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  She didn’t look angry. She looked...sad.

  That bothered Malone more than he wanted it to.

  A simple mission. In. Out. Back to his vacation. Only it wasn’t going to turn out that way. He set his mug down, took Quinn’s.

  “You were right,” he said, placing it next to his.

  “About what?”

  “Everything is going to be okay.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Sure you did. You said it to Jubilee.”

  She frowned, her smooth skin and large gray eyes making her look years younger than she was. She could have passed for a teenager, but he knew she’d been widowed for several years. He’d have liked to know more.

  Like why a woman as smart as she seemed to be would believe the lies her sister had told her.

  “I guess I did.” She offered a half smile and sighed. “I probably knew Tabitha wasn’t telling me the entire truth, but I never would have imagined that she had a child who wasn’t hers.”

  “We could all be mistaken. That’s a possibility.”

  “No. It’s not. I got a good look at the birth certificate. It was an original,” she responded.

  “Did you see the baby’s name?”

  “Kendal Grace Anderson.” Flyaway strands of hair stuck to her forehead and cheek. She brushed them away, moved toward the back door. “Mother’s name was Megan. Father’s name Daniel Boone Anderson.”

  It all lined up.

  Every detail.

  “I need to call my boss,” he muttered. Once Boone got word about the birth certificate, he was going to be chomping at the bit, trying to get home faster than humanly possible. Returning home and being told he wasn’t going to be able to see his child wouldn’t sit well. Maybe Chance could work a little magic and make sure that didn’t happen.

  “You go ahead. I...need some air.” Quinn walked to a small alcove at the back of the kitchen. A door led from there out to a porch.

  Malone had already scouted the property, looking for areas that might be security risks. Quinn had been run off the road and chased into the woods. There was no guarantee the perpetrator wouldn’t return, but there were law enforcement officers all over the property and along the road where Quinn’s Jeep had been abandoned. She’d be fine outside on her own, but he followed anyway, stepping into the cool night air.

  “You don’t have to babysit me,” Quinn murmured as she settled onto a bench swing that hung from porch eaves.

  “Who said I was?” He settled down beside her, the chains creaking.

  “You were going to call your boss.”

  “It can wait.”

  “Until?”

  “I make sure you’re okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She was tiny. Probably a foot shorter than Malone, but her personality seemed bigger—her voice, her gestures, those eyes that seemed to take up most of her face.

  “You were lied to. You were put in danger. You trusted someone, and you were betrayed.” They were all good reasons for not being okay, but Quinn shrugged.

  “I’ve been through worse.”

  “I’m sorry for that.”

  She turned her head, looked him straight in the eyes, her gaze dropping to the scar on his cheek, the one on his hands. “I think you’ve been through way worse, so I don’t think you should be sorry for me.”

  “Trouble is relative.” He stood and paced to the porch railing, because he didn’t want her to ask about the scars. It wasn’t something he discussed—the torture, the sorrow of losing brothers in arms, the helplessness of watching it happen. “Is there someone you want me to call?”

  “About?”

  “You. Your brother is busy with the police. I thought you might want some moral support.”

  “If my husband were alive,” she said quietly, “I’d want him here. He’s not, and there’s no one else.”

  “I’ll say I’m sorry again. For your loss, this time.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I know it doesn’t change anything.”

  “It doesn’t, but after a while, the agony fades to a dull ache.”

  He’d been there. Done that. He knew how it felt to lose someone and to move on from it. The ache never left. It simply became tolerable.

  “Quinn—” he began, not really sure what he was going to say, not actually sure he should say anything.

  They were strangers, and nothing he could say to her would make any difference.

  “Are you going to let Daniel know about the birth certificate?” She cut him off.

  “Daniel?” he asked, confused for a split second before the name registered. “Boone. That’s what he goes by. I’ll send him a text. Our boss will, too.”

  “Boss?”

  “Chance Miller. He owns HEART.”

  “I’d like to say I’ve heard of it.”

  “But you haven’t? Neither have most people. We’re a privately owned hostage rescue team. We also provide security, do cyber forensics. Lots of things.”

  “Including tracking down a coworker’s missing child?”

  “That, too.” He stood, the swing creaking as it moved. “Hopefully, this will all pan out. I’d hate for Boone to get his hopes up and then have them dashed.”

  “I have a feeling it will. I just hope that it pans out for Jubilee, too. She deserves to have a happy ending, because I don’t think her beginning has been easy.”

  “I saw the bruise on her cheek.”

  “There are a few on her arms, too. And, she doesn’t talk. Boone will have his work cut out for him.”

  “He’s up for it. He’s been waiting for this for five years, preparing for it.”

  “Maybe you can give me a call after they meet, let me know how it goes.”

  “You could stick around. Find out for yourself.”

  “I need to get back to Echo Lake. I’ve got a job, a whole classroom full of kindergartners who won’t know what to do if I’m not there.”

  “You like the little kids, huh?”

  “I do, but it’s also the only grade that I could be guaranteed to be taller than all my pupils.”

  That surprised a laugh out of him, and she smiled. “Yeah, it was a joke, but I have met third graders who are almost as tall as me.”

  The back door opened, and August stepped outside.

  “I’ve been looking for you, Quinn. Is everything okay out here?” he asked.

  “Just waiting to get permission to go home,” she responded.

  “You have it. The authorities have your contact information, and Agent Spellings said you’re free to go when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready.” She stood. “I’ve just got to get my Jeep...”

  “I drove it here,” August said. “But I think you should stay until the sun comes up.”

  “It’s almost up now,” she responded. “And the sooner I get on the road, the sooner I can get home. I’ve got a classroom full of rowdy five-year-olds to face on Monday morning.”

  “A few hours isn’t going to make a difference,” August responded. “I have a few things to tie up here before I can go, and I’d prefer you to wait until we can leave together.”

  She frowned. “Why would we leave together?”

  “Because, I want to make sure you stay safe.”

  “Safe from what? The guys who ran me off the road wanted to get Jubilee. She’s in protective custody until her father returns. They’ve got no further use for me.”

  “No?” Malone interrupted, because he agreed with August. Quinn shouldn’t be going anywhere alone. Not until they knew exactly what was going on. “Has it occurred to you that they wanted Jubilee because they thought having her would help them get to your sister?”

  “I can’t think of any other reason why they would want her, so yes. It’s occurred to me.”

  “Now that she’s in protective custody, they’ll want another pawn that they can use. That makes you a likely target,�
� he pointed out, and she scowled.

  “They don’t even know who I am, and there’s no way they’re hanging around anywhere close by to watch for my Jeep. They’re long gone, and if I leave now, I will be, too. If they come back after the police and FBI are gone, they’ll be too late to follow me. I’ll be home safe and sound in Echo Lake and all of this will be over.”

  Malone hoped she was right, but he didn’t think she could count on it. Desperate people did desperate things. That included kidnapping people they thought could be beneficial to their cause.

  “If you’re right, I’ll apologize later. For now, how about we just agree that you’ll stay until I can leave with you?” August suggested.

  “I don’t need—”

  “I do,” August cut her off. “You’re my kid sister. I couldn’t live with myself if I let something happen to you.”

  “Fine. I won’t leave until you can,” she said.

  “Glad to know I can still win my battles with you. I put your purse in the guest room. Here’s your phone. Looks like you’ve got a couple of messages. You recognize the number?”

  She took it, looked at the screen. “I think this is the one Tabitha gave me. I was in a hurry and didn’t add it to my contacts list.”

  “Hopefully, the messages explain the mess she’s gotten you into,” August muttered.

  “You’re assuming she knows that she got me into a mess.”

  “Trust me, kid. She knows.”

  “I’m not a kid,” Quinn said absently as she pressed a button and held the phone to her ear. “Nothing on the first one. Let’s see if she left a message the second time.” Her eyes widened, and she motioned for August to move closer.

  Malone didn’t wait for an invitation. He bent down, his head so close to Quinn’s that her hair brushed his cheek. He could hear what sounded like a masculine voice, the words chilling.

  “You want to see your sister again? You bring that kid back home.” Seconds later, a woman screamed, the sound filled with so much terror, Malone wanted to jump through the phone to save her.

  August must have felt the same.

  He snatched the phone from Quinn’s hand and listened to the message again, wincing when the woman screamed.

  “If that’s Tabitha...”

  “I know it’s her phone number,” Quinn said, staring at the phone as if it were going to jump out of his hand and attack her. “They must have found her.”

  “We need to hand this over to the FBI,” Malone said, taking the phone from August’s hand.

  “What if—?” Quinn began.

  “Let’s save the questions for later.” Malone grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. He didn’t want to waste time. The call had come in half an hour ago. If the FBI could get a ping off the cell phone, they might be able to track the caller. “The longer we wait, the more chance the perpetrator has to leave the area he made the call from.”

  “The longer we wait, the more unlikely it’s going to be that we’ll find Tabitha,” Quinn corrected.

  If Tabitha was with the caller.

  It was her phone, but that didn’t mean she was near it.

  It didn’t mean she’d been the one screaming.

  It didn’t mean she was even alive.

  Malone wasn’t going to share any of those thoughts with Quinn.

  “Right,” he said instead as he pulled her into the house.

  FOUR

  The scream seemed to echo through Quinn’s head as Malone hurried her into the living room. Several people stood there. Special Agent Spellings, two uniformed officers and a man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt who, Quinn was pretty sure, was from CPS.

  He smiled, gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. No one else seemed pleased that she, Malone and August had barged into the meeting.

  “I guess you didn’t hear that you have permission to return home,” Agent Spellings said impatiently, her gaze on Malone. “You all have permission to go wherever you need to be. We have things secure here.”

  “I guess you didn’t hear that this is my home, and the sheriff asked me to stick around until they finish searching the woods. I’m not planning to wait outside to make you people happy,” August responded, a hint of anger in his voice.

  “My apologies for taking over the way we have, but this is a missing child’s case—a kidnapped child. Things need to be handled a certain way.”

  “There’s been a threat made against Quinn’s sister. I think that’s important enough to interrupt your meeting,” Malone said.

  “What kind of threat?” Agent Spellings frowned, every hair still in place, her suit still wrinkle-free. Even after the hours she’d spent traveling and conducting interviews, she looked perfect.

  She didn’t look convinced, though.

  She hadn’t been convinced earlier, either.

  She believed Tabitha was guilty of a crime or crimes, and Quinn didn’t believe that a recorded scream was going to change her mind.

  “I can play it for you,” Quinn offered.

  Agent Spellings nodded, and Quinn played the message—the male voice, the threat, the scream.

  She shivered, but Agent Spellings looked unconcerned.

  “The scream sounds exactly like a sound effect app one of my nephews likes to use to scare me.”

  “Are you saying she staged a kidnapping?” Quinn demanded.

  “I’m saying that I’d like to have the message analyzed. Do you mind if I take your phone?” She held out her hand, and Quinn handed it over.

  “Tabitha would never fake something like this.”

  “And she wouldn’t take a child that didn’t belong to her? Bring that child to her sister? Convince her sister to help her transport the child across state lines?”

  Ouch. That hurt, but Quinn wasn’t going to give up. Tabitha needed help. She was certain of it.

  “How long will it take you to decide if the scream is real?” she asked.

  “I’m certain that it’s a real scream. We’re going to be trying to determine whether it was dubbed in. A recording of a recording, so to speak.” She smiled.

  Obviously, she wasn’t taking the threat seriously.

  No way was Quinn going to wait around while the message was analyzed. She was getting her stuff, getting in her Jeep and heading back to Echo Lake. With or without her brother. There had to be a way to trace her sister’s path from there. Tabitha had arrived in a rental car. A sporty black car that she’d parked right in front of the building that housed Quinn’s apartment. She’d handed Quinn a booster seat, a pink backpack and the envelope before she’d left. It had been too dark for Quinn to read the license plate number, but whatever rental company Tabitha used would want the vehicle back eventually. If Quinn could find the company, she might be able to find her sister.

  “You okay?” Malone asked, touching her elbow.

  “I will be once I know my sister is okay.”

  “You can trust us to do that,” Agent Spellings assured her.

  But trust was a difficult thing for Quinn; trusting strangers was nearly impossible. She’d learned to take care of herself years ago. That had served her well when Cory became ill. She’d been able to care for him and for herself. She’d known how to make do, how to solve problems. How to fix things.

  Except for Cory’s health.

  That she hadn’t been able to fix no matter how hard she’d tried.

  “Right. Trust,” she murmured. “I’ll do that. Is there any way I can see Jubilee? I’d like to say goodbye before I leave.”

  “We agreed that we’re leaving together,” August reminded her.

  She ignored him.

  Waiting wasn’t going to help Tabitha.

  “I’m sorry,” the guy she’d pegged for CPS said. “She’s been through a lot, and we think it would be better if—”

  “It would probably be better for that poor girl to have a chance to say goodbye,” Agent Spellings cut in, offering support that Quinn hadn’t expected. “She’s had too man
y adults disappear from her life. I think we can all agree that’s not healthy for a child.”

  “Well—” the guy frowned “—it isn’t, but nothing that has happened to her is healthy.”

  “I’m not going to traumatize her more,” Quinn assured him. “I just want to say goodbye.”

  “I guess it won’t hurt. Come on.” He led her down the hall and into one of August’s guest rooms. It was small, just enough space in it to house a dresser, a twin bed and a night stand.

  Two women stood near a window. One held a clipboard. The other had a phone. Both looked tired and a little frazzled.

  “John,” the taller of the two said. “Didn’t we agree that Jubilee shouldn’t be disturbed?”

  “This is her aunt,” he explained.

  “Not legally,” the woman responded. “I’m sorry, Ms....?”

  “Robertson.”

  “Ms. Robertson, I’m Anna Smith, Jubilee’s caseworker. She is terrified. She’s decided that the closet is the safest place, and we want her to feel safe, don’t we?” She sounded as if she were speaking to a child. It rubbed Quinn the wrong way, but she’d play nice if it meant seeing Jubilee.

  “Of course. I plan to return to Maine, though, and I thought—”

  A soft thump interrupted her words.

  Seconds later, the closet door creaked open, and Jubilee peeked out, her eyes red, her cheeks wet.

  She’d been crying.

  Poor kid.

  “Hey, kiddo.” Quinn crouched and held out her arms. “Got a hug for me?”

  “She doesn’t like to be touched,” Anna informed her, but Jubilee had already moved forward and was throwing herself into Quinn’s arms.

  “It’s okay,” Quinn murmured, smoothing silky curls from hot sticky cheeks. “You’re going to be okay.”

  Tears rolled down Jubilee’s cheeks, silent sobs wracking her body.

  “What’s wrong, kiddo? Are you scared or sad?”

  “She doesn’t speak.” Anna had moved in, hovering nearby as if she were afraid Quinn was going to grab the child and run.

  “Can you find Mommy?” Jubilee asked, the words clear and crisp. They were the first words she’d spoken, and Quinn couldn’t quite grasp that they’d actually come out of her mouth.