Not a Moment Too Soon. Linda O. Johnston

      “I agree.” John’s voice was modulated but firm. “Although I’ve an audition coming up, so I can’t stay much longer.”

      Then Shauna had been right; Margo’s friends were actors, or at least one was.

      “It’s okay.” Margo’s tone was cheerfully courageous. “I’ll call you both later. Thanks so much for coming.” She followed them, presumably to see them to the door.

      As the three left the room, Shauna said, “If it’s going to cause problems for me to be here—”

      “Stay here,” Hunter commanded. And then, more softly, he added, “Please.”

      She might wind up having to pick her battles with the man. This one was a no-brainer. Shauna stayed where she was.

      A minute later, Margo returned. “All right,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I don’t like being ganged up on like this, but what do you want?”

      “It’s our intention to find Andee for you, Ms. Masters,” said Simon, “yet we need your guidance. You are the closest to an eyewitness that we have.” His aristocratic accent added once more to the formality of his words.

      “Start at the beginning,” Hunter told Margo. “I know you told me before, but I want everyone to hear. Tell us exactly what happened when Andee disappeared.”

      Hunter wanted to get on the move to find Andee, if he only had a clue where to look.

      He also wanted to throttle his ex-wife. She should be tossing them clues. That was in the strategy Hunter had started developing, since it made sense.

      Hell, nothing made sense right now.

      He’d seen the pain in Shauna’s expression when Margo attacked her. Found himself admiring Shauna for her composure under fire. She was here only because he’d dragged her along, in case she could be of help. Not as a shrink, of course, but no one else needed to know the real reason.

      And though he would never admit it to her—didn’t want even to admit it to himself—as a psychologist or not, her presence was of some comfort, at least to him.

      Banger must have picked up on it, or at least on something regarding Shauna, since he hadn’t told her to leave as he had Margo’s drama-society support system. Or maybe he just liked the looks of her. Who wouldn’t?

      Right now, Margo’s cluelessness and nastiness were only a fraction of why Hunter wanted to wring her neck.

      On top of everything else, now that she had an audience, her description of how she’d reacted to Andee’s disappearance was heartrending, as if Margo, and not their missing daughter, should be at the center of their concerns.

      “I was only inside for a couple of minutes,” she said. She was seated now, her face in her hands, her voice muffled. “I—I expected a call about an audition, but I’d forgotten to carry the portable phone. Andee was outside, waving one of those wands that blow giant bubbles. I grabbed the phone and went right out again, but when I returned to the backyard, the wand was there but Andee wasn’t.”

      Her voice broke, and she shuddered as she cried into her hands. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I know I haven’t always been a good mother, but I love Andee. We have to find her.”

      If she hadn’t been Margo, an actress whose stock-in-trade of over-the-top emotion Hunter had seen all too often as she’d manipulated him, he’d have felt sorry for her. Might have held her, to ease her pain.

      But as he’d gotten to know her, after they were married, he had lost all certainty as to what was feigned and what was real.

      She’d given him custody of Andee easily enough. Having a kid burdened an up-and-coming unmarried actress.

      On the other hand, even if she admittedly wasn’t an ideal mother, Andee was her child, too.

      “Tell us how you attempted to find her.” Simon, bless him, had gone to Margo’s side and rested a hand consolingly on her back.

      She looked up, and her eyes actually were red, swollen and wet—and they looked directly at Hunter.

      Which made him feel about three inches tall. What a louse he was. Of course she cared that their daughter was missing.

      “I’m sorry, Hunter,” she said. “It’s all my fault. The gate was shut, so at first I thought she’d followed me into the house without my noticing. I called her and looked around before I started getting really worried. But I couldn’t find her.”

      More sobs. This time Hunter did approach her. Awkwardly, he touched her head.

      In moments, she had stood and was crying against his chest.

      Automatically his arms went around her. Even though it didn’t feel natural to have her so close. Especially now.

      His eyes involuntarily darted toward Shauna. She was watching them, a look of compassion on her face. And sadness.

      And pain.

      For Andee, of course. And, in sympathy for him, whether he wanted it or not.

      He had no doubt it felt awkward to her to be in the same room as her onetime lover and his ex-wife. She had made it clear, though, she no longer cared for him. Any more than he still cared for her.

      But he did still care for her…sort of. Nostalgically.

      Even so, he gently pulled away from Margo, his eyes on Shauna. He could see her struggle to hide any emotion. Did she, perhaps, still have some feelings for him—other than to despise him for leaving all those years ago?

      He looked deliberately away from her and into Margo’s eyes. “We need to hear the rest,” he told his ex-wife. Even though he had heard it from her before, on the phone.

      Her story didn’t change. She’d continued looking for Andee, then assumed she had somehow gotten out the gate and started wandering the neighborhood. Margo’s backyard abutted a narrow alley, as did most other houses along her street and the one behind it. She didn’t see anyone there, so she went up one road and down the next, knocked on a few doors. But no one had seen Andee. That was when she had first called Hunter.

      The second time was after she had received a call from the kidnapper.

      “It was a man. He said that if I told anyone besides her father, he’d kill her.” She looked straight at Banger. “I wasn’t to talk to the police. He said I could pay for her safe return and promised he’d be in touch to tell me what to do. And if I didn’t follow his instructions, I’d never see my daughter again. If he saw anything in the media, or one of those Amber alerts, or anything public, it would be all over for Andee.” Tears ran down her cheeks. Her gaze returned to Hunter. “I may have been at fault in the first place, but you brought in all these other people.” She darted another brief, disapproving glance toward Shauna. “We’ve got to do as he says, Hunter.”

      He nodded, then turned to Banger. “Glad you’re here,” he said. “You’ve taken charge of this case, I hope, even though it’s outside your division.”

      Banger’s narrow, solemn head nodded. “That’s right.”

      “Do I dare ask how you’re managing it?”

      “Not if you value your P.I. license,” Banger growled, though a corner of his mouth quirked up as though it attempted a grin without his permission.

      “Okay, then, here’s something I do dare to ask. How about putting a listening device on Margo’s phone?”

      “What do you mean?” His ex sounded horrified.

      “To trace the kidnapper when he calls again,” Banger explained.

      “Don’t you need a warrant or something for that?” she asked.

      “Only if the subject of the wiretap isn’t aware or doesn’t agree,” Banger said. “Do you have