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to that.”
    He didn’t sound indifferent, he sounded contemptuous. And for the life of her Mallory couldn’t see what it was he found so revolting. Her expensive green suit was a mess, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t going to take any fashion prizes himself. In frustration, she decided to let the issue drop. Indifference could be mutual.
    She forced her mind back to his question, Keith’s income. Could her father-in-law have become involved in something shady? No, she couldn’t believe it of him, not for an instant. “There’s been no increase in income that I’m aware of. No strangers calling. Nothing. He’s been tense...that’s all.”
    â€œHow about strange cars in the neighborhood?”
    â€œNo, not that I noticed. Our neighborhood is pretty quiet.”
    He frowned. “There has to be something we’re missing.”
    Mallory had no answer. “Keith’s a good man, an honest man.”
    â€œI know that.” He squinted to see out the dirty windshield. “You said to take a left at two hundred and twenty-sixth, right?”
    She nodded and tried to read the street signs. They still had about a half mile to go before their turn. “It’s not finished yet, is it? They could still find us.”
    â€œAssuming Lucetti doesn’t already know where we’re heading. It’s possible that he’s been having you followed.”
    Sweat sprang to her palms. So much for her calm assumption that Emily was safe. Thank goodness they were only a short distance from Beth’s. “You think that he might’ve?”
    â€œIt’s possible. But let’s not borrow trouble.”
    He was right. She had problems aplenty already.
    He glanced over at her. “You look exhausted. How long since you slept and ate?”
    â€œI’m fine.”
    Remembering the bitterness that had crept into his voice earlier, she fastened a curious stare on him. One minute he sounded almost as if he hated her, the next he took her off guard by being kind. Did he have some particular reason for disliking Bellevue people? He seemed loyal enough to Keith, referring to him as a surrogate father, which meant he must have grown up in the Seattle area. Intercity, probably. But what part? She shifted her gaze to the pile of junk on his back seat. The baseball bat caught her eye. “I take it you like kids?”
    â€œThey’re okay.”
    â€œYou must think they’re a little better than okay or you wouldn’t coach ball.”
    He checked the rearview mirror again. “We can’t all do our good deeds at fancy charity dinners.”
    She ignored the dig. “Still live in your old neighborhood?”
    â€œMy mom does.”
    â€œIs that where you coach?”
    He hesitated before answering. “That’s right.”
    â€œIs it a school team?”
    He looked over at her. Something flickered in his eyes, something so cold it almost made Mallory shiver. “You want to know what part of Seattle I’m from, right?”
    â€œIs there something wrong with that?”
    â€œNope. Just predictable.”
    It was several seconds before she realized he hadn’t answered her question.
Just predictable.
What was that supposed to mean? He took the sharp left turn off the Woodinville-Duvall Road. She pointed through the trees toward Beth’s two-story, white house. “It’s the third right, up there on the hill.” Glancing at her watch, she added, “The kids are probably out in the pasture with Lovey. It’s not quite supper time yet.”
    â€œLovey?”
    â€œThe Shetland pony.”
    Mac Phearson steered the car up the narrow, winding driveway. Trees blocked Mallory’s view of the house. She strained her neck to see the upper pasture, hoping to spot her daughter. When she looked back at Mac Phearson, he was staring straight ahead, his eyes flat and hard. He braked to a stop.
    Mallory