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Jordan scanned the encroaching shadows for threats as we huddled on Hope’s patio.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Holly.”
I wasn’t sure it was a good idea either, but after finding the message on the whiteboard, what other option was there?
I reached between the bars and pounded on Hope’s apartment door with the side of my fist. “If Hope really does need help, then maybe we can find answers here. Sally might be able to tell us something.”
The babysitter was supposed to bring Tyler home so he could play with his own toys and sleep in his own bed, so she should be here.
“I know you don’t think I should trust Hope, but I have to follow my instincts,” I said.
“She helped a man try to kidnap you two hours ago, so no, I don’t think you should trust her.”
“She left a message asking for help.”
“We don’t know who wrote that note on the whiteboard.”
“She calls me Nancy Drew, and she addressed the message to Nancy.”
Jordan sighed. “Even if she did leave that message, if she truly needed help, why not say something when she came to the agency afterward?”
“I don’t know.” The possibilities flitted through my head until a detail I had glossed over at the Agency sharpened. “The phone.”
“What phone?”
“When she came to tell me to back off the case, she had a phone in her hand, but she left hers in the hospital trash can.”
“She picked up a burner.”
“Or he called her at the hospital, told her to toss her phone, and had her meet him somewhere so he could give her a phone he could monitor.”
Jordan couldn’t hide the skepticism from his voice. “If she’s not complicit, why would he give her a phone at all?”
“So he could listen in. When we were talking in the lobby of the agency, there was someone outside walking their dog. I heard it bark. And then I heard the exact bark again, but faint like . . . an echo.”
Thought lines creased his forehead. “An echo like what comes through the phone speaker when a caller is close by.”
“Yes. I think he was on the other end of the line, listening to make sure she didn’t say anything he didn’t want her to. And considering I could hear the dog from the lobby and coming through her phone . . .”
“The person on the other end was right outside the agency.” Jordan bit back a curse at the realization.
“I don’t think she was leading me into a trap, Jordan. I think when she failed to convince me to drop the case, and I followed her, he followed me. And then I saw the van he’s been driving, the bullet holes linking him to Dorina’s attempted kidnapping, the license plate.”
“But what could he be holding over her to force her to help him?”
Both of our gazes drifted to the smashed sucker on the sidewalk, and I said, “The safety of the person she cares for more than anything in this world.”
Concern rippled across Jordan’s face. He’d been performing magic tricks for that little boy hours ago, delighting in his laughter and wonder. He hammered on the door with the side of his fist, mindless of any complaints it would draw at this hour, while I squeezed between the bushes and the building to peek through the window.
I squinted through slatted blinds at the dim interior, my breath fogging the glass. The place was tidy, except the glass of spilled milk on the floor.
“Jordan.”
I leaned, straining to see more, and spotted a handful of scattered orange slices. Jordan crunched through the mulch and peered over my head, tension threading through his voice. “We need to call the police.”
“For spilled food?” I wedged my fingers under the windowpane and heaved, but it didn’t budge.
“They can do a wellness check.”
“We’re doing a wellness check right now. I’m not waiting for them.” I stumbled out of the bushes and back to the front door, wiggling the knob. Locked. “I’m going around back.”
I jogged through the alley toward the back of the building, puddles splashing around my feet. I rounded the building and found the back door that led into the kitchen. Also locked.
I slapped the door in frustration. Something was wrong—I could feel it in the pit of my stomach—but I couldn’t get inside. I backed away from the door, and something crinkled beneath my shoe. I lifted my foot off the tangle of plastic wrap, tape, and cardboard.
Was that a plastic-wrapped pizza box?
My gaze darted to the hole in the kitchen wall. Someone had ripped through Hope’s makeshift covering and dragged it into the alley, leaving an opening into the apartment.
She’d been worried it would leave her vulnerable to another burglary, but I had a feeling something much worse than a burglary had happened here.
“Crap,” Jordan breathed, when he saw the uncovered hole. He pulled out his phone to report the break-in.
An overturned bucket had been pushed up against the building to use as a step stool, and I climbed up to see into the kitchen. Except for a nightlight in the hallway, darkness consumed the interior.
“Hello!” I shouted.
A muffled sound drifted back to me as Jordan explained the situation to the dispatcher. It might’ve been a cry, but it was nearly drowned by ambient noise.
“I think someone might be hurt.” I planted my hands on the boards that had been used to frame in the window and hefted myself up, ignoring the twinge in my wrist.
“Holly, you can’t go in there.” Jordan motioned me out of the opening. “Hop down.”
I tucked my legs into my chest and then swung them out the other side, dropping into the kitchen. When Jordan released a frustrated sigh, I replied, “You said hop down.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
I ignored his exasperation as I wiped my hands on my puffy coat and then searched for the light switch. He ended the call with the dispatcher and pulled himself up into the window frame, contorting to fit through the narrow passage.
He landed beside me with a grunt and rolled his shoulder. “If a man came in and out this way, he can’t be very big.”
“If it was my would-be kidnapper, he’s not. He’s bigger than me, but Sam could flick him off his feet.”
“That could be why he had so much trouble subduing you and Dorina.” He drew his gun, keeping it trained on the floor. “Anyone in here?”
A muffled whimper came from deeper inside the apartment.
“Stay behind me,” Jordan said, quashing my urge to dart past him and help whoever was in need. He took the lead with me on his heels.
The desperate plea led us to the bathroom door, and Jordan rested a hand on the knob. Bracing for any threats that might be inside, he flung it open.
My heart skipped at the sight.
A woman lay on her side on the floor, arms behind her back, duct tape wound around her head and ankles.
I tried to slip past Jordan to help her, but he nudged me back. Stepping around the bound woman, he trained his gun on the closed shower curtain, and then whipped it open.
Empty.
“Okay.” He stepped out of the bathroom so I could squeeze in.
I dropped to my knees beside the babysitter. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna try to get you free, okay?”
Fear and relief glittered in her liquid brown eyes as I rummaged through my knapsack for my box cutter. I pushed out the blade, locking it in place.
“I’m gonna check the rest of the apartment. Shout if you need me,” Jordan said. He disappeared from the doorway, his footsteps almost silent as he moved from room to room.
I doubted he was going to find Tyler nestled beneath his blankets, hugging a stuffed dinosaur.
I readjusted on my knees. “Try to stay still.”
I pulled at the tape in her hair, loosening it so I could slice through it with the blade. When the last fiber gave, I peeled it from her face, wincing as I ripped out strands of her hair.
She sucked in a breath before releasing a sob.
I leaned over her to find plastic binding her wrists behind her back. Nausea pooled in the pit of my stomach, and sweat slicked my palms. The memory of sawing through my own restraints with a pair of scissors pushed to the front of my mind.
But I couldn’t let myself fall into that memory and leave this woman in this position. Wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, I began cutting at the zip tie, careful not to nick her wrists.
“Who did this to you? Did he hurt you?”
She released another trembling breath. “He was wearing a mask. I was in the bathroom when I heard a noise. I thought it was Tyler messing around in the kitchen, but when I opened the door to come out, there was a man. He shoved me back inside and tied me up at knifepoint.” She whimpered and stretched her wrists as I went to work on her feet. “We were only back from the hospital for a couple of hours before he broke in.”
That meant she’d been lying here, tied up, for about four hours.
A sound came from behind me, and I whirled toward the doorway with the box cutter.
Jordan held up his hands. “There’s no one else here.” His gaze dipped to the mutilated zip tie on the floor, and his eyes shimmered with compassion when he looked back at me. “We’re good.”
I tucked away my tiny blade, heartbeat staggering back to a normal rhythm. “Tyler?”
Jordan’s jaw hardened. “Gone.”
Sally pushed herself into a sitting position against the vanity cabinet, rubbing at her raw wrists. “He took him. He grabbed the Benadryl from the medicine cabinet, and I think he put some in Tyler’s Kool-Aid. They hung around for fifteen minutes or so, and I heard Tyler say he was sleepy.”
The man could easily maneuver Tyler out the kitchen opening and into his van if the boy was half-asleep from Benadryl.
Fresh tears dripped down Sally’s face. “Why did he take him? What am I gonna tell Hope?”
I suspected Hope already knew. She’d been at the hospital when this man broke in and took her son, and it was around that time that she received the call from Cami’s number. I could imagine the caller informing her that he had her child, a terrifying revelation that would spur Hope to do whatever was necessary to save her little boy.