  "No," was all he could think of.

  Everyone looked surprised. The air seemed to thicken.

  "There's the easy way or the hard way," the cop said.

  "I pick the hard way," Caleb said for Sarah.

  Chapter 26

  Amelia lifted the phone. This was fruitless. It had been thirty minutes and she'd gotten nowhere. One more hospital to call. Then she'd call the police. She wasn't waiting any longer.

  The doorbell rang. She placed the phone in its cradle and stood. Could this be news about Sarah?

  She walked to the door like a zombie, the remnants of her headache an echo in her skull. When she got to the door she straightened her shirt, pulled her shoulders back and opened it. She was as ready as she would ever be.

  "Can I help you?" she asked. A dark blue sedan was parked in her driveway. She could spot an undercover police car anywhere after living next door to a cop before moving here.

  "My name is Sam Johnson. I'm the lead investigator in last night's hit and run fatality. I'm sorry to intrude, but would you be able to furnish us with a current picture of your daughter."

  Amelia stepped back and frowned. Fatality? What was he talking about?

  "I'm not sure I understand what you're saying about. Is Sarah hurt?"

  The officer made a strange facial gesture. It looked like he was surprised. He stepped back and looked at the number on the house. "Are you Amelia Roberts?"

  Amelia nodded.

  "I had two officers come by here earlier to explain what happened on Birk Street last night and to talk to your daughter. They met your husband but forgot to ask for a picture. It seems the witnesses' descriptions are scattered. If you could just furnish me with a..."

  Amelia wavered, feeling light on her feet. She grabbed the door handle for support.

  "Is everything okay, ma'am?" the cop asked.

  "Is Sarah dead?"

  The officer tilted his head to the side. "I wouldn't know that."

  "You said fatality."

  "A man was run down by a vehicle on Birk Street. Witnesses said the driver was your daughter. We went over this with your husband. He didn't tell you?"

  "He said it was Jehovah Witnesses at the door."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. Why would he lie, Mrs. Roberts?"

  "He didn't say anything about police." Amelia raised a hand to her forehead. "I need to sit down. Come in," she said as she made her way to the couch.

  "Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to get you some water?"

  "No. Just tell me what your men told my husband."

  She sat back and listened while the detective walked her through what he knew about last night.

  "And Caleb knows about this?"

  "Yes. They even showed him your daughter's notebook. Can you tell me anything about this notebook? Was Sarah in and out at odd hours? Did she ever talk to you about it?"

  Amelia shook her head. "No. She was quite secretive." She leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees and started to massage her temples. "I just can't believe this. There's no way Sarah's involved in any sort of criminal activity."

  "First we need to locate her and then we'll be able to ascertain what's really going on. You have to understand, Mrs. Roberts, from our point of view, that notebook is pretty detailed and I don't want to jump to conclusions, but," he left it hanging.

  Amelia looked at him. "Don't then. Sarah is not involved in any crimes."

  "We can't confirm that until we talk to your daughter. Although, it could be that she was helping people. We're just not sure. On two separate occasions we've got photographs from reporters with what we believe was the person who saved a life. That individual disappeared each time. And then that news anchor woman was saved by a girl about your daughter's age. She was wearing a bandanna. There's a possibility it was Sarah."

  Amelia's thoughts were starting to scatter. "I thought my husband told me he was going to the police station. He said a missing person's report would be easier to file in person." She stood up, not knowing what to do next, but wanting to do something.

  The cop was looking at her. "A picture would really help."

  "Right."

  Amelia went to her photo albums and withdrew a picture from a few years back. Since Sarah had started losing her hair she refused to have any pictures taken. Amelia snapped one of Sarah while they were on a four day mini vacation in Florida. Sarah had only started pulling her forearm hair and eyebrows by that time.

  She walked back to the living room and gave the picture to the cop. Tears were starting to crawl down her cheeks. She wiped at them and sat on the couch.

  The detective studied the picture for a moment and then slipped it in his jacket pocket. "I'd like to monitor your phones in case your daughter calls in. Would you mind if I had a couple of technicians come in to set up a tap?"

  Amelia nodded. "Please do."

  "If she is in trouble and gets a chance to call, at least my guys may be able to trace the call."

  He stood and pulled out a cell phone. Amelia heard him talking to someone about getting everything set up. She ambled toward the kitchen for a glass of water. She was suddenly very thirsty. At least her headache was gone. It had been replaced by a different ache.

  Where was Sarah? What happened to her? Could she really have been driving a car that killed a man?

  Amelia's stomach did a flip. She wondered if she was going to be sick. Why did Caleb lie?

  There was a soft knock on the kitchen door. She told him to come in.

  "They should be here within a half hour. I'll have a little paperwork for you to sign."

  The phone rang.

  Amelia grabbed at it. She answered before she heard any of the muffled warnings coming from the cop.

  "He
llo, hello, Sarah?"

  "No, I'm sorry. My name is Dolan Ryan. I'm with the Psychic Fair."

  Amelia almost hung up. She even saw herself slamming the phone down. She'd had enough of these people from the fair. "This isn't a good time."

  "I understand. I'm aware of Sarah's troubles."

  "You are? How's that?" She looked up at the cop standing a few feet away.

  "Your husband explained everything and I'm sorry to hear how it's turned out. I thought the least I could do was give you a call to tell you that..."

  "Is my husband there with you?"

  "That's why I'm calling. Your husband isn't here. He was taken away by the police."

  Chapter 27

  He tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. This wasn't going to work. It's not supposed to be this way. Every cop would be looking for this police car soon. His brother was dead. The bitch in the backseat did it. They were down to one or two more jobs and that would've been it. The boss had promised. But the bitch in the backseat went and fucked it all up.

  He would have to make her pay. Seriously pay. But she was too ugly to do anything fun with. He had committed to himself he'd have a little fun with the next girl they take, but he couldn't with this one. He wouldn't be able to get past all the missing hair. Whenever he looked at her body all he could think about was a nuclear bomb survivor.

  "What happened to you anyway?"

  She didn't answer him. He looked in the mirror at her.

  "I asked you a question. What happened to your hair?"

  She continued to look out the window.

  "Fuck you then."

  "It's a disease. It's contagious," Sarah said.

  He shook his head. Yeah right.

  Another gas station went by. That was two within the last ten minutes. No cop cars in sight. He looked in his rear-view mirror. No one following him.

  He wondered if the cop had radioed in his position when he did the traffic stop. Could a broken taillight be important enough to call in the stop?

  He saw buildings coming up ahead. A small town soon became visible. The sign said population 11,000. It also said, 'where daisies grow'. He chuckled; the bitch sitting behind him would be pushing some up soon.

  Doubt played with him. He realized that he probably wouldn't be able to pull this thing off. His brother was the one who always handled the details. He didn't know what to do next. Where would he go? Where did he think any kind of ransom money was going to come from?

  A cop was dead and here he was driving through the town where the officer probably patrolled. People might recognize the car and wave, expecting the dead cop to be driving.

  He swore out loud, smashed his hand against the steering wheel and hunkered lower in the seat.

  He was making too many mistakes. The boss hated mistakes. He should have loaded the cop's body in the trunk. It might delay things a little. Instead of looking for a cop killer, they'd need to find the cop first. Too late now.

  He needed to think things through better.

  Number one was ditch the cop car. He thought about killing the bitch, but decided to keep her alive for now. He may need her to get out of a sticky situation. Maybe he could use her against the boss. Blackmail the boss to pay him quiet money or the girl goes to the cops with all the information needed to put the boss away for a long time.

  There, a plan was forming. Maybe he could clean this mess up after all.

  He had to get out of this small town first. Everyone probably knew everyone else and they wouldn't recognize him behind the wheel of a cop car. More witnesses to tell where they saw the car later on.

  He ducked down just enough so he could still see over the dash.

  Moments later he came to the edge of town and passed the last house. He looked in the mirror and spotted the girl in the backseat scrunched up, her knees drawn to her chest.

  "This is your fault. Things would have been easier if you had minded your own business. Who sent you anyway? How did you know about our plans two different times?"

  She didn't respond.

  "Did you hear me? When this is over, you die. You do know that?"

  He rounded a corner and saw what looked like an old motel. From what he could see, the place looked abandoned. He pulled off the two lane highway and stopped in front of the rundown building. A sign said the area was slated for demolition. That would explain some of the construction equipment and the small white trailer on the side.

  He pulled away from the front and drove around back, parking the police cruiser away from view of the highway. He had been in police cars before so he knew there was no need to worry about the bitch in the backseat. She could only get out when he opened the rear door from the outside.

  The back of the motel looked like it had some work done to it recently. That's strange, he thought. Why renovate when they're taking it down.

  He stepped out of the cruiser and scanned the gravel and mud driveway. No recent tracks. At least none since the last rainfall.

  The last place to look was the construction trailer. Having arrived in a cop car, he strode toward the trailer with authority. If someone saw him they'd have to assume he was under cover.

  The door to the trailer was locked. He looked in the window to the right of the door. No one was in sight.

  Perfect. He could use one of the abandoned rooms to keep the girl for a day or two. Since it was a Friday night he didn't figure anyone would come back to work here until at least Monday. But he'd be gone by then. Long gone.

  He jogged back to the cruiser and then around it. Five meters from the cop car was the edge of a steep hill. It ended where a small lake started.

  Things were looking up.

  He turned, opened the rear door and pulled the girl out. She sat on the grass and stared off into space, her face blank. Her right hand was at the nape of her neck. He leaned over to see what she was doing. Her thumb and index finger were yanking on a small clump of hair. He stepped away from her.

  Sarah's fingers fluttered, hair dropping from them.

  He shook his head. Weird.

  He reached in and shifted the cruiser into neutral. Then he began to push, which turned out to be easier than he thought.

  The vehicle crested the top of the hill and started its descent. On the way down it bottomed out a few times, scraping against large stones and gouging small holes into the earth.

  It hit the bottom of the hill with a huge splash. Then it started a slow descent into the dark water.

  He turned back to the girl.

  She was gone.

  Chapter 28

  Amelia could hear the detective summoning her from the den.

  "Mrs. Roberts, I think you'd better listen to this."

  After talking to Dolan she needed a few minutes by herself before she told the cops that her husband was at their police station.

  The sun shone through the blinds covering the front window. Amelia stared at the floor where the light made curious straight lines and wondered if she was ready to hear whatever the cop wanted her to listen to. Could she handle it if something happened to Sarah? Why did she feel so weak and helpless and yet so vulnerable?

  "Mrs. Roberts?" The detective stood in the doorway.

  Amelia looked up. She acknowledged him with a nod and started down the hall after him.

  They entered Caleb's den where two plainclothes officers were setting up wires and what she thought were listening devices. Both men had been introduced to her earlier but she already forgot their names.

  "When we noticed messages on the machine we decided to listen to them in case one of them was your daughter. Anyone could've called when you were asleep and left information that could help."

  "Okay." Amelia took a step back and leaned against the wall.

  "How well do you know your husband?"

  "What do you mean?"

  The detective looked over at his technicians, made some kind of facial gesture and turned back to Amelia. Both men stood up and walked out the door,
closing it behind them.

  "What's going on here, Detective?"

  "Sam. I would prefer it if you called me Sam. We're going to be spending a little time together so it would be easier if you'd use my first name."

  "What did you hear on the answering machine?"

  "I don't want to alarm you. Maybe you should be sitting down for this."

  "I'm not a baby. Just tell me. I can handle it, or at least I'll try to."

  Perhaps he was right. If the worst news was about to come out of the machines tiny speaker, maybe she should be sitting down. She walked over to the couch, where she dropped to the cushions and put her face into her hands.

  She heard a button being pushed and the familiar click of a message about to start.

  Amelia could identify her husband's voice immediately. He wasn't speaking from the phone in the den because the machine had picked up at the same time as Caleb did, which recorded the conversation she was about to hear.

  "Hello," Caleb said, his voice rushed like he had run for the phone.

  A whispered response followed. "I have your daughter. I want five hundred thousand delivered to a location I will reveal in ten days."

  Amelia gasped. It was confirmation Sarah had been kidnapped. Her baby had been taken. And her husband knew about it. Why didn't he tell her? Why hide this from her?

  "Who are you?" Caleb shouted. "How do I know you've got her?"

  "You've got ten days. No police, or she dies."

  Amelia heard a click and the answering machine stopped. She let out a breath she had been holding and raised a hand to cover her open mouth. Questions riddled her mind. Where was Sarah now? Was she safe? What could be happening to her? Why would Caleb lie to her?

  "Mrs. Roberts? Do you need a moment?"

  Amelia shook her head back and forth. "What time was that call recorded?"

  "The machine time-stamped it 7:34am. Your husband took this call before my officers came to your door this morning. Maybe that was why he told you it was Jehovah Witness' at your door. The caller said 'no police.'"