THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

and I printed bad unfocused pictures and sent them to myself.”
    Riley put her arm around Kasey and they shared a laugh. The first one in a long time and Kasey wasn’t sure if the tears were from how good it felt to laugh, or how anxious she felt about Jake at the moment.
    Kasey’s cell phone rang.
    Riley reached for it. “Want me to get it?”
    “Would you?”
    Riley snagged the phone and answered. “Kasey Phillips’s phone. May I help you?” Riley’s eyes went wide. She mouthed ‘Cody Tuggle’ to Kasey, and Kasey nodded in response. “Yes, she’s right here. No, I think she’d want to speak to you. One moment.”
    Kasey took the phone and filled him in on the latest details.
    “Nashville? Then I can help. We can get the word out. I have promo spots on radio and television in every stop on this tour. We can post a picture. What Amber alert can’t do, maybe the Tuggle country music fan club network can.”
    “I wish.”
    “No. I’m serious. I can slip that in on every stop. What are they going to do, tell me to shut up?”
    “Maybe.”
    “It’s a risk I’ll take. Come on out to Nashville as scheduled. If your son is anywhere near there, you’ll be that much closer when they find him. I’ll jet you wherever you need to go.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. And if it’s not a good lead, the tour will be a good distraction for you.”
    He was right. “I can’t thank you enough.” Kasey hung up the phone, feeling hopeful and more confident in her plan.
    Riley raised a brow and smiled. “Is the trip back on?”
    “It is.”
     

 
    Chapter Eleven
     
    When Kasey landed in Nashville, she headed for baggage claim. The rush of being on a schedule again was a welcome diversion. As soon as she stepped off the escalator, she spotted her driver. The black-suited man was as short and stout as the capital letters that spelled out her name on the sign he held in front of him. She introduced herself.
    He nodded. “Schaffer, ma’am. I’ll be your driver while you’re in town. How many bags do you have?”
    “Four,” Kasey said, then felt the need to explain. “Four in all. One for clothes, and three full of equipment and supplies.”
    He grabbed a cart and headed to the baggage carousel just as the belt started chugging and an array of bags eased past. Cody’s road manager had sent special stickers for her luggage which made the four cases easy to spot.
    The driver grunted while lifting her equipment onto the cart. Kasey cringed.
    “Ready, ma’am?” he asked, as he lifted the final one into place.
    “Thank you,” Kasey said, then followed him to the limousine, trying to figure out how to ask for a favor.
    He opened and held the door of the stretch limo. She slid onto the fine leather of the back seat. The car shifted from the weight of her bags when he loaded them into the trunk. He rounded the limo and got in.
    “I know you’re supposed to take me to the hotel, but would you mind stopping at this address?” Kasey handed the driver a piece of paper noting the address. “I don’t know if it’s on the way.” She watched for a response.
    “Not a problem, miss.” He punched the address into the GPS, then eased into traffic.
    A few minutes later, he parallel-parked the car in front of Victory Courier Service .
    “Thanks. I’ll be just a few minutes.” Kasey opened the car door, but the driver was around to her side before she stepped out. She felt herself flush.
    He held the door. “Take your time.”
    She got out and stood there for a moment. What do I think I’m going to find out that the cops didn’t? The thought froze in her brain. While on this tour, she’d do everything she could possibly do to find Jake. If she rattled a few cages along the way, so be it.
    Neon signs indicated that the shop was open for business. Filled with determination, Kasey walked to the door. Three giant bells on a single piece of twine jingled as she entered the small shop, then stepped to the counter.
    A balding white-haired man looked up from his newspaper and peered at her over the top of his glasses. His plaid western shirt had seen better days, but its rosy orange color matched his cheeks.
    “How can I help you today?” he asked with a warm smile.
    “Are you the owner?”
    His long wiry brows seemed to dance above his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. Is there a problem?”
    “Oh, no, nothing like that. You spoke to the police earlier this week about a package.”
    His smile faded. “Yes. The one the lady