He waited thirty seconds, then tried the knob. It was locked. His irritation grew. Did she think she could frustrate him so easily? He went into his bedroom, opened a drawer and pulled out the long, skinny pick that would pop the lock.

Only when he opened her bedroom door, she wasn’t lying on her bed, glaring at him. She wasn’t anywhere. The window was open, the screen on the ground and his daughter was gone.

seven

“You’re distracted,” Freddy said conversationally. “We’re talking about buying a business. You always like that. What’s up?”

A question Thaddeus couldn’t answer. No, scratch that. A question he didn’t want to answer.

They were in his office on the twentieth floor, with a north-facing view. He could see much of Bellevue and Kirkland beyond. To the west was North Seattle and to the northeast, on a clear day, Mount Baker.

Several files lay open on the large conference table. There were reports, sales projections and all the details that usually captured his interest, but today he couldn’t get excited about buying an underfunded software company with potential.

He got up to pour himself more coffee, but instead crossed to the window where he stared out at the horizon.

“I met someone.”

Freddy got up and joined him at the floor-to-ceiling window. “You sound more cautious than excited. Who is she? Where’d you meet?” His friend eyed him. “Not in a bar. You have terrible luck with women in bars.”

Thaddeus raised his eyebrows. “I always have good luck with women in bars.”

“No. You always get laid, but it never goes anywhere. There’s a difference.”

Freddy had a point. “I didn’t meet her in a bar. She’s a friend of Dagmar’s.” At Freddy’s expression of surprise, he added, “She’s thirty-four.”

“Thank God. Because if you start dating some woman in her seventies, I’m going to take you to the doctor. So, who is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s a widow. Her husband was in the military. I assume he was killed in the line of duty.”

He could ask his aunt for details, but that would be giving Dagmar way more power than he wanted her to have.

He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “We were at Dagmar’s. We were supposed to have dinner.”

“It was a setup?”

He nodded. “She didn’t tell me until I got there. I ended up not staying long. Our meeting didn’t go well.”

Freddy shook his head. “So why are we talking about her?”

“Because there was something about her.” At least he believed there had been. He’d thought about her the whole drive home and for the next couple of days. He was still thinking about her. There’d been chemistry and Dagmar liked her, which was about the best reference possible.

“She was nervous,” he said. “More than nervous. She was scared.”

“Of you?”

“Some. Or maybe it was the situation.”

“She sounds like a real catch,” Freddy muttered sarcastically. “Don’t you want someone who likes you?”