“What was it?” asked Hawes.

“A newer Escalade. Black with blacked-out windows. Flashy rims,” said Becker.

“Easier to spot than Jamie’s sedan,” Hawes pointed out, looking at Chris.

“They could be halfway through Washington State by now.” Chris clenched his teeth, attempting to keep his emotions in check. Every minute counted in an abduction. The more time went by, the less likely they were to find Violet.

Don’t let her vanish.

Hawes glanced briefly at Gianna’s covered face and then gave him a death stare. “We’ll find them. He’s driving a pimp-mobile. That vehicle will catch the eye of every cop it passes. They’ll remember it if they’ve seen it, and the best news is that the security camera behind the store caught an image of someone who could be the driver.”

“Could be?” asked Chris.

“The camera’s view catches just a glimpse of a bumper, but you can see a vehicle shadow cross the screen and then moments later a man walks through the frame.”

“You’ve watched it?” Gianna asked. “Does it show when they return with Jamie’s car?”

“I’ll show you what we have.” Becker opened a laptop and tapped on the keyboard. Chris and Gianna moved to look over the detective’s shoulders as Hawes stepped back. Her face gave nothing away. If Hawes was excited about this new lead, she was keeping it to herself. Or she knew that the video clip was a disappointment. He envied her control. His gut was a swirling mess of emotion and acid. Violet’s abduction was resurrecting memories he’d fought long and hard to bury.

We have to get her back.

Becker opened an attachment and a grainy black-and-white image of a parking lot filled the screen. The camera was positioned to cover the rear entrance to the store. Two small sedans and a covered dumpster area were close to the door. As Chris watched, a flash of black tire and bumper and then a long shadow crossed the upper third of the screen behind the two cars. He held his breath. Ten seconds later a man strolled across the screen, his head up. He swaggered, confidence rolling off him. Becker pressed the touch pad and froze the screen.

“Know him?” He enlarged the image, increasing the graininess.

Gianna leaned closer. “He’s huge.”

She was right. Even if there hadn’t been any cars in the image to compare the man to, Chris would have picked up on his wide chest and large upper arms through his coat. But as he passed by the cars, it became apparent that he was large everywhere.

“I don’t recognize him,” said Chris. “I think I’d remember this guy.” The thought of Violet in the large man’s hands made his heart crack. He battled against a surge of memories.

Underground. Children. Pain.

Gianna stared a little longer. “I haven’t seen him before.”

“You sure?” Becker asked.

“Yes,” she snapped, dark eyes flashing at him. “He might have my daughter. You better believe I’d tell you if I thought I knew him.”

“Is there another image when he returns?” asked Chris.

“No,” said Hawes. “The vehicle swap takes place off camera. We don’t see Jamie’s car at all, and there’s a shadow as the Escalade leaves, but it’s even smaller than before.”

“What if this guy was just a customer?” Chris asked, striving to keep his voice even.

“The manager and employees were shown this clip. None of them had seen him. Like you said, he’s huge. He’d be memorable.”

“He’s got to be pushing six foot five,” said Gianna. “And maybe two eighty.”

Becker raised a brow at her.

“I guess at the height and weight of people on my table all the time before weighing and measuring. I’m pretty accurate.”

“Well, at least we have a possible description of the driver to add to the vehicle. Everyone will be looking for him.”

“They fucking better,” Chris muttered. He was ready to burst out of his skin. He knew the statistics. Every hour Violet was gone, her chances of survival dropped. He flopped back into his chair next to Gianna, exhausted from the deluge of flashbacks. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

This isn’t about me.

He slid an arm around her shoulders and leaned his head against hers. She shuddered and relaxed into him. He inhaled her stillness, knowing it was odd that for once she was the one who was calm while he was ready to climb the walls. “Calm” wasn’t the right word. He suspected she was simply too drained to vocalize.

She needed someone to lead.

He kissed her forehead and straightened up, pulling the closest notebook of Richard’s in front of him. “Okay, Richard. Give us a clue about that huge beast who took Violet.” He flipped it open and started to read. Next to him Gianna took a deep breath and opened another.

Somewhere in these notebooks was an answer.

The jumbled notes made Gianna want to scream. Her father had been focused on minutiae from everyday life. The detail part of his brain that had once made him a brilliant developer had taken over his life; unable to find focus, it had focused on everything. Had he vocalized the constant thoughts? Had he used the notebooks as therapy so he could function in the world? What kind of woman had been able to live with her father, whose brain constantly vibrated and expanded with useless details?

I hope she loved him. And that he was happy.

Her own brain constantly accelerated in a million directions. She couldn’t stop thinking about Violet. Tension and anxiety sped along her nerves, making her skin feel like it’d been stretched rigidly over her bones.