that he seemed so matter-of-fact, so calm, while she felt as if she were on a giant roller coaster barreling down an incline. Dakota jerked her hand free just as he released his hold. Grabbing the phone with both hands, she cried, “Hello?” breathlessly.
There was a slight delay before a metallic voice asked, “Is this Della Armstrong?”
“Dakota,” she corrected heatedly. Something was wrong. They knew her name. She didn’t doubt that they knew everything about her. Was this supposed to be some kind of cryptic put-down?
“Sorry,” the voice on the other end of the line said cheerfully. “Ms. Armstrong, this is Phil Henderson from Dayton Telemarketing. We’re calling people in your neighborhood tonight to—”
She slammed down the receiver, swallowing a curse as angry tears filled her eyes. “Of all the stupid times to call…”
He heard the barely suppressed hysteria in her voice, knew where it could lead if unleashed. “Easy,” Rusty cautioned.
Her temper exploded. “Easy, right. You can take it easy,” she lashed out. “It’s not your son who was stolen out of his crib.”
She had every right to think that he didn’t understand, but he did. More than she could ever know. He understood anguish. And hated it. “We’ll find him.”
“How do I know that?” she demanded hotly. “How do I know that Vinny won’t be the blot on your sterling record? The one who you couldn’t get back.” She bit back a sob. “You have no right, no right to make promises you can’t keep.”
He took hold of her shoulders. She struggled to pull away but this time he wouldn’t let her. This time, he held her fast. “Look at me.”
Defiant, she refused to obey. She’d always resented being told what to do.
“Why?”
“Look at me,” he repeated, measuring out each word. His tone surprised her. When she reluctantly did what he wanted, Rusty said in a firm voice, “Your son isn’t going to be an exception. We are going to find him. You have to believe that.”
She wanted to. He had no idea how much she wanted to. But she knew the odds, knew what he was up against even if he didn’t. How could he?
Desperation made her cynical. “You and this boss of yours and your sister, the ex-FBI agent.”
He refused to let her bait him, even though he sensed that she was after an argument, that a verbal fight might somehow alleviate the tension holding her prisoner. It wasn’t in his nature to argue.
“There are more people working at the agency now,” he assured her. “My brother—”
She didn’t let him finish. Disgust came into her eyes. “What is this, a family affair?”
“In a way.” In some ways, they were closer than some families. They agonized over each other’s cases, shared each other’s successes. “My brother was kidnapped as a boy, so I kind of know what you’re going through. The others at the agency all have had close experiences with kidnap victims and their families. Nobody thinks of this as just another job, or any of the kids we look for as just statistics.” This wasn’t the time to go into any of that. He’d just wanted to reassure her a little. “Now, are you up to giving me some information, or do you want me to call someone to stay with you tonight and we’ll talk in the morning at the agency?”
Morning. A million light-years from now. Where would Vinny be in the morning? Would he be calling for her? Would he be afraid? Or would they begin brainwashing him, making him forget her? How long did a two-year-old’s memory last?
She was becoming aware of a numbness settling in. One that separated her from her body and her anguish, making things seem surreal. It crept slowly up her limbs. Maybe it was all a nightmare, a horrible, horrible nightmare. That was it, a nightmare. She’d lived in fear of this happening for two years, maybe it had just surfaced in a dream to haunt her.
“There’s no one to call,” she told him dully. There would have been if this had been her old life. There were people she could turn to. But not here. There was no one here.
Rusty thought of calling his sister, or Savannah, who’d come to work for the agency after Sam had recovered her daughter.
Elizabeth, another detective at the agency, might even be more suited to dealing with this woman, he realized, because of her pronounced sensitivity, but then he remembered that she was away on a case. Still, the woman needed someone to remain with her.
“If you want, I can—”
The dullness abated for a moment as alarms went off within her. She knew it. He was going to say he’d make the sacrifice and stay the night with her. He might be sweet-sounding, but in the end, all men were the same. They all had only one goal.
“No,” she snapped. “You can’t.”
She was a grown woman. Granted, she was a woman in need, but he wasn’t going to argue with her about staying with her. Maybe she would do better on her own. Everybody needed space at times.
“All right.” He started for the door. “You know where to find me if you need me. I’ll be upstairs after I look around.”
She didn’t understand. Her brain was becoming dull again, giving in to the numbness that was overtaking her. “You already looked around.”
“That was just a fast scan, to see if there was anyone around. This time it’ll be slower.” Clues could be left in the oddest places and people always slipped up somewhere. “You never know what you can find.”
The people she was up against were professionals. They made it their life’s work to not make mistakes. If the Boy Scout thought otherwise, he was wrong. Dakota began to say something, but the words somehow vanished from her lips.
As did the rest of the room less than a second after that.
Rusty caught her just in time to keep her from hitting the floor.
“Maybe you’re not as tough as you think you are,” he commented under his breath as he scooped her into his arms. Relaxed, the young woman’s features lost their edginess. They were soft and she looked a lot younger. A lot more innocent.
As he looked at her, Rusty felt something within him stir and banked it down without examination. This wasn’t the time or the place. She was a client even though she hadn’t actually asked to retain his services. In any event, he couldn’t think of her in any different terms until her situation was resolved.
Looking around, he decided to put her in her own bed rather than on the sofa. Entering the room, he made his way over to the bed and placed her on top of the comforter. He took one end of it and placed it over her. There was a chill in the air and he didn’t want it bringing her around. She could do with a little rest. With any luck, she’d sleep until morning.
In the meantime, he had some work to do.
There was something heavy on her chest, pressing down hard, making it difficult for her to breathe.
As she struggled to rise above the haze encasing her, Dakota slowly realized that the heavy weight wasn’t on her chest, it
