As he was drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, he noticed a pile of mail on the counter that Sam must’ve brought in. Nick flipped through the stack of mostly junk before finding a registered mail envelope Sam had signed for bearing the name of an insurance company. He opened it and sucked in a sharp deep breath when it registered that he was looking at a check for two million dollars. Made out to him. John’s life insurance payout. After staring at the check for several long minutes, he tossed it on the counter with the rest of the mail and reached for his suit coat, not wanting to think about the money just now. He had enough on his mind.

Sam rushed down the ramp from her father’s house, attempting to juggle her cell phone, half a bagel and the bottle of diet cola tucked under her arm. “So we’re no closer than we were last night?” she asked Gonzo.

“We’re scouring this city. Every square inch.” His voice was full of frustration. “No sign of the bastard anywhere.”

“I’ve got that meeting at eight, and then I’ll be out there with you.”

“You don’t need me at the meeting do you? I’d rather stay out here. I’m working a couple of angles on Sinclair, too.”

She slid into the car without dropping the bagel and secured her soda in the cup holder. “No, don’t bother coming in. I’ll call to see where you need me when I’m leaving HQ.”

“Any word on Cruz?”

“I called the hospital an hour ago, and he had a good night. They’re thinking he can go home tomorrow or the next day.”

“That’s good. I’ll see you soon.”

As Sam slid the key into the ignition, the back door to her car slammed shut. She spun around to find Clarence Reese pointing a gun at her.

“Give me the phone,” he growled, “and drive.”

Scanning the empty street, Sam swallowed hard, handed him the phone and reached for her own weapon.

“Don’t even think about it.” The cold metal of Reese’s gun pressed against her neck. “Hand it over.”

Sam gave him the gun.

“Clutch, too.”

Reaching under the cuff of the jeans she had worn to work the streets, she released the second smaller gun strapped to her leg and passed it back to him.

“Now drive. And no funny business.”

Sam cleared the panic from her throat. “Where are we going?”

“Head north. Out of the city.”

She glanced at the clock. Seven forty-five. In fifteen minutes, they’d be looking for her. On the way past Nick’s house, she fixed her eyes on his door, willing him to hear her silent cries for help.

“Is that your senator’s place?” Reese asked.

“Yes,” Sam mumbled.