The Cop's Missing Child. Karen Whiddon

him that well, though my friend Joe speaks highly of him. Mac used to be a cop, up in Albany, which is where Joe works. I heard Mac kind of spooked you a bit.”

      “He did, a little.” With a cheery wave and a manufactured smile, Emily let herself out, sighing. The damn letter had succeeded in erasing nearly four and a half years of security, all at once. Mac Riordan’s appearance had made things even worse. After all, Albany was only several hours north of Manhattan.

      She didn’t just have her own security to worry about. She had to keep her son safe. Clearly she had a decision to make—and quickly.

      Once at work, Emily pushed the letter from her mind … and Mac Riordan, as well. Though as her lunch hour approached and she prepared to head out for her daily walk, she couldn’t help but think of him. Surely he’d taken the hint and wouldn’t show up in the park today.

      If he did, she’d have to accept that he was stalking her. And then she’d have to quit her job, pick up Ryan and go home and pack, running away in the middle of the night without a single goodbye to anyone.

      Heart pounding and feeling queasy at the thought, she shook her head. Maybe if she tried to think logically, it was possible the man simply liked her. She’d felt a sort of electrical connection, despite having all her barriers up. From the way he’d looked at her, blue eyes dark and full of promise, he’d felt it, too. Exhaling, she laced up her sneakers and nevertheless prayed he wouldn’t be there.

      He wasn’t. The pressure in her chest and the sick feeling in her stomach eased a little as she enjoyed a quiet, uninterrupted walk. The sun shone brightly; a few white, fluffy clouds dotted the sky like sheep; and birds sang, dogs barked, and people all around her enjoyed the bright spring day.

      After, perspiring slightly and feeling pretty good, she stepped into Sue’s Catfish Hut and greeted her friends. As she took her usual seat, she couldn’t help but do a quick scan of the restaurant for a sight of those broad shoulders and dark gray hair.

      Again, Mac Riordan was conspicuously absent. For the first time all day, she allowed herself to relax, even though a tiny part of her felt disappointed at his absence. She enjoyed her meal, chatting with Jayne and Tina and sipping iced tea.

      She went back to work with a light step, allowing herself to believe everything just might turn out to be all right. By the end of the workday, she felt almost normal.

      After helping close up the veterinary clinic, she hopped in her car and headed over to the day care.

      As soon as she arrived, Ryan flung himself at her, holding on to her legs with a fierce grip.

      “Finally,” he groused. “It took you forever to pick me up. I’m all played out.”

      She couldn’t help but laugh at his choice of words. The after school programs at Mims’s Day Care tended to lean toward organized games, most of them physical. The tall trees made the heavily shaded playground the perfect place for youngsters to run off pent-up aggressions or simply play.

      “Well, now you get to rest,” she said. “Grab your stuff and we’ll go.”

      He did as she asked, snatching up his camo backpack and waving goodbye to his friends.

      Once she’d buckled him into his booster seat, she climbed in the front and started the engine.

      “How’s a tuna casserole sound for dinner?” This should be a sure hit since he always loved the one she made, using the leftover mac and cheese from last night and adding a can of peas and a can of tuna.

      “No. I want a Good Times meal.” Looking mutinous, little Ryan crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “With fries. No tuna.”

      Tired as she might be, still Emily managed to summon a smile for her son. “Rough day at school?” she asked, leaning over the backseat and ruffling his hair.

      “Yep. And at Mim’s, too. I’m tired of playing.”

      This was a new one. “Tired of playing? You? Why?”

      “Because they always make me be the bad guy.”

      Emily blinked. “Really? Why?”

      He looked away, his lower lip quivering. “I dunno. Mommy, can we please get a Good Times meal?”

      Though she’d planned on making the casserole and eating it for a couple of days, she relented. “Sure, I guess I’ll just get a salad or something.”

      Apparently everyone’s children wanted Good Times meals. The drive-thru line had six cars already waiting. Emily debated going inside, but judging from the crowded interior, she’d be better off waiting in her car—especially since Ryan kept fidgeting, whining and protesting he was too big for a booster seat, even though the law stated he had to weigh a hundred pounds before graduated to just being buckled into the seat belt.

      “You’ve still got some growing to do,” she informed him.

      “I haven’t been weighed lately,” he said huffily. “Now I’m a big boy. I bet I weigh a hundred and five now.”

      Considering him solemnly, she somehow kept from smiling. “Okay,” she finally said. “When we get home, we’ll check.”

      He pumped his little fist up in the air. “And next time I go in the car, I can buckle up like a big person?”

      “If you weigh over one hundred.” Which she knew he didn’t.

      “And I can ride in the front with you?”

      “We’ll see.” Finally, they reached the window. Placing her order, she glanced back at her son, who’d finally fallen quiet. He was staring at something in the parking lot. As she followed his gaze, she recoiled. Mac Riordan stood next to a large white pickup truck, talking to another man. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t seen her.

      Struggling to hide her fear, she handed the money to the window cashier, accepted her order and put the car in Drive. Heart pounding, she pulled away, using only her rearview mirror to make sure she hadn’t been spotted.

      All the way home, jumpy and unsettled, she kept checking to make sure they weren’t being followed. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred, and they pulled into the driveway slowly.

      Not for the first time, Emily wished she could afford an automatic garage door opener. How much simpler and safer it would be to just hit a button, pull into the concealed garage and close the door behind you, all before even getting out of the car.

      If she stayed in Anniversary, she’d have to put money aside to buy one.

      Parking, she gave the rearview mirror one final check before unlocking the doors. The smell of fast-food made her stomach growl, and she was glad she’d opted for a grilled chicken sandwich instead of a salad. She needed something a bit more substantial today, especially since she knew she wouldn’t be getting much sleep.

      Making decisions had never been her strong suit. She literally had to force herself to act at times—especially if she didn’t have a clear picture of potential repercussions.

      She wished she could be one of those kinds of people who could go with their gut, trusting their instinct. Not her … she always required the facts.

      Helping Ryan out of the car, she took his hand. Together, they walked up the sidewalk to the front of their circa 1960 rental house. Then she realized something was wrong.

      “Hold on.” Grasping Ryan’s hand firmly, she stopped. “Don’t move.”

      Though she’d locked it securely that morning, the front door was slightly ajar and obviously unlocked. Someone had been—or was still—inside her house.

       Chapter 3

      Since Emily wouldn’t hire him as her bodyguard, Mac knew it was time to go to plan B. He sauntered into the Anniversary Police Department, intent on asking Renee for a job. To his surprise, she sat at the front desk in the receptionist’s