Amarok hoped the warrant would come through so he could search the apartment while Lewis dealt with the service provider for Emmett’s cell phone. Once they had his cell phone records, they should be able to locate Emmett whether he was in Minnesota or Alaska or anywhere else in the world.

How closely they could pinpoint his whereabouts depended on two factors, however. Whether his phone was on or off—on made it easier. And how many towers it had communicated with recently. Three towers allowed for triangulation, which would place the phone inside a two-mile radius. If that turned out to be in Alaska, Amarok would definitely want to be there, which was why he’d booked a flight out first thing in the morning.

Before he had to catch that plane and while he was waiting for the warrant, he planned to visit Beacon Point Mental Hospital to see Bishop’s old room and talk to the staff there himself, just in case Lewis had missed something.

Let me know the second that warrant comes through, he wrote to Lewis. I’m checking out of the motel now.

Lewis had asked when he was heading back to Alaska, but Amarok hadn’t answered that question. Lewis wouldn’t be happy to hear he was going to Beacon Point—redoing work that had already been done—but if Amarok was here in town, he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to verify anything and everything he could.

He’d just checked out and put his bag in the trunk when his cell phone rang. Although he was hoping it was Lewis letting him know they now had what they needed, he recognized the number as belonging to someone else.

His father.

Amarok hesitated. He didn’t really have time to talk right now. His entire focus was on saving Evelyn and their baby. It was all he could think about. But he figured he’d just be driving. He could give Hank a few minutes without it costing him anything.

“What’s up?” he asked after he started the engine and the Bluetooth picked up.

“Your mother’s called me twice in the past twenty-four hours.”

He punched the Reverse button on the gearshift console but kept his foot on the brake pedal. “After thirty years you’ve heard from her twice in the same day?”

“I spoke to her one other time, when I was trying to get you to go to her fiftieth birthday shindig, remember?”

“Still. It must’ve been a shock to hear her voice.”

“It was.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry?” Hank asked.

“Because I’m sure it was our last telephone conversation that prompted her to reach out to you.”

“That’s probably true.”

Amarok backed out of the parking space. “Let me guess—she wants you to absolve her of any guilt?”

“Didn’t say that, but … yes. Essentially, she’d like to be forgiven.”

“You’re not going to forgive her, though, are you?”

“I already have,” he replied. “And I hope you’ll do the same.”

Amarok stomped on the brake. “After what she did?”