Every Precious Thing

She scowled, and turned back around.

It didn’t really matter if the man didn’t recognize it. According to the address her researcher had found, this was the house where Sara’s husband was supposed to live.

A tricycle was parked along the driveway so a young child did live there, one who would be around the same age as the baby girl Sara had.

“Doesn’t look like anyone is home,” Clausen said.

“He’s probably still at work,” she said.

“What do you want me to do?” Markle asked from behind the wheel.

“Go around the block one more time. Let’s see if we can find a quiet place where we can wait.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

“They just parked at a school,” Pep said into the phone.

“It’s in the same neighborhood where Alan lives,” Barney chimed in, his voice louder than it needed to be.

“They’re just sitting there?” Logan asked.

“They were a moment ago,” Pep said. “There was no good place to watch them from so we’re a few blocks away.”

“Okay. Let me think for a second.”

The line went silent.

“We need to get Harp,” Barney said to Pep, his voice lower now.

“We will,” Pep whispered back.

“Maybe we can distra-”

“Okay,” Logan said, coming back on. “Here’s what I want you to do. Find someplace to park near Alan’s but not in direct sight. Then, if you feel up to it, Pep, I want the two of you to stroll around. It’s not likely they’ll recognize either of you, so you should be able to keep an eye on things. Barney, show him exactly where Alan’s house is.”

“Should we try to see if we can get Harp out, too?” Barney asked.

“No! It’s too dangerous for just the two of you. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Pep said.

“Okay, good. Call me the moment anything happens.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

“Why?” Alan had asked.

“I don’t have all the details,” Callie had told him. “Only that we were right. Sara is in trouble. But it’s more than just her. The people who are after her want Emily, too.”

“Emily? Why would they want Emily?”

Callie hadn’t had the answer for that, either. “I have a cabin in Big Bear. Take her up there. Don’t call anyone. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll have the management company I use leave a key under the mat.”

Since Sara had left, Alan had felt useless. Even though he didn’t admit it to himself at the time, he knew right after he read her note that she needed help. Later, when he really thought about it, he realized he should have known even before then.

It had been little things, moments when he’d caught her off guard, staring at the wall or the ground or nothing at all, a look of despair on her face. He knew it wasn’t him, that it couldn’t be him. She loved him so much. She told him that every day, not just in words, but in each touch and smile and glance. These were enough for him to dismiss her half-hidden anguish and moments of panic.

He was Sara’s husband, dammit. He should have pushed to find out what was wrong. He should have done everything in his power to help her before she left, not after. But he’d failed her, and now, if he made a mistake, he would fail Emily, too.

He should have…should have…should-

“Daddy, go Macee Donal?”

Alan looked around.

My God. How did we get here so fast?

They were on the freeway already. He didn’t even remember taking the on-ramp.

“Daddy. Macee Donal! Macee Donal!”

He glanced in back. Strapped in her car seat, Emily was shaking her hand at the window.

“Macee Donal!”

At the exit just ahead, a McDonald’s sign was raised high in the air so travelers, especially two-year-old girls, wouldn’t miss it.

“Want friend fry, Daddy. Want friend fry!”

“Not right now, sweetie. We don’t have time.”

“Daddy, Daddy, pease!” She started to cry.

He felt a tug on his heart. “Okay,” he said, moving quickly over to the right lane. The least he could do was try to keep his daughter happy. “We’ll get some fries, all right?”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She sang his name in a way he always loved. “Soda?”

“How about milk?”

“Toclate milk!” she said with enthusiasm.

“Fine. Chocolate milk.”

She giggled, and began repeating, “Friend fry, toclate milk. Friend fry, toclate milk.”

Instead of using the drive-through, Alan decided they’d go inside. He needed to calm down and get control of himself. If he stayed on the road like he was, they were going to get into an accident.

He purchased the fries and chocolate milk for Emily and a coffee for himself. They found a booth along the wall.

An older Latina walked by and smiled at Emily. “Oh, so cute,” the woman said.

Alan had to do everything in his power not to reach out and put a protective arm in front of his daughter. Who was this woman? Why was she looking at Emily? Was she here to try and take her?

“Thanks,” he said.

The woman must have sensed his strain, her smile not as bright as she moved on.

Emily was in her own happy world, gingerly dipping one fry at a time into the dollop of ketchup Alan had squeezed onto the tray liner. She held one out to him.

“You, Daddy.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” he said, taking it.

As he watched her, he couldn’t help thinking he had to do something more than just hide. Whatever problems Sara was having, they were his problems, too. That’s what being married meant. Problems were something he dealt with every day. He had the experience in that area, so he needed to be involved in the solution.

He looked at Emily again. “How would you like to visit Aunt Rachel?”

She nodded as she put another fry in her mouth.

He could get to his sister’s and back in three hours. He’d tell her he had some emergency business he had to deal with. Chances were, Rachel would offer to keep Emily overnight. That would probably be best.

“Hurry up, sweetie. We need to get back on the road.”

“No,” she said. “Finish first.”

“Okay. Finish first.”