Childfinders, Inc.: An Uncommon Hero. Marie Ferrarella

McNair lit up and inhaled. His eyes closed for a moment, as if he were having a spiritual experience. When he opened them again, he looked calmer, more capable of continuing. “If Gloria had left a note, I would have been taking care of this myself.” He glanced toward the closed door. “Is Townsend around? Maybe he…?”

      It obviously rankled McNair to deal with anyone who wasn’t the top man. “Cade’s out of town on a case. The caseload is pretty heavy. Right now, I appear to be all you have at your disposal.”

      McNair wouldn’t have been where he was if he wasn’t good at damage control. A smile nothing short of charming creased his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fly off the handle that way earlier. I can usually keep my temper under wraps, it’s just that this is all completely new to me. Being a father, being a kidnap victim…”

      “Strictly speaking, Andrew’s the kidnap victim, but don’t feel bad, this kind of thing usually is new to everyone. Now, if you’ll make yourself comfortable, I still have a few more questions to ask you.” Ben saw the slight frown on McNair’s face reemerge. “I’ll try to make this as painless for you as possible.”

      McNair looked at his watch before answering. Ben saw the flash of a Rolex. Nothing but the best, he thought.

      “All right,” Stephen agreed. “But I have to be back at a meeting in an hour.”

      He’d never run into a kidnap victim’s father who’d set a time limit before. Took all kinds, Ben supposed. “You’ll be back sooner than that.”

      As Ben got out his pad, he wondered just when Stephen McNair had found the time to even father a child.

      She frowned slightly as she settled in. She wasn’t used to lying and this was certainly lying. Big time. It was going to take a great deal of practice and care on her part. One misstep and people were going to begin suspecting that something wasn’t right.

      And once suspicions were aroused…

      She didn’t want to go there. There was far too much at stake for her to dwell on the consequences. There was no point in thinking about losing everything, it would only paralyze her.

      For a moment, she paused in the doorway, looking into the small room the little boy had taken as his own. It was remarkable how resilient he was. She could stand to learn a thing or two from him about rolling with the punches and bouncing back.

      He’d thrown off the covers again. Quietly, she crept into the room, careful not to make any noise that might wake him.

      Very softly, she draped the comforter around his small body. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, she passed it ever so lightly against his cheek. He meant everything to her.

      “Sweet dreams, sweet prince,” she whispered before withdrawing.

      She kept the door slightly ajar so she could hear him calling if he needed her. He was having those nightmares again.

      She slipped into bed. It was early, but she was tired. Lately, she’d been so drained. But then, she had reason enough to be. Before she fell asleep, as she did every night now, she thanked God for a new chance. A new chance to finally, perhaps, find peace and make her life work.

      Work for her and for the little boy she loved.

      About to leave, Ben saw a pencil-thin ray of light slipping out from beneath the door of Eliza’s office. Savannah had mentioned that the woman had just wrapped up the case she’d been working on.

      Rapping once on her door, Ben opened it and peeked in. Eliza was looking through one of the files that were spread out all over her desk and glanced in his direction. Her smile was warmth itself.

      “I didn’t think there’d be anyone still in the office. Don’t you have a home to go to?” Ben asked.

      “I could say the same to you,” she replied.

      He leaned against the doorjamb. “Caught a new case this afternoon.” He peered at the agency’s newest partner. “You feeling all right?”

      “Not enough sleep lately,” she confessed with a shrug. “I’ve been having dreams lately.”

      “Dreams, or dreams?” he asked.

      They both knew what he meant by the emphasis. One of her “seeing” dreams. The ones that crept up out of the dark and wouldn’t give her peace until she solved the puzzle they came from. The ones she’d been blessed, or plagued with, depending on the point of view, since she’d turned twelve. “The latter.”

      He looked at her with eyes that silently communicated his sympathy. “Know what it’s about yet?”

      She shook her head. All she knew was that there was a child somewhere who needed her. But where and who and why, she hadn’t a clue and it was tormenting her.

      “No, but I will. Eventually.” Eliza changed the topic. “So, you didn’t answer me. What are you still doing here?”

      He noticed that she hadn’t given him an answer, either, but he let it pass. “Gathering some background information. I’m going to be out of town for a couple of days. Let the others know when they come in tomorrow, will you?”

      “Sure thing.” She swung her chair around to face him. “Going somewhere good?”

      He laughed. “Depends on what you think of Saratoga.”

      Interest highlighted her delicate face. She assumed he was talking about the tiny town up north from Bedford, California. “Why Saratoga?”

      “Our main kidnapping suspect has a relative there. Only living one I can come up with at the moment. A widowed great-aunt named—” he grinned “—Sugarland Malone. Not sure if she knows where the suspect is, but it’s worth a shot.” Even if the great-aunt did know, she might not be willing to disclose the information, Ben thought. Blood was thicker than water and he was an outsider.

      Eliza smiled. It didn’t take a clairvoyant to guess what was on his mind. “If anyone can get the lady to loosen her tongue, you can.”

      He wondered how much of that was flattery and how much was intuition. Eliza was a genuine psychic, one whom the police had brought in on more than a few of their unsolvable cases. He’d been as skeptical of her as anyone when he’d first met Eliza, but she’d eventually made a believer out of him. “You give me too much credit.”

      Her smile deepened, the shy edge fading. “No, I don’t.”

      Amused, he cocked his head. “Your psychic intuition, I take it?”

      She shook her head. “More like female intuition. Some things are just self-evident.” Like a man who could charm the feathers off a bird, she thought with a smile. She doubted if he knew just how persuasive those dark blue eyes of his really were. “I’ll tell the others—and good hunting.”

      “Thanks.”

      That was the word for it, all right, he thought as he closed the door behind him. Hunting.

      Chapter 2

      The jarring noise pushed its way into his consciousness.

      It was the phone, Ben realized as his brain surfaced out of a dreamless sleep. The phone was ringing. Groping for the receiver, he tried to locate and focus in on his clock.

      Four-thirty.

      In the morning?

      He scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to pull himself together. “Hello, you’d better be an obscene phone call to make this worth my while.”

      “I’ve already offered to make it worth your while, Underwood.”

      The voice—cool and official—jarred loose a memory. “Mr. McNair?” Ben looked at the clock again. A hint of annoyance entered his voice. He’d come home and done further background work for his intended trip today. He’d slept for less than