THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

that.”
    Deputy Dan hustled through the lobby as Scott walked through with Libby Braddock. Scott transferred her into the deputy’s care and went back to impound her possessions as evidence. He called Von as he carried Libby Braddock’s one suitcase and the paper bag containing her purse to the car. “We’ve got her. But Jake’s not with her.”
    Scott heard Von’s fist hit something, probably the desk. He felt the same way.
    A bitter edge filled Von’s voice. “Damn it. How is she one step ahead of us every single time?” Von’s voice had a bitter edge.
    “I don’t know. She’s not saying anything yet. Hasn’t even admitted to knowing Jake. I’ll keep you posted.”
    “Do you want me to call Kasey?” Von asked.
    “No. I’ll call her.”
    “I’m on my way.”
    “See you in a couple hours.” Scott pulled onto the main road and dialed Kasey’s cell phone. His call went directly to voice mail. “Kasey. It’s Scott. I’ve got a lead. Call me.”
    He tossed the phone in the seat, his heart racing. I’ve got to get Jake back to Kasey.
     

 
    Chapter Thirty-Five
     
    By the time Kasey got to Grandma Emily’s, it was mid-day.
    “Knock-knock,” Kasey called as she let herself in the front door. She put her purse on the table in the foyer.
    Jeremy came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel.
    “Hey. I tried to call you earlier.” He met her halfway down the hall and gave her a hug. “I was just getting ready to take your grandmother her lunch. Open-faced turkey sandwich. Want one?”
    “Sounds great. I’m starved,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “I must’ve been on my way when you called.”
    “I called your cell, too. Went straight to voice mail.”
    “Really? That doesn’t —” Realization struck, and she nodded. “I must have forgotten to turn it back on after—Let me go do that.”
    Kasey went back to the foyer, got her phone and turned it on. The voicemail signal chimed. “Did you leave me a message?”
    “Nope. I better get this lunch finished before the old woman barks.”
    Kasey typed in her password to retrieve the message as she followed him. “It smells so good in here.”
    Jeremy stirred the turkey gravy and popped thick slices of bread in the toaster.
    “Two messages. Aren’t I popular?” She pressed the button to listen to the first one.
    Jeremy put a slice of toast on each plate. He took a knife from the magnetic cutlery strip, and began slicing the turkey, but then noticed the look on Kasey’s face. “What?”
    “The first message was from Von.” She raised her hand to her heart and swallowed hard. “They’ve tracked down the woman who has Jake.” She fumbled for the buttons on the phone to listen to the next message.
    “What?” Jeremy asked. “Damn ! ” He’d sliced his forefinger wide open. Jeremy whipped around to the sink and ran his hand under the water. “Who? A woman?”
    Kasey ran to his side. “Are you okay?” She reached for his hand and had a look. “Ouch, that’s deep. You might need a stitch.” She backed away and put her finger up as the next message played.
    “That was Scott. I’ve got to get home.”
    “The sheriff?” He wrapped a paper towel around his finger. “Wait! Do you need me to come with you?”
    Kasey ran to the door. “No. Tell Grem I’ll call later.”
    She raced to her car, and spun tires as she sped down the driveway. In her rearview mirror, she saw Jeremy, watching from the door.
    She gunned the engine and whipped around the corner. Her phone slid from the seat to the floorboard before she could catch it. She shook her bangs back and glanced to heaven.
    “Nick. This is it. I know it!”
     

 
    Chapter Thirty-Six
     
    Libby Braddock sat alone in a small, windowless interrogation room while Scott filed the response to the APB and updated the system with her arrest. He called Von to apprise him of the situation.
    “ Yes! ” Von shouted triumphantly. “Not a step ahead of us this time, was she? I’m almost there.”
    “I’m going in to question her now. I’ll see you shortly.”
    Scott left his office and stopped in the small room adjacent to the interrogation room. From here, he could see her through the one-way glass. Middle-aged, the woman was colorless. No makeup, except for the dark pencil on her eyebrows. Nothing special about her—average height, weight, and build. No light dancing in her eyes, clothes in shades of gray. Not the image of someone you’d picture loving a