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immediately knew something had to be wrong. Her heart leaped when she saw the police car angled across the driveway. Beth Hamstead was standing beside a tall policeman out in front of the garage. Mallory threw off her seat belt and wrenched her car door open. Mac Phearson cut the engine, pulled the emergency brake and piled out his door after her. She felt his hand clamp down on her arm. “Be careful what you say.”
    Mallory jerked away from him. Beth’s brood hovered around their mother. But where was Emily? Mallory searched for her daughter’s amber-colored braids among the bobbing redheads. Oh, dear God, where was Emily? A call came over the police car radio, and the officer left Beth to go answer it.
    Beth stiffened when she spotted Mallory running up the steep driveway. “Oh, Mall, thank heaven you’re here. I’ve been out of my mind, trying to call you. Em’s wandered off.”
    It felt to Mallory as if the ground had disappeared from under her. She didn’t realize she’d nearly fallen until a hard, strong arm caught her around the shoulders.
Mac Phearson.
Forgetting that she barely knew him, no longer really caring, she leaned into him for much-needed support. “Wh-what do you mean, she’s wandered off, Beth? How long has it been since you saw her?” Mallory dreaded hearing the answer.
    Beth lifted both hands, blue eyes apologetic. “I only turned my back for a few minutes. The phone rang and I ran inside to answer it. That’s all, I swear it. You know how closely I watch her. She was right here playing with the others and then—then she was just gone.” Running her fingers through her red hair, Beth flashed an unconvincing smile. “I’m sure she’s just lost her way in the woods. No need to panic. In this thick brush, it happens sometimes. I can’t count the times my kids have gotten turned around. Of course, they’re more familiar with the area, so they’ve always gotten back before I felt it was necessary to call the police.”
    Fear sluiced down Mallory’s spine and pooled like ice at the small of her back. An image of her daughter’s face swam through her head, and she felt a scream welling in her throat. She clamped her arms around her middle, clinging desperately to her self-control. Mac Phearson’s hand clasped hers where it rested at her waist and she threw him a pleading look. The dismay she read in his eyes only intensified her fear. “Lucetti?” she whispered.
    â€œLet’s not jump to conclusions,” he cautioned in a low voice. “It doesn’t add up.”
    He threw an uneasy glance at the policeman to make sure he wasn’t listening.
    Ignoring his warning glance, Mallory continued her questions. “You don’t think Lucetti took her, then?”
    Mac Phearson’s gaze slid to Beth before he answered. The redhead was busy speaking with one of her children, not listening to them. “When professionals make a hit, they do it quick and clean, Mallory. They couldn’t have found a more ideal place than here, remote, no witnesses. Why take her someplace else and risk being seen while they—” He broke off and swallowed.
    Mallory knew what it must be that he had left unsaid, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on it. What he
had
said was what she must concentrate on and that was bad enough. If Lucetti was out for blood, he couldn’t have found a better place to spill it. Which meant what?
    The police officer turned away from the car, his face lined with concern. He stared at Mallory’s torn stockings and bare feet for a moment, then lifted his gaze to Mac Phearson’s smeared sweatshirt. “I assume you’re Mr. and Mrs. Christiani?”
    â€œI’m Mrs. Christiani. This is my friend, Mr. Mac Ph—”
    â€œPleased, I’m sure,” Mac Phearson said, cutting the introduction short and extending his arm for a