Every Precious Thing

immediately grabbed the guy by the shoulders and hauled him around the back of the car. As he yanked him up onto the grass that lined the curb, a second shadow peeled away from the hedge in front of the nearby house and joined him.

Kneeling beside the unconscious man, the face of one of the shadows moved into the bit of dome light filtering through the car’s window.

Dev.

Logan extracted himself from his hiding place, ran out and picked up the suppressor-enhanced gun off the street.

As he joined the others at the curb, Dev looked at him and smiled. “Figured that was you,” he whispered.

“Hey, Logan.” The second shadow was Pep.

“Where’d you guys come from?” he asked.

“Found them parked just up the street around the corner,” Dev whispered. “Thought we’d take advantage of the other two going inside. Guess you had the same idea. Where’s everyone else?”

“Safe,” Logan said. “I hope.”

“Is this the son of a bitch who ambushed me?” Pep asked, looking down at the driver.

“Um, we’ll have to talk about that later.” Logan looked at the car and saw that Harp and Alan were still inside, looking around nervously. “Didn’t you tell them to get out?”

“I didn’t really have time to say anything,” Dev said.

CHAPTER SEVENTY — FIVE

Someone was approaching the car again. Harp had no idea what was going on, so he braced himself, preparing for the worst. The door next to Alan opened.

“You guys just going to stay there? Or are you coming out?”

It was Logan.

Without another thought, Harp pushed Alan out the back and crawled out after him, pausing only long enough to pick up the copy of Lost Horizon that had been pushed partway under the front passenger seat. The book had gone to war, come home with Len, hung around for another sixty-plus years, and it had been damaged more in the last few days than in any of that time before. It hurt him to see it so, but he was glad to be holding it again.

He was even gladder to see his son, and gave him a big hug.

“Not a lot of time right now, Dad,” Logan said.

Harp pulled back. “I thought you were still in Arizona.”

Logan ushered both of them onto the sidewalk. “I heard the real action was in Simi Valley.”

“Evening, Mr. Harper,” Pep said.

“Hey, Harp,” Dev chimed in.

“Dev. Pep,” Harp said, his surprise continuing. Then he noticed Markle’s body on the ground. “Is he dead?” He turned to his son. “Did you kill him?”

“What makes you think I did it?” Logan asked. He pointed at Dev.

“Still alive,” Dev said.

Alan shook himself, his eyes refocusing. He looked at Logan and Harp, then turned and headed for the house.

Logan reached out and grabbed him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“They’re inside getting Emily. I’ve got to stop them.”

“They may be inside, but they’re not getting Emily.”

“What?”

“She’s not there.”

“Where is she?”

“With your sister and Sara.”

“Sara?” Alan all but shouted.

“Quiet!” Logan said. He pointed up the street. “I need you two to go get Barney. He’s in Dev’s Jeep around the corner. Dad, when you get there, call Callie. Tell her to call the Simi Valley Police and that FBI contact of hers she mentioned when she told us about Alan. Get them here now. Once you’ve done that, come back here and the three of you watch this guy. I don’t want him wandering off. But be careful. Don’t let anyone else see you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you think?”

Harp frowned but said nothing.

“I’m coming with you,” Alan said.

“No, you’re not. You’ll get us killed.”

“I won’t.”

“You will. Trust me. Now get going!”

Harp grabbed Alan by the arm. “Come on. They know what they’re doing.”

Alan didn’t look happy, but he finally allowed himself to be led away.

When they reached the corner, Harp looked back. Logan and the others were gone.

CHAPTER SEVENTY — SIX

Erica watched as Clausen pulled out a set of lock picks and set to work on the door.

“Forgot to lock their deadbolt,” Clausen whispered with a smile. He worked the bottom lock for a few seconds before it gave in. “Too much faith in crappy hardware.”

He eased open the door wide enough for them to enter, then drew his gun and stepped inside. Erica followed.

There was a smell in the air, something musty, but not old. Like a…dog. Yes, that was it. The smell of a dog. That could be a problem. If the animal sensed their presence, it could start barking and expose them, making their job harder. Erica put a hand on Clausen’s back.

“Hold on,” she mouthed.

They held their position for half a minute, but the sound of claws running across the floor never materialized. With any luck, the dog was asleep in one of the bedrooms, or, God willing, outside.

They did quick checks of the living room, kitchen, and family room, noting dishes in the sink from a meal eaten not too long ago. Of special interest was the child’s sippy cup. It wasn’t proof that the girl was still here, but in Erica’s mind, there was no doubt now that this was where she had been hiding.

They approached the hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping just outside it to listen.

All quiet. Too quiet.

Was no one at home? Where would they have gone? They’d obviously eaten dinner here, and if they were at all responsible, they wouldn’t be out too late with a two-year-old.

She looked into the hallway. It had a hardwood floor, partially covered by a carpet runner down the middle. The hall veered to the left, then made a ninety-degree right turn, disappearing from view. The only door visible led to a bathroom a few feet down.

Stepping all the way onto the runner, she carefully transferred her weight to minimize any sound of creaking floorboards. She repeated the process step by step down the hallway and around the corner.

There were three doors along the new section. When she reached the first, she looked in. Bedroom. It looked like a boy’s room, though clean and tidy, as if the kid who used it hadn’t been home for a while.

The bedroom at the end of the hall was clearly the master. Even the small portion Erica could see was nearly twice as wide as the room she’d just checked. If the girl was here, her bet was