once in a while. Josh might have gone home with a friend and lost track of time, or he might have been intentionally punishing his mother for forgetting him. There were any number of explanations more probable than kidnapping.
Then why did he have this knot in his gut?
He dug another quarter out of his pants pocket. He dialed the Strausses' number from memory and murmured a prayer of thanks when his daughter answered on the third ring with an exuberant “Hi! This is Jessie!”
“Hi, sweetheart, it's Daddy,” he said softly, ducking his head to elude Megan's curiosity.
“Are you coming to get me? I want you to read me some more of that book when it's bedtime.”
“I'm sorry, I can't, sweetie,” he murmured. “I've got to be a cop for a while longer tonight. You'll have to stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”
There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. Mitch could clearly picture his little daughter making her mad face, an expression she had inherited from her mother and perfected by imitating her grandmother. An eloquent look, it could provoke feelings of guilt in the blink of a big brown eye. “I don't like it when you're a cop,” she said.
He wondered if she had any clue how badly it hurt him when she said that. The words were a knife slipped into an old wound that wouldn't heal. “I know you don't, Jess, but I have to go try to find somebody who's lost. Wouldn't you want me to come find you if you were lost?”
“Yeah,” she admitted grudgingly. “But you're
my
daddy.”
“I'll be home tomorrow night, honey, and we'll read extra pages. I promise.”
“You better, 'cause Grandma said she could read with me about Babar, too.”
Mitch clenched his jaw. “I promise. Give me a kiss good night, then let me talk to Grandpa.”
Jessie made a loud smacking sound over the phone, which Mitch repeated, turning his back to Megan so she couldn't see the color that warmed his cheeks. Then Jessie turned the phone over to her grandfather and Mitch went through the ritual explanation that wasn't an explanation—police business, hung up on a case, nothing major but it might drag on. If he told his in-laws he had to see about a possible kidnapping, Joy Strauss would burn up the phone lines whipping the town into a frenzy.
Jurgen didn't press for details. A born-and-bred Minnesotan, he considered it rude to ask for more information than the caller was willing to give. Aside from that, the routine wasn't unfamiliar to him. Mitch's job dictated a late night from time to time. The standing arrangement was for Jessie to remain with her grandparents, who looked after her every day after school. The routine was convenient and provided stability for Jessie. Mitch might not have been enamored of his mother-in-law, but he trusted her to take good care of her only grandchild.
He hated to miss seeing Jessie, to miss tucking her in and reading to her until her eyes drifted shut. His daughter was the absolute center of his universe. For a second he tried to imagine what it would feel like if he couldn't find her, then he thought of Josh and Hannah.
“He'll turn up in no time,” he murmured to himself as he hung up the receiver. The knot in his gut tightened.
Megan's temper dropped from a boil to a simmer. For a second there Mitch Holt had seemed vulnerable, not tough, not intimidating. For a second he was a single father who sent his little girl kisses over the phone. The word
dangerous
floated through her head again and took on new connotations.
Kicking the thought aside, she gave him a no-nonsense look. “I hope you're right, Chief,” she said. “For everyone's sake.”
CHAPTER 5
----
D AY 1
9:30 P.M. 19°
T he last of the senior league hockey players were limping and shuffling their way out of the Gordie Knutson Memorial Arena when Mitch pulled his Explorer into the drive. Fifty or older, the senior leaguers still displayed an amazing amount of grace on the ice, as if they somehow shed
Then why did he have this knot in his gut?
He dug another quarter out of his pants pocket. He dialed the Strausses' number from memory and murmured a prayer of thanks when his daughter answered on the third ring with an exuberant “Hi! This is Jessie!”
“Hi, sweetheart, it's Daddy,” he said softly, ducking his head to elude Megan's curiosity.
“Are you coming to get me? I want you to read me some more of that book when it's bedtime.”
“I'm sorry, I can't, sweetie,” he murmured. “I've got to be a cop for a while longer tonight. You'll have to stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”
There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. Mitch could clearly picture his little daughter making her mad face, an expression she had inherited from her mother and perfected by imitating her grandmother. An eloquent look, it could provoke feelings of guilt in the blink of a big brown eye. “I don't like it when you're a cop,” she said.
He wondered if she had any clue how badly it hurt him when she said that. The words were a knife slipped into an old wound that wouldn't heal. “I know you don't, Jess, but I have to go try to find somebody who's lost. Wouldn't you want me to come find you if you were lost?”
“Yeah,” she admitted grudgingly. “But you're
my
daddy.”
“I'll be home tomorrow night, honey, and we'll read extra pages. I promise.”
“You better, 'cause Grandma said she could read with me about Babar, too.”
Mitch clenched his jaw. “I promise. Give me a kiss good night, then let me talk to Grandpa.”
Jessie made a loud smacking sound over the phone, which Mitch repeated, turning his back to Megan so she couldn't see the color that warmed his cheeks. Then Jessie turned the phone over to her grandfather and Mitch went through the ritual explanation that wasn't an explanation—police business, hung up on a case, nothing major but it might drag on. If he told his in-laws he had to see about a possible kidnapping, Joy Strauss would burn up the phone lines whipping the town into a frenzy.
Jurgen didn't press for details. A born-and-bred Minnesotan, he considered it rude to ask for more information than the caller was willing to give. Aside from that, the routine wasn't unfamiliar to him. Mitch's job dictated a late night from time to time. The standing arrangement was for Jessie to remain with her grandparents, who looked after her every day after school. The routine was convenient and provided stability for Jessie. Mitch might not have been enamored of his mother-in-law, but he trusted her to take good care of her only grandchild.
He hated to miss seeing Jessie, to miss tucking her in and reading to her until her eyes drifted shut. His daughter was the absolute center of his universe. For a second he tried to imagine what it would feel like if he couldn't find her, then he thought of Josh and Hannah.
“He'll turn up in no time,” he murmured to himself as he hung up the receiver. The knot in his gut tightened.
Megan's temper dropped from a boil to a simmer. For a second there Mitch Holt had seemed vulnerable, not tough, not intimidating. For a second he was a single father who sent his little girl kisses over the phone. The word
dangerous
floated through her head again and took on new connotations.
Kicking the thought aside, she gave him a no-nonsense look. “I hope you're right, Chief,” she said. “For everyone's sake.”
CHAPTER 5
----
D AY 1
9:30 P.M. 19°
T he last of the senior league hockey players were limping and shuffling their way out of the Gordie Knutson Memorial Arena when Mitch pulled his Explorer into the drive. Fifty or older, the senior leaguers still displayed an amazing amount of grace on the ice, as if they somehow shed
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