"Thanks, but I can't accept."
Will's eyebrows rose. He settled back with a faint grimace, regretting lost leverage or just upset at not getting his way. "Why don't you fill us in on your progress?"
Tim caught them up. Emma wept quietly for a few moments when he related the likelihood that Leah had moved into the cult home. Will let her cry on his chest as Tim finished.
"She needed more from me." Emma blew her nose into Will's handkerchief. "After her father died, I tried to be both parents -too indulgent, then too restrictive. For the past three months, I've replayed in my head everything we might have done differently. Sending her off to camp crying, and -"
"Emma," Will said gently, "you're making yourself crazy."
Because he would have preferred to address Leah's current position, Tim found Emma's self-flagellation to be wearing. It hit him that her reaction held up an unflattering mirror to his own manner of grieving.
Emma's exhale puffed out her cheeks. "I just wish I knew what could drive her to do something this foolish."
"We can address that once she's in our hands," Tim said. "Right now we need to focus on getting her back."
"How old is the baby?" Dray asked.
"Seven months."
Will said, "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
Dray looked at him squarely. "Mrs. Henning is speculating about Leah's motivations. Leah's interest in the cult would seem to have followed the baby's arrival."
Will threw a glance at Tim. "What's the plan from here?"
"I'm hoping this is Leah's cult, but I'm still going off guesswork at this point. If she's there, I'll see if I can isolate her and persuade her to come with me. If she's not, I'll pump the others for information, get some names and leads."
"You'll find out who the bastard leader is. Can't you go after him? Cut the head off the beast?"
"It's not the quickest route, and time is of the essence. Plus, I'm not tasked with going after the entire cult. Just with finding your daughter."
Crunching ice, Will seemed to wrestle with his appetite for revenge. Finally he said, "Just get her home so we can take things from there."
Tim thought of Rooch Banner, Will's impatient rustling, the well-scrubbed tile of the kitchen. Not the warmest home to return to.
"Kidnapping our own daughter," Emma said tearily. "What has this come to?"
"I'm not kidnapping her," Tim said. "I'm taking her into custody. Think of it as a covert arrest."
Dray's head cocked. "On what grounds?"
"Grand theft auto."
"Pretty thin for a federal arrest. Plus, then what? You gonna charge her? Out of the cult and into jail? Sounds like a brainchild hatched in our fine federal bureaucracy, all right."
"We don't have to charge her, Dray."
"So just arrest her on trumped-up charges and violate her rights."
Tim took a deep breath, letting the mood in the room settle. "I'm hoping to come across something stronger. Evidence of Leah's being in imminent danger" – at this, Emma emitted a choked little sob – "or a 5150, danger to self."
"You can't make that determination," Dray said. "What, are you gonna smuggle in a psychiatric-evaluation team under your trench coat?"
Emma studied her through bleary red eyes. "How about abuse charges?"
"Adult abuse isn't illegal."
"What do you mean?"
"There's no adult-abuse statute. If there was, we'd have to run out and arrest anyone who's ever tried S amp;M. Whatever Leah's doing, it sounds like it's consensual. We've got assault and battery, but those require a victim pressing charges, which doesn't sound likely in this case." Dray shot Tim a glance. "This isn't news to you – you know how shitty conviction rates are when battered women back down."
Will smacked his palm on his knee. "So what do you propose? We just leave her in this cult?"
"Yes. I understand you're frustrated that you can't persuade her to leave, but she's an adult. Just because you have money doesn't give you the right to use other means to remove her." Dray moved her focus to her husband. "Come on, Tim. Let's call it like it is. I shouldn't have to remind you all that nothing illegal has taken place here." She gestured at Will with her glass. "There's a reason you're not sending Roach -"
"Rooch."
"- to do your bidding. There's a reason Tannino's using a freelancer for the job, and there's a reason he's using my husband." She softened her voice. "You're making some moves to get your daughter safe. Christ, with what we've been through, I can certainly relate. I'm not a saint, I'm not a priss, and I'm not a DA. I'm just recommending we all stay very aware of the game we're playing here. If my husband extracts your daughter, his ass is the one on the line when the spin doctors scrub in."
"That's not going to happen. Whatever you do, you won't have any legal problems. That I can assure you."
Dray was on her feet. "With all due respect, Mr. Henning, you can't make that promise." She set her half-full glass on the bar and left the room.
Will chuckled. "No shrinking violet, that one."
"No, sir."
"So how about the P.O. box? You make any progress with the inspector?"
"Let's just say he gave new meaning to the term 'going postal.' "
Will's hearty laugh filled the room.
"I'd like to implement some small, sustainable disguise elements, on the off chance someone in the cult recognizes me from the news footage last year," Tim said. "We usually pull a professional from the movie studios, but with the time frame -"
Will brightened. "I'll have the hottest new makeup-and-hair guy in town at your house first thing tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock okay?" He killed his vodka, plunked the glass on a side table. "When all this is through, I'll get you some Lakers tickets. On the floor. Right by Jack." He waited for Tim to stand. "Rooch will see you out."
Rooch had materialized above the steps, one hand clasping the other at the wrist. Tim paused on his way out, then turned back to Will. "Give me your watch."
"Nice line reading. I'll call you when we start casting."
"The Service issues replicas. The guys I'm swimming with might know the difference."
Though Emma made a displeased face, Will slid the Cartier off his wrist and tossed it to Tim. "That's a thirty-thousand-dollar watch. Keep your eye on it."
"I'll be sure to."
Rooch didn't speak to Tim on the long walk out.
Dray was sitting in the passenger seat. She winked at him when he got in. "I don't know about these freelance gigs, Timothy. Your track record is for shit."
Tim pulled out and drove a few blocks. "You're right. What you said in there."
They passed out of the community under a wood arch proclaiming
ADIOS AMIGOS.
"Their home should be beautiful, but it just feels cold and antiseptic. They want the dog on the couch, off the couch, in the room, out of the room – imagine how'd they'd be as parents." Dray let her breath out sharply through her teeth. "Emma's anxiety runs that house. It runs Will, too. Families portion out emotion – I'd say her whining wouldn't leave much room for a daughter to have normal growing-up difficulties. That would undermine Mother's martyrdom." Dray spoke bitterly – her own mother had enjoyed a familial monopoly on suffering.
"I'd guess Leah was an inconvenience to them."
"I'd bet her job was to be quiet, easy, and invisible. And I'd bet she didn't easily fit the bill."
The traffic had lightened significantly. As they drove north, Tim reflected on his visit with his father. He'd learned at a young age that opening up had its costs – it left too much of himself to protect. And so he'd learned to seek sustenance elsewhere, to generate it from within, to remain tightly and serenely wound into himself.