Beatrix twists around, her expression strangely calm as she stares out the front windows. The lawn is lit up like a laser show, swooping white arcs in a disco of red and blue. Police cars careening up the drive.

The two men bolt for the back.

“Let’s go,” one of them calls over his shoulder. “We gotta hustle.”

“Tell Cam we’re going for Baxter.”

I turn into a sudden light, white and blinding. Two giant spotlights pressed into the front-door glass, twin suns that ignite our skin, surrounding us with light brighter than day. Beatrix shades her eyes with an arm, but I just close mine. My hands are filled with the gun and a fistful of my daughter, and no way in hell I’m letting either of them go, even though I am all too aware of the danger. A loaded weapon, an obvious threat. I hold it in a loose fist by my side.

Shouts bombard us through the doors.

Open the door!

Police!

GUN.

Freeze don’t move don’t move.

The windows on the front door explode, a hailstorm of glass shattering on the foyer tiles, skipping across the marble to the hardwood. I open my eyes at a sound I know instinctively, a hand reaching inside to flip the dead bolt. Big black silhouettes stomp inside, crowding around us, barking questions. One of them pries the gun from my fingers.

Ma’am, are you okay?

Is your daughter hurt?

Is either one of you injured?

I reach for the first officer I see. “My son. He’s in the house across the street. He’s in danger.”

J A D E

7:14 p.m.

Beatrix and I stand on Tanya’s front lawn, shoulder to shoulder with a female cop whose orders were to tackle me if I moved. I wanted to go in, of course I did. I told them I knew the layout of the house, could point out the rooms where Baxter might be, but the cops wouldn’t hear of it, so here I stand, stiff with terror, staring at Tanya’s front door and praying.

That Baxter is inside.

That he’s alive.

That Tanya hasn’t hurt a hair on his body.

“What’s taking so long?” Beatrix says. “Why can’t they find him?”

I clutch her hand and try not to scream. I don’t think Tanya would hurt Bax or kidnap him, but what do I know? I’ve been wrong, so wrong about her. I stare at the house and think surely it can’t be much longer.