"The soccer coach. Remember. I asked if he was the father? And she laughed and said no, he was her son's soccer coach. It was Richard Gray."

He hadn't looked at the photograph at Jessica's, but the man had seemed familiar to him, too. "You're sure?"

"We have to ask Jessica, but I'm almost positive. Call her."

"Wait a second. Let's think this through. What if she's in on it?"

Marisa excitement waned. What if she was? "But would she have a photograph of him in her living room if they were doing something illegal? You saw her face when I asked about him. She wasn't at all nervous."

He nodded as if he agreed. "We should call Garrison, see what he thinks."

"No." Marisa had been thinking a lot about Garrison since they'd left him that morning. "He's a good guy, and he's been really helpful, but his loyalties lie with the FBI. I told the kidnapper no cops, and I'm not about to let Garrison get the feds involved."

"But maybe—"

"She's my daughter, Nate. If you don't want to help me—"

"I didn't say that." He blew out a frustrated breath. "I just don't want to misstep here, and I think Garrison could help us."

He was right, of course. Garrison could help them. He had a lot more experience than either of them did. Why didn't she want to call him? He'd done nothing but help. But he'd also told them he'd have to get the feds involved soon. And she couldn't risk that. "I know he wants to help, but the last time the FBI got involved in my life, I had to flee to Mexico. They were wrong about everything. And I'm not saying they would be again. But I just... I don't trust them to make Ana a priority."

"They would, though."

"Maybe. But—"

"Okay. She's your daughter. We do what you want. We can always bring Garrison in later."

She nodded as if she agreed. "Should we go straight to White Plains?"

"Let's call Jessica. If she agrees to see us, if she's cooperative, that'll tell us a lot." He pulled out his notebook and flipped through it until he found the numbers and dialed. A moment later, her voicemail picked up.

Nate left a message.

"What if she doesn't call back?"

He put the car in drive. "We'll give it an hour, then we'll drive up there. Okay?"

An hour was a long time to wait. What would happen to Ana in the next hour? "Maybe we should just—"

"Eat. I'm starving."

"But—"

"And you have to be, too. It's been hours since breakfast."

She'd left her breakfast in the grass at the park.

"Greek food? I know you love it."

She sighed. "Fine. As long as it doesn't take too long."

"Honey, you're in good hands."