9

Jeremy sat behind the wheel of the Jeep and composed himself. Had to be cool and calm and pretend like nothing was wrong.

That asshole Dirty Danny hadn't shown. Jeremy had finally broke down and asked for him. Nobody had seen nothing of him today.

Damn it!

Okay. Be cool.

He'd work things out. Who knew? Maybe Danny was already dead, killed in a real drug deal gone bad.

Wouldn't that be a kick?

He got out and took deep breaths all the way to the front door. By the time he let himself in he was the Jerry Bethlehem everyone knew and loved. Well, not everyone.

"I'm home, darlin."

No answer.

His foot kicked a piece of paper. He looked down and saw a torn-open envelope. He picked it up. Dawn's name on the front and…

His mouth went dry and his heart stuttered when he saw the return address: Creighton Institute. And Vecca's name.

What the—?

Dawn! Where was she? He limped up to the main floor calling her name, but still no answer.

Was she gone? What had been in that fuckin envelope?

He made it up to the second floor, going from room to room. All empty. He checked the bathroom last and found two sheets of paper on the floor. As he bent to snag them, he heard a car engine roar to life outside.

"No!"

He hurried downstairs as fast as his damn knee would allow and reached the front door just as Dawn and her Jeep reached the curb.

"Dawn! Wait!"

He went to run after her but his knee crumbled beneath him and he tumbled to the grass in a blaze of pain.

Dawn never looked back… just raced away.

"Shit!"

He pushed himself off the lawn, regained his feet, and hobbled back inside. He went straight for the key bowl. The Miata would be murder on his knee but he'd have to grit his teeth and put up with it. Couldn't let Dawn get too much of a head start. Had to chase her down and—

The keys! Where were his keys? Both sets were gone.

The bitch! She'd taken both sets to the Miata, leaving him just the cycle, but that was out of the question. He was stranded.

Fuck!

What was going on?

He had a pretty good idea how to answer that.

He found the sheets he'd dropped on his way outside. He sat on the stairs with his bad leg stuck straight out, and began to read.

With each sentence his fury grew… fury mingled with disbelief… and fear.

/ have initiated procedures to rescind his release and return him to this facility.

What was Vecca thinking? Had she lost her fucking mind? What about her precious clinical trial? She was throwing it away. Why? Because she suspected he'd offed Moonglow? Gerhard hadn't bothered her. Why Moonglow?

But far worse was telling Dawn he was her father. Vecca had no business doing that. And how the hell did she know? How had she found out?

That was the same question he'd asked about the detective—where had he got his info? Now he knew: Vecca. Vecca had been working with him, feeding him all along. It didn't make any sense, but who could figure Vecca? She always seemed to have a hidden agenda.

Thing was, he didn't care why. He knew what Vecca had done—it was all here in black and white—and that was enough.

He'd have to pay her a little visit. But not until he'd made things right with Dawn. He didn't know how he was going to do that—yeah, swear everything in the letter's a lie, but how to prove that? He had a gut sense in this case he'd be guilty until proven innocent.

You'd think she could have given him the benefit of the doubt, given him a chance to explain. But no, she'd upped and run without even—

His mind flashed back to the spare bedroom when he'd peeked in while searching for her. The closet door had been open with his backpack sitting on the floor.

"Shit!"

A painful rush back upstairs to check again. There it was, everything unzipped.

She'd found the money. Never mind how, it had iced the case against him.

Again, he could explain, he could talk his way out of it—out of just about anything with that girl—if only he could find her. That had to be priority number one. But he had no fucking car!

Wait. The spare key he'd stuck in the wheel well after that time he'd locked himself out. He'd forgotten about that.

Down the steps again and outside. He reached up into the well and yanked out the little magnetized box. Opened it, pulled out the key, and he was on his way.

He had a pretty good idea where Dawn would go to ground.

10

The chain of events puzzled Jack.

First Bolton had come home and gone inside. Then Dawn appeared on the far side of the garage, coming around from the backyard. She got in her Jeep, started it up, and raced off, leaving Bolton facedown in the turf. When Bolton limped-hopped back inside, Jack expected him to return right away and take off after her.

But he didn't.

Which left Jack in a quandary: Go after Dawn or wait for Bolton's next move.

The issue was solved when Bolton came back outside holding a couple of sheets of paper. That explained the delay. He'd found the letter. Jack had printed up a couple of extra copies just in case Dawn never showed it to him. Because a big part of Jack's plan hinged on Bolton seeing the letter.

This was working out better than he'd hoped.

He watched him remove something from his wheel well, then ease into the car and drive off.

Jack followed. He was pretty sure Bolton wouldn't hurt Dawn, not when she was carrying the baby he'd worked so hard to create. As long as the baby's life was linked to hers, she was safe from harm. At least physical harm. He wasn't so sure about abduction and imprisonment, though.

Bolton made a beeline for Christy's house and parked in the driveway. Jack slowed as he passed. The house was dark—not a single light on inside or out. No sign of Dawn's car either, but it could be in the garage. Bolton didn't even check. He walked to the front door, unlocked it, and stepped inside.

Back to the scene of the crime.

Seemed awfully risky. Yeah, Dawn was undoubtedly worth it to him, but no sign she was there.

Jack went to the end of the block, hung a U, and cruised back. He needed a place to park but didn't want Bolton to see his car. Needed to know if Dawn was inside, though.

Hell with it.

He parked at the other end of the block and quick-walked back. Slipped around back and blinked his key-chain flash through the window.

No Jeep.

Okay. Good. That meant Dawn had gone somewhere else. As for what Bolton was up to inside, as long as he wasn't in the same house as Dawn, Jack didn't much care.

He headed back to his car. Figured he'd do some cruising, pass the house every so often, and follow Bolton when he left. No telling which way he'd tip but, sure as night followed day, Bolton was going to tip.