Just a few more miles and the girl would be secured.
And this annoying aberration in her well-run program would be erased.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Sara leaned forward and pointed at a sign ahead. “That’s it. Tapo Canyon Road. Take that exit and go right.”
Richard eased the car into the slow lane.
According to Logan’s last conversation with Ruth, Dr. Paskota had been delayed as she passed through downtown, so they had actually arrived in Simi Valley first with a five-to-ten-minute lead. He hoped to God that was enough.
Once they were off the freeway, Sara guided them to another street that took them up the gentle slope of a hill and past a middle school. After that, they zigzagged through a well-kept, middle-class neighborhood until they reached Summit Avenue.
“This is it,” Sara said. “About halfway down and on the left.”
As Richard slowed the car, Logan’s phone beeped with a message from Ruth.
E
XITING
T
APO
C
ANYON
“They’re only a few minutes behind us,” Logan said.
“I thought we had more than that,” Sara said.
He did, too. “We don’t.”
“Which one?” Richard asked.
Sara turned back around, studied the homes, then pointed. “There. That one.”
As they neared, Richard made like he was going to pull into the driveway.
“Don’t,” Logan said. “If they see your car parked there, they’ll ask Alan if it belongs. Even if he lies and says yes, they’ll see through him.”
Richard looked at him in the mirror, unconvinced, but Diana nodded.
“On the street,” she ordered.
Her brother rolled his eyes, but did as she said.
As they climbed out of the car, Sara asked, “What if they don’t open the door?”
“They will,” Logan said.
“But what if they won’t?”
“It’s not going to be an issue.”
They crossed to the other side, and walked up to the porch. Sara was closest to the door, while Logan stayed in back. She stood there, doing nothing.
“Sara, you’re wasting time we don’t have,” Logan said.
She nodded, hesitated a second longer, then knocked.
They could hear footsteps on the other side, and the porch light flicked on. The door, however, remained closed. The dim light that had been visible through the peephole turned black.
There was nothing for a moment, then, “What do you want?”
“Rachel, please open the door,” Sara said.
“You can’t just come in here and take her.”
“That’s not why I’m here. Please, just let me in.”
“Who are those people with you?”
Sara glanced behind her. “My sister and brother, and-”
“Your what? Since when do you have a sister and brother?”
“I’m sorry. I never talked about them, but-”
“There is no way I’m letting you in.”
Logan knew she meant it. “Keep her talking,” he whispered. He moved off to the left, along the front of the house.
Behind him, the conversation faded as he slipped around the corner into the side yard. Halfway down was a cinder-block fence walling off the back. He didn’t even bother trying the wooden gate built into it. He simply scaled the fence and hopped down on the other side.
The section of the yard he landed in had been set up as a dog pen. There was a wire fence continuing out from where the house ended, making a squared-off area of about ten feet by ten feet. The dog it was meant for was nowhere to be seen.
Logan passed through the open gate, prepared for the animal appearing at any second, but when he peeked into the main part of the backyard, he was happy to see it was unoccupied. The dog must have been inside for the night.
Like most California homes, there was a sliding glass door, this one opening onto a small brick patio. The screen was closed, but the door was open a few feet, letting in the pleasant evening air.
Logan stopped at the edge of the door and listened. Rachel was saying something, but it didn’t sound like she was talking to Sara.
Then a male voice said, “Just ignore her. She’ll go away.”
Kurt the husband, Logan figured.
“I’m going to call Alan.”
“He’s going to tell you the same thing.”
Logan chanced a look. Just inside was a brightly lit family room. The TV was on, and there was a bowl of chips on a table in front of the couch. A fat, old golden Lab lay sleeping on the sofa. Beyond the room, Logan could see a portion of the entryway at the far side of the house. While the sister was hidden from view, the back of the man was visible. Kurt was short, maybe five six or five seven, but he carried the weight of a man a foot taller.
Logan frowned. He wished he could do this a different way, but there wasn’t time. He pulled out his gun, and quietly slid open the screen. The dog didn’t even stir.
He crossed through the family room, and stopped ten feet behind Rachel and Kurt.
Leaving the gun at his side, but visible, he said, “Open the door, please.”
For half a second, he thought he’d given the man a heart attack. While both of them had turned around in surprise, Kurt had actually grabbed his chest and fallen against the wall with a thud.
“What do you want?” he said. “How did you-”
“I want you to open the door,” Logan replied.
As Rachel fumbled with the lock, Logan heard the dog roll off the couch and walk slowly into the foray.
“Get in!” Logan told Sara and the others the moment he saw them.
They rushed in. As soon as the door was closed again, the dog began roaming between the visitors, sniffing their hand.
“Reggie, don’t do that,” Kurt said.
The dog glanced at him, and continued what it was doing.
“No, Reggie. Go lie down.”
Reggie ignored him.
Logan focused on Rachel. “Where’s Emily?”
She shot an accusing glance at Sara. “You did come to take her.”
“No. We came to save her, and you,” Sara said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s something we’ll have to discuss later,” Logan said. “Where’s Emily?”
Rachel shook her head. “You can’t have her.”
“If you stay here even a few minutes longer, there’s a good chance you’re going to die,” Logan said.
Both Rachel and Kurt couldn’t help but look at his gun.
CHAPTER SEVENTY — ONE
“I’m not going to kill you,” Logan said.
Sara wasn’t about to stand there any longer. She raced toward the hallway.
“Hey!” Rachel called out. “You leave her alone.”
Sara heard someone running after her. She glanced over her shoulder, thinking it might be Rachel trying to stop her, but it was Diana.
“Hurry,” her sister said.
Rachel and Kurt’s house was a single story with three bedrooms. They had two sons, both away at college, so Sara guessed Emily would be using one of their rooms. The first was Troy’s, but it was empty. The second was Cory’s.
Sara stopped in the doorway, frozen in place by the sight of the small form sleeping on the bed.
Emily.
She had almost convinced herself she’d never see her daughter again, but there she was, peacefully asleep. Sara could even hear her breathe. It was like music.
“Did you find her?” Diana asked, stopping behind her.
Sara pulled herself out of her trance and raced into the room. She pulled back the covers, put her arms under her daughter, and lifted Emily from the bed. The girl rolled against Sara’s chest, then seemed to realize something was different.
Her eyelids fluttered, and opened. She stared at her mother for a full second. Then her eyes grew wider than Sara had ever seen them, and she threw open her arms and wrapped them around Sara’s neck.