“Yes,” she said. “That ‘family matter.’ But that’s not as important as getting those toys back. We had a super Christmas set up for those kids, and I. don’t want it going down the tubes. I want those toys back, Raymond, and dammit—get me the police commissioner’s number. I’m going to call him myself. I’m going to call him every day until those toys are back.”

“I’ll look it up right now,” he said, and was gone, closing the door behind him.

Alicia folded her arms on the scarred top of her beat-up old desk and dropped her forehead onto them. Everything seemed to be spinning out of control. She felt so helpless, so damn impotent. Systems… always these huge, complex, lumbering systems to deal with.

The Center’s toys were gone. She’d have to depend on the police to get them back. But they had their own agenda, their own higher priorities, and so she’d have to wait until they got around to hers, if they ever did. She could call the commissioner until she wore out the buttons on her phone, but he’d probably never take the call.

And the will had said the house was hers, but Thomas was using the system’s labyrinth to keep it from her. On her own, Alicia would have been swallowed up by his legal pit bulls, so she’d been forced to hire someone to fend them off.

Leo… oh, God, poor Leo. She could still hear the blast, see the flames. Nothing had been left of him after that explosion.

A cold sick dread seeped through her. When’s my turn?

If I keep pushing Thomas and whoever’s backing him, will I be next?

She pounded her fist on the desk. Damn them!

She wanted one of those big samurai blades—a dai-katana—to cut right to the heart of—

“Excuse me.”

Alicia looked up. One of the volunteers, a pretty blonde in her early thirties, stood halfway through the doorway, looking at her.

“I knocked but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

Alicia straightened and shook back her hair. She put on her professional face.

“Sorry. I was a million miles away, dreaming about chasing down the rats who stole those presents.”

The woman slipped her svelte body the rest of the way through and shut the door behind her. Alicia wished she had a body like that.

She’d seen her around a lot. Sometimes she brought her daughter with her—cute little girl, maybe seven or eight. What were their names?

“You won’t have to go a million miles to find them,” the woman said. “One or two should cover it.”

“You’re probably right,” Alicia said.

Her name… her name… what was her name?

Got it. “Gia, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “Gia DiLauro.”

A dazzling smile. Alicia wished she had a smile like that. And Gia… what a great name. Alicia wished—

Enough.

“Yes, you and your daughter…”

“Vicky.”

“Right. Vicky. You donate a lot of time here.”

Gia shrugged. “Can’t think of a place that needs it more.”