“What are gaming devices?” he asked her, as uniformed officers and forensic techs poured into his house. Across the street, klieg lights were firing up as reporters caught the action and geared up for a fresh round of photo ops.

“Xbox, Gameboys, PlayStation 2, Wii system, etc., etc.”

“Ree has a Leapster,” he offered. “If you want my advice, the Cars game is better than the Disney Princess cartridge, but, of course, the evidence techs can judge for themselves.”

D.D. regarded him coolly. “The warrant gives us permission to seize all electronics we deem necessary, sir. So yes, we will judge for ourselves.”

The “sir” rankled him, but he let it go. “Ree’s asleep,” he found himself saying. “She’s had a very long day. If you could ask the officers to please keep things quiet …”

He strove for politeness, though maybe his voice hitched a little at the end. He’d had a long day, too, which was about to become a long night.

“We’re professionals,” the sergeant informed him stiffly. “We’re not gonna ransack your house. We’re going to take it apart piece by piece very politely.”

D.D. motioned a uniformed officer over. Officer Anzaldi, it appeared, had drawn the short straw and would be serving as Jason’s babysitter for the evening. The officer led him to the family room, where Jason took a seat on the love seat, much as he had done the day before. Except no Ree this time. No tiny warm body snuggled against him, needing him, grounding him, keeping him from screaming from the frustration of it all.

So Jason closed his eyes, put his hands behind his head, and went to sleep.

When he opened his eyes, forty-five minutes had passed and Sergeant D.D. Warren was staring down at him in quiet fury.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Resting.”

“Resting? Just like that? Your wife is missing, so you’re taking a nap?”

“It’s not like I’m going to find her while I’m being confined to a love seat, is it?”

D.D. appeared disgusted. “There is something seriously wrong with you.”

He shrugged. “Ask a SWAT guy sometime. What do you do once you’ve been activated but not yet deployed? You sleep. So when the time comes, you’re ready to go.”

“That’s how you view this? You’re some elite warrior who’s been activated, but not deployed?” She sounded dubious.

“My family is in crisis, and all I can do is stay with my daughter. Activated, but not deployed.”

“You could leave her with Grandpa.” The sergeant said the words neutrally, but there was a gleam in her eye. So she’d heard. Of course she’d heard. Apparently, all uniformed officers did these days was blab every detail of his life to Sergeant Warren.

“No thank you,” he said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t like linen suits.”