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right.”
    â€œThis is Seattle, not Miami Vice.”
    His eyes locked with hers. She had the feeling that he thoroughly disliked her.
    â€œYou say
Seattle
like it’s smack dab in the middle of
Disneyland
.
Most
cops are on the level, probably ninety-nine-point-nine percent, but it only takes one. Bellevue, with its manicured streets and fancy houses and fifty-thousand-dollar cars, isn’t the real world. I know that’s hard for you to digest, but take a stab at it.”
    â€œJust what
are
we going to do, then?”
    â€œWe’re going to go pick up your kid and then get out of town.” He gave her a challenging glance. “Unless you can come up with a better suggestion?”
    For the life of her, Mallory couldn’t think of a single one.

Chapter Three
    The ride to Beth Hamstead’s house, where Emily was staying, took thirty minutes, during which Mallory felt the tension in her neck and shoulders beginning to ease. She couldn’t think of any way anyone could know where Emily was. That thought and the peaceful country scenery along the Woodinville-Duvall Road soothed her as nothing else could. Leaning her head back against the rest, she watched the green hillsides whiz by, relishing the cool caress of the early-evening breeze as it rushed in through her open window. In a few more minutes, she would have her daughter safely in her arms, and Mac Phearson would spirit them away to a safe place where they could wait together until he could find out what was going on.
    Turning her head, she watched him as he maneuvered the car, one shoulder propped against his door, one hand loosely curled around the steering wheel. At a glance, he appeared relaxed. Only his eyes gave him away. They darted continually from the road to his rearview mirror. His watchfulness reminded her that the nightmare from which they’d just escaped was far from over.
    â€œSee anyone?”
    â€œNot yet. Mrs. Christiani—”
    â€œMallory, please. Mrs. seems so formal.”
    â€œMallory,” he corrected. “I want you to think back over the last few weeks. Has Keith said or done anything odd?”
    She shook her head. “He’s been horribly tense, that’s all.”
    â€œAny strangers been calling the house? People who’ve never called before? It’s extremely important.”
    Again she shook her head.
    â€œHas Keith been gone at odd hours? Has he, um, had a sudden increase in income?”
    Mallory stiffened. “Just what are you implying?”
    â€œNothing. I’m just trying to—” He narrowed his eyes. “Get something straight, okay? Keith’s like a father to me. I’m not maligning his character, just looking for answers.”
    â€œHe
isn’t
dealing in anything criminal, not Keith.”
    â€œHas he had an increase in income?”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œDon’t just say no,
think
. Like it or not, he’s tied up in something pretty nasty and there has to be a reason for it. Not everyone runs in your circles, you know. Keith didn’t meet Lucetti over a friendly game of handball at the athletic club.”
    Mallory sat straighter in the seat. He made affluence sound like a sin. It wasn’t as if she were one of the rich and famous, after all. Her dad was an ex-congressman—so what? She had been raised in a town where the wealthy greatly outnumbered the middle-income families. Again, so what? People didn’t pick their parents, after all.
    â€œYou don’t like me, do you?” she ground out.
    His jaw tensed. “I just met you. Why wouldn’t I like you?”
    â€œYou tell me.”
    He turned his attention from the road to give her a lazy perusal. “If I had to describe my feelings toward you, I’d have to say I’m indifferent. I haven’t known you long enough to form a personal opinion of you. I’m here as a favor to Keith. Which brings us back to my question. Let’s stick