Marisa looked in time to see Jessica pull out her cell phone and put it on speaker. "This way you can hear his voice." It went straight to voice mail.

Jessica's tense shoulders relaxed.

"It's Rick. You know what to do." Richard Gray's voice sounded so pleasant, even lighthearted. Nothing like the killer Marisa knew him to be.

Jessica took the phone off speaker and lifted it. "It's Jess. Hunter was asking about you. We're thinking about getting out of town for the weekend, but I was hoping you could carve out some time for him next week. Maybe just ice cream or something? Call me when you get a chance."

She ended the call and set the phone on the table. Her hands were trembling, but her voice had been steady as spring rain.

She looked at their faces and attempted a smile. "I take it by the look on your faces that was him."

Marisa couldn't speak for the wave of affection that rose for this woman, and the hope that carried it in like a tsunami. Jessica had been afraid, but she'd helped them anyway, and that one phone call might have made all the difference.

Marisa could only nod.

Nate reached across the table and took Jessica's hand. "Thank you. Even if you can't do anything else, you just gave us our first real advantage. Do you mind giving us that phone number?"

"Of course." Jessica showed Nate the phone, and he jotted the number down.

"Do you know his address?" Nate asked.

"I know where he lives, but I couldn't tell you the address. I can drive by it later—"

"That's okay," Nate said. "We can probably figure it out. If not, we'll call you."

Jessica nodded, looked from one to the other. "I don't know if I can do more. If it were just me, I'd do anything to help you, but I have to protect my son."

Marisa took Jessica's other hand. "I know exactly how you feel."

Chapter 23

RICK HEFTED THE LITTLE girl over his shoulder while he unlocked the door to the crappy apartment Leslie had rented. He'd given her a hard time about it. Could she have found more of a dump? But she reasoned that nobody who suspected either one of them would frequent that part of town nor live in that kind of building. She was right. Besides, it wasn't home, just headquarters.

He'd considered following the truck after Nate and Marisa left his mother's house, but when he put the car in drive, the kid woke up, freaked out in the trunk. Apparently, she was scared of the dark.

He'd been afraid of the dark when he was little. He could hardly blame her. He headed for the apartment, content in knowing he could find Nate and Marisa again if he needed to.