As a police officer, he understood how critical the first few hours were, but the fear flooding his body was quickly robbing him of strength and clarity when he needed them most. His feet felt like they were encased in concrete and his chest constricted, making it difficult to breathe.

Makita licked his hand in sympathy and followed as he somehow forced his legs to carry him back to the truck. The woman who’d been about to become his wife and the mother of his child was counting on him. He could be all she had as far as help. But he didn’t have anything to go on. He’d checked the security video on his computer—thanks to the Internet, he’d been able to install a camera at his front door for a fairly modest price—but it showed only the stoop and Evelyn hadn’t made it that far. She never even entered the frame. He’d also called everyone he could think of in town. No one could say where she was. No one had seen anything suspicious or spotted any strangers in the area.

So where did that leave him?

Flipping on his strobe lights and siren, he ordered Makita to sit still in the seat so he couldn’t get hurt prancing around as he tore out of his own driveway and raced over to Hanover House. Fortunately, his strength began to return as a white-hot anger welled up, overcoming the hormones that had swamped him at first. Once that happened, he felt like he could tear apart the person who’d taken Evelyn with his bare hands—if only he knew who to blame.

There had to have been something to precipitate this, he told himself. And he was going to find out what it was. He wouldn’t lose the woman he loved, not after everything they’d survived so far, especially when she was carrying their child! That she’d been able to conceive despite the skepticism of her doctor had been a miracle, a source of joy and hope to them both. He wouldn’t allow anyone to rob them of that.

His gut twisted as he remembered touching her belly after they made love last night. Their child had been moving, and she’d been eager for him to feel it. Usually when she tried to show him, he couldn’t discern anything. At only six months along, the baby wasn’t big enough to kick very hard.

But last night had been different. The faint sensation that had registered on his palm was his first contact with their child, and it had affected him deeply, made the fact that he was going to be a father real in a way he’d been afraid to hope for in the first trimester and even after. The doctor had gone over the risks of this particular pregnancy with them both. Evelyn would be turning forty this year. Her age, in conjunction with what her body had been through when she was tortured, made miscarriage more of a possibility than it would be otherwise. Amarok had been trying to maintain some emotional distance, so he wouldn’t be devastated and could help her through the heartbreaking ordeal, should that happen.