Lullabies and Lies - By Mallory Kane Page 0,12

on for a long time by telling her the child was safe.

As if reading his mind, Carver said, “If they took the baby just to keep Ms. Loveless quiet about something…”

Griff nodded grimly. “There’s no guarantee the child survived the first night. Emily may already be dead.”

“WHAT’S THE MATTER?” Lillian jumped to her feet behind Loveless Inc.’s reception desk the moment Sunny opened the front door. With a huge effort, Sunny kept her face composed, acutely conscious of the police officer who was trying to blend with the shadows on the west side of the foyer, just a few feet from where they stood.

“Nothing.” Sunny swallowed. “How are the files coming?”

Lillian’s sharp brown eyes assessed her. “I’m about half finished reviewing our backup disks, trying to recreate the files. Just a little while ago, the police finally brought back copies of the paper files that weren’t stolen. They’re still combing through the originals.”

“Nice to know it took having my daughter kidnapped to make them pay attention to the break-in.”

Lil’s thin lips curled upward. “It’s how they have to work, hon. They concentrate on the dangerous cases, and get to the others when they can.”

Sunny bit her trembling lip. “I know, but if I’d made a bigger fuss about the break-in, maybe Emily wouldn’t have been taken.”

“Don’t do that to yourself. The computer technician told me they’d concluded that the thief was after information. Otherwise why take the paper files and wipe the hard drive? They could easily have walked out with the entire computer.”

“Wow, that’s brilliant. And it’s exactly what I told the officers the night of the break-in.” Anger pushed away Sunny’s haze of panic.

“You need some tea. Come on.” Lillian held out her hand.

Sunny stepped around the desk and let her next-door neighbor lead her through the archway into the living room, and on into the kitchen. Two years ago, when Sunny had moved into this house and started her detective agency, Lillian had appointed herself Sunny’s assistant. She claimed that since she’d retired from her job as an IRS investigator, she wasn’t getting any “action,” as she’d put it.

The afternoon sun shining through the trees drew changing patterns on the tile floor as Sunny slipped into a chair. From where she sat, the polished wood of Emily’s high chair gleamed cheerily.

She propped her elbows on the wooden table and put her face in her hands.

“I know something else has happened,” Lillian said in a low voice as she set a cup of tea in front of Sunny. “Did the FBI agent have any news?”

“No.” Sunny pushed her fingers through her hair. Then, using a napkin, she fished the note from her pocket and spread it on the table.

Lillian put a hand to her throat. “Oh, my God, a second note?”

“Read it,” Sunny said, hunching her stiff shoulders.

Lillian did, then looked up, her lined face pale. “Where did you find this?”

“On the windshield of my car. Right there in the police parking lot in broad daylight. He knew I was talking to the police. He surely knows the FBI has been called in.” She wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “Why won’t he tell me what he wants?”

Lillian read the words aloud.

“Emily is still alive, for now. But you’re spending too much time with the police. Someone you know will be hurt. You’d better point the investigation in a different direction, or next time, it will be someone you love. Remember, I’m watching you.”

She looked up.

Sunny met her gaze. “I was afraid they’d hurt you.”

“Don’t you worry about me. I can take care of myself. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve from my IRS investigator days. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Sunny sent her friend a weary smile. “It was the luckiest day of my life when I moved next door to you.”

Lillian smiled back at her, but her smile faded quickly. “Sunny, you have to show the police the notes.”

“What? How can I? This is the second time this monster has threatened to kill Emily. Now he’s threatening to hurt people I know. He knows every move I make. And so far I haven’t told the police anything. If I turn over the notes now—”

“The police and the FBI are used to dealing with kidnappers. They have resources I can’t tap into. Their DNA index—CODIS. And AFIS, the fingerprint database. I know you’re trying to be careful with the evidence, but what good is preserving it if you’re not going to give it to

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