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  With a sharp glare at him, Gordon moved into the other room, growling furiously, snapping into the phone.

  “I know, baby. But your best bet for getting her back sooner is to let Gordon do his job. He knows money is no object, that she’s the top priority.”

  Christ, who would take a three-year-old little girl, and who the fuck thought a teacher had the wherewithal to pay out a large sum of cash as ransom?

  Gordon came back in, lips tight. “They want to do the drop at oh-five-hundred hours.”

  Eric’s eyes went wide and Brock could hear the man’s mind working that out. “So long? That’s ten hours.”

  “Why?” Brock knew how frustrating this had to be for Eric. And that little girl had to be terrified.

  “They won’t talk. I have my guys trying to find a trace on the cell, but it’s a long shot. They want to meet at a field out near Marlin’s Cove. Do you know it?” Gordon looked at Eric, but handed Brock the phone, careful not to show the screen to Eric.

  Eric nodded. “The kids from school hold raves there. It’s just a big, open space.”

  The phone had a picture of a crying dark-haired little girl wearing a pink “I love Daddy” T-shirt.

  “Fuck me raw.” Brock muttered the words under his breath. That was…. Yeah. Right. He needed to find Eric some Valium.

  He pocketed Eric’s cell, grabbed his iPhone, and called his physician’s private line while Gordon talked to Eric, whose voice was getting louder and more hysterical. Brock was promised Valium within half an hour, and he locked his phone and went over to grab Eric’s arm. “You have to calm down, Eric. I’d hate to have to slap the hysteria out of you,” he added, trying to lighten Eric’s mood a little.

  “What do they want? Why won’t they do it tonight? I don’t fucking understand!”

  “I don’t know. I think they’re trying to mess with you.”

  Gordon nodded. “Okay, here’s the sit-rep. Mr. Wilson says the pickup point is the place where kids from the school hold raves. The way the note was written, where it was left—this all points at it being a student, sir. You need to really think about who might be pissed off at you. For whatever reason.”

  “I. Should I go to the police, then? I mean, if it’s a student, they’ll do it again.” Eric was looking green.

  Gordon didn’t think about that question for very long at all. “I think you should call the cops, but you tell them that I’m handling the exchange. They’re going to ask you the same questions, though, man, so you need to focus—can you think of anyone who might have a grudge against you for any reason?”

  “I mean, I’m a teacher. There are kids who hate my class, troublemakers.” Eric was beginning to hyperventilate.

  Brock held one hand up, backing Gordon off. “Okay, baby. Take some deep breaths and tell Gordon who the troublemakers are—their names, what they did, why they don’t like you.”

  “I… I’ll try. I can’t…. Oh, God. This is my fault.”

  “Stop that, Eric. Come on, now.” Where the hell was that delivery man with the Valium?

  “I… I’ll make a list. Are you going to call the police?”

  Gordon nodded. “I have some friends, people who can keep it quiet. Hold it together for her, huh?”

  “He will. You will, won’t you, Eric.” Brock didn’t make it a question. The doorbell rang again, just in the nick of time too. “That’ll be the pharmacy delivery.”

  “Pharmacy?” Eric looked completely confused.

  “Come to the kitchen table, man. Let’s make a list and call my friend Max.” Gordon took Eric’s elbow, led him to the kitchen.

  Brock went to the door and signed for the pills. It seemed all he was doing was signing for things.

  There was a little dented hatchback outside, though, one with a pale blonde girl in it, staring at the house from across the street, talking furiously into a cell phone. As soon as he stepped outside and met the girl’s eyes, she slapped the phone shut and started rolling up her window, even as the Dodge Omni drove away. The bumper sticker on the back said, “Valley Hills Dance Squad Loves Basketball.” He stared at the license plate, memorizing it. Then he hightailed it back inside.

  “Gordon. XTL352. Silver Dodge Omni. There was a blonde in it, watching the place. Looked like she was sharing what she was seeing, too.”

  “Excellent work, Boss.” Gordon stood, hands smoothing the crisp white button-down. It struck him, suddenly, how odd they both looked in this homey house—him in his Versace, and Gordon looking like… well, exactly what he was, high-paid security. “I’m going to make some phone calls. You’ll, uh, sit with him?”

  “I will.” Brock shrugged his jacket off and hung it in the hall closet. The small closet was filled with little coats, mittens, shopping bags, a sled. His jacket looked dark and huge in the space.

  He shut the closet door. It didn’t matter, did it? He was just here to help. It took three big steps to make it back to the kitchen, and he smiled and grabbed Eric’s shoulder, squeezing. “I’ve got something to help calm you down.”

  “What? I don’t want any more booze. It’s making my head hurt.”

  “No, this is Valium. It’ll help, I swear.” He opened the pill bottle and shook out one of the little triangular pills.

  “Are you sure? The police won’t be mad? What if I need to drive somewhere?”

  “I will drive you anywhere you need to go. And who the fuck cares if the police are mad—these assholes took Josie from you.” He cut the pill in half with the kitchen knife. If that didn’t fix Eric’s nerves, Brock would give him the other half.

  “They did. He… is she okay? Did Gordon tell you?” It looked like Eric was about to shake apart.

  He went to the cabinet to grab a glass with some cartoon characters on it, and then he poured Eric a glass of water. “Okay, open up.” He put the half pill on Eric’s tongue and handed him the water.

  Eric swallowed, choking a little as he drank. Brock rubbed Eric’s back and encouraged him to drink the whole glass, from the tip of Bugs Bunny’s ears to the huge, white-toed feet where Elmer Fudd was crouching.

  “Come on, baby. Breathe.”

  “I’m trying, love. I swear. I am.” God, those eyes were so fucking beautiful.

  “I know. The Valium will kick in soon, I promise.”

  “I’m so fucking scared.” Eric reached out for him, took his hand, fingers tracing his knuckles.

  Brock squeezed Eric’s hand and then pulled him in close to hold him tight. “It’s going to be okay, Eric. We have a clue now. Gordon’s going to get her back.”

  Eric settled against him, leaned hard. “I’ll owe you forever, Brock. I swear. You’re my hero.”

  “I’ll be your hero anytime you need me, baby.” He always would be.

  Eric nodded. “I know. I didn’t deserve to call, after all the times I wanted to and didn’t.”

  “Yeah, well, that little girl means all bets are off. No way I could say no.”

  Eric had wanted to call him? He wasn’t sure if he believed that or not—Eric was the one who had left. Brock was the same person. Older, maybe, but not a whole lot had changed. He was still a power businessman, he worked hard, he played hard—not as often as he used to—and he lived hard.

  “I’m glad.”

  “So you wanted to call me?” He figured it would make for a good diversion.

  “Uh-huh. All the time. Every time something went right, every time something went wrong. I knew you were too busy, though.”

  “You were the one who broke it off,” he reminded Eric gently.

  “I know. I…. How could I compete with your life, Brock? How could anyone? You’re like… like a superhero or a movie star, my beautiful Italian stud—tall, dark, and handsome. Practically fucking perfect in every way. There wasn’t a place left for Joe Normal.”

  “I’m not a superhero. And I didn’t want you to go.” He pulled Eric closer. “I never wanted you to go. It was like a punch to the gut.”

  �
�I know. You just… your whole life is bigger than me, and I wanted to be a dad.”

  “My life is bigger than you.” Huh. He’d thought there was a place for Eric in his life. He still did.

  Eric nodded. “I was the geeky little guy who everyone dreaded coming to the parties and the soirées.”

  “But I wanted you there.” Okay, that sounded pretty selfish. “I guess it was uncomfortable for you.”

  “It was bad for business and you know it. Eventually you would have found one of those pretty people to take in my place.”

  “I go alone,” he growled. He never had a plus one.

  Eric’s cheeks heated. “I’d say that I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

  “I don’t begrudge you your family, baby. You knew what you wanted and you went out and got it—those are my tactics.”

  “Yeah, and she’s… well, she’s my whole life, now.”

  “Gordon’s going to get her back for you.” He stroked Eric’s back.

  “I hope so.” Eric pulled away—one of the shirt buttons had left a round mark on Eric’s cheek—and rested his face on his arms, sighing softly. “I miss her, man.”

  “I’d like to meet her. Maybe we could, um….” He searched his brain for something one did with a three-year-old girl. “Go on a picnic?”

  “Oh, she’d love that. Josie loves being outside. She likes to pretend to golf, and she has a tiny little tricycle.”

  “I should take you both golfing, then.”

  “I’d love that.” Eric gave him a soft, wistful look. “You’re looking good, Brock. You know that, right? I love the silver that’s coming in, right there. It’s… fascinating.” Like he couldn’t help himself, Eric reached up and brushed through his hair, tugging a bit.

  Brock was feeling rather wistful himself. “I imagine I look pretty much the same, aside from the crow’s-feet.”

  “You look… sleek. I look messy.”

  “You look like a man worried about his kid.” He kissed the top of Eric’s head. “I promise not to make any judgments just now.”

  “Okay.”

  There was a commotion at the front door. “You let me in, you beast! Eric! Eric, I called the day care. Is it true?”

  Eric winced, and so did he.

  Ellora. Eric’s twin sister.

  Great.

  He raised an eyebrow and Eric winced again but nodded.

  “Let her in,” he called to Gordon before going to head her off at the pass, keep some distance between her and Eric. She was, at best, an emotional harpy. At worst, she was a manipulative bitch, and Brock wouldn’t be surprised at all to discover that she’d been encouraging Eric to leave him, all those years ago.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” She looked just like a broader, more painted, more hysterical Eric. It was still creepy.

  He crossed his arms. “I’m here for Eric.”

  “Ellora. Shut up.” Eric stared at her. “Please.”

  “He needs support right now, Ellora. Nothing else.” He wasn’t interested in what she thought about his being here, or anything, really.

  “Is she really gone? Do they know who took her?”

  Brock answered the questions. “Yes and no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Eric blinked at her. “Shut up. Just….”

  Brock growled. Clearly Eric wasn’t happy to have her here. “If you’re not here to help, get lost, Ellora.”

  “Fuck you. Oh, God, Ricky. What happened?” She pushed into the kitchen and into Eric’s lap, putting her forehead to his.

  “I walked over to pick her up, Ellora, just like always. I went and she was gone. There was a note on my car.”

  “I just got him calmed down, Ellora. Don’t you get him all worked up again.” God, she drove him nuts, always had.

  “Is he stoned? He looks stoned.”

  “He’s had a little Valium. Are you going to go now?” He sure as hell hoped so.

  “No! I’m here to help. Have you called Mom? Dad and Jenny? How about Cousin Alan and Uncle Lawrence?”

  Oh, God.

  No.

  Not the whole clan.

  “Ellora, stop right there. Gordon has everything under control, and Josie is going to be home before you know it. The last thing Eric needs is a ton of people going hysterical on him.”

  Eric looked at him, nodded, eyes huge. His Eric was the quiet one of that bunch, the gentle one.

  “He needs his family, damn it. You’re just a controlling fuck; you always have been, and—”

  Brock fixed Ellora with a stare. “If I pay you, will you go away?”

  “I will not! Did you hear that, Ricky?”

  He thought that Eric almost smiled. “El. I love you. Please. We’re trying to deal. Please… can you go get groceries? Supplies?”

  “Yeah, that’s a great idea. And El—don’t be telling anyone until we have Josie back. You never know who might be listening.” He just wanted her gone; she was stressing Eric out.

  “Oh. Okay, sure. Are you sure you don’t want the family here? For support?”

  “This is our secret, Ellora. Please.” Eric’s breath hitched.

  “The less people who know at the moment, the better.” Brock pulled out his wallet and handed her a couple hundred dollars. “Restock his pantry for him—get all Josie’s favorites.”

  “Okay. Okay, sure. I’ll be back, Ricky.”

  He watched her go and then turned to Eric. “Shit, I haven’t missed her.”

  “No? She’s got a good heart; she’s just… El.”

  “I still can’t believe you both came from the same egg.”

  “Two eggs. Not identical.”

  “Oh, that explains everything.”

  Eric chuckled, nodded at him. “I tell myself that. A lot.”

  Brock stared for a moment; he’d always loved Eric’s smile. Their eyes met. Eric was exhausted and worried and still so fucking hot. Why had they broken up again? Oh, right. Eric’s insistence on the ordinary life. Of course, it seemed Eric’s ordinary life wasn’t going exactly according to plan at the moment. Brock reached out and took Eric’s hand. He held on, offering what support he could.

  “Thank you for taking my call.” Eric leaned toward him. “My hero.”

  “Does that make you my sidekick?” He let Eric lean on him.

  “Yep. Supersuit and his sidekick, Khaki Boy.”

  That startled a laugh out of him, and he hugged Eric tightly. Eric grabbed him, surprising him as Eric held on and cried. Brock patted Eric’s back, awkwardly at first and then with more ease. He felt it as Eric let go, crying himself out and then resting, right there in his arms.

  He tried not to think about how good it felt, how right, about how much he’d missed this. Eric’s little girl was missing; that was all this was about.

  Gordon came in, eyes serious. “I have the police and the feds coming. They’re sending people to the day care, too. Things are going to get a little wild.”

  Brock squeezed Eric, keeping him where he was. “Did the license plate pan out?”

  “I’m waiting to hear from the guys.”

  “Tell me you’re bringing her home soon, Gordon. We need to hear that.” Eric needed to hear it.

  “I’m going to get her home to her father, Boss. I swear on my balls.”

  “You hear that, Eric? It’s as good as done.”

  Eric nodded. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll do it.”

  “You two just sit tight and leave the dealing to me. There’ll be a lot of people through here asking the same questions. Just keep your cool, okay?”

  Brock nodded at Gordon’s words and squeezed Eric tight.

  “I just want her home, snug in her bed.”

  “That’s going to happen, man.” The doorbell rang again and Gordon gave them a nod. “Sit tight. I’ll get it.”

  “I. Okay. Okay.” Eric squeezed his fingers tightly.

  Brock moved to stand behind Eric’s chair, hands on Eric’s shoulders, and stayed th
ere as one law enforcement person after another came into the kitchen and asked Eric the same questions over and over again.

  It was grueling and exhausting, and he wasn’t even the one in the hot seat.

  When the questions from a rat-faced fed started to get personal and nasty, Eric flinched. “Why are you asking me these things? No, I don’t drive two blocks to pick Josie up. She loves the walk!”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we have to ask these questions. The parents are always the first suspects in cases like these.”

  Brock thought this particular FBI agent needed a lesson in diplomacy.

  “He didn’t do anything to Josie, and you’d be better served looking for who really did take her instead of upsetting him.” He, on the other hand, didn’t have to be diplomatic.

  “Do you know a girl named Chrissie Lynk?” Gordon looked grim.

  Brock squeezed Eric’s shoulders, not liking the look on Gordon’s face at all. He waited for Eric’s answer, for Gordon to explain.

  “Chrissie? Sure. She’s in my third-period class. Why?”

  “She was driving the car Brock saw, man, and she works part-time at that day care.”

  “Are the cops going to pick her up? She’s got to have Josie, right? Or at least know who does?”

  “The cops are at her house; she never came home today.”

  Eric stood up. “I’ll go find her.”

  “What?” Brock and Gordon said it at the same time.

  “I’ll go find her. I’ve been teaching those kids for seven years. I know them. I know….” Eric swayed, pale as milk.

  Brock grabbed hold of him. “If you know where they’d take her, tell Gordon. He’ll handle this.” He didn’t want Eric going anywhere.

  “I don’t—they go to the park, to the railroad tracks. To…. Why? Why the fuck would they take my baby?”

  “Because people suck.”

  “I’m going to find her.” Right, because after a downer and two shots, Eric was so stable.

  “No, baby. Let Gordon deal with this.”

  “Actually, I could use your help, Eric. You know these places. Brock, you can drive, Eric can navigate, and I’ll deal with little asshole teenagers who think they’re having a laugh.” Gordon smiled and it wasn’t a nice smile.

  “No.” Officer… Someone-or-other slammed one hand on the table. “You three are going to sit tight and let the professionals deal with this.”