He’d originally hated Lucas with a passion, ever since he’d first heard Jake excitedly talk about the man. Lucas was everything Mason wasn’t. He’d coached every boy sport in existence, and Mason had never heard a foul word from the man’s mouth. Lucas always had a big smile. Until today. Mason had fought the urge to wipe the smile off Lucas’s face the first few times he’d met him, believing the man was gloating. But it’d turned out he was one of those rare always-happy guys. Lucas wasn’t a faker. It’d taken years for Mason to accept that the man was the real thing.

He couldn’t have asked for a better man to help raise his son.

Didn’t mean they had to be best friends.

Guilt swept through him again as he remembered all the resentment he’d held against the man. Part of Mason had been jealous that he hadn’t created the type of picket-fence family with Robin that she had with Lucas. Now he didn’t want to be in this man’s shoes for anything.

“Where’s Jake?” Mason asked. His son hadn’t made an appearance.

“In his room. He was down here for a while but said he couldn’t handle seeing his mom fall apart. I don’t blame him,” Lucas said with a glance at his wife. She and Lilian were still clutching hands but paying close attention to the man speaking quietly with them.

A dizzying need to see his son swamped Mason. “I’ll be right back.”

He left Lucas behind as he headed for the stairs.

2

5 HOURS MISSING

“Afternoon, Ava.”

Special Agent Ava McLane nodded at Assistant Special Agent in Charge Ben Duncan as she stepped into the Fairbankses’ crowded dining room. “How’s it going, Ben?” The number of bodies in the room was claustrophobic. Everyone talked in low voices as they moved around, speaking on cell phones or in private conversations. Determination and focus filled the air.

His brown eyes met hers, and he gave a small smile. “We’re still in the process of organizing everyone. We’ll find her.”

Good man. Staying positive. It was her personal number-one rule when searching for kids. She blew out a breath and surveyed the room, taking stock of the players. She was one of two Crimes Against Children coordinators at the Portland FBI office, and she’d been the special agent to take the call about Henley from Clackamas County this morning.

Ava’s gut had twisted as she’d listened to the county sheriff. She’d known they needed to act fast. She thanked her stars that Clackamas County hadn’t dithered about starting an investigation. They’d moved rapidly to comb the school and question neighbors.

The Clackamas County Sheriff’s Office had recommended that Henley’s elementary school move all the children to the gym for a “fun day” while they did a sweep of the school and the surrounding area. Henley Fairbanks was nowhere to be seen. They weren’t certain that she’d even made it to the school bus. Mom and stepmom hadn’t heard from Henley, and most of her close friends’ parents had been contacted to see if the girl had appeared at one of their homes. Eleven-year-olds didn’t simply disappear. They hid, wandered off, or were abducted. Henley’s teachers and parents were convinced the girl didn’t qualify for the first two categories, and the sheriff’s search was rapidly proving them right.

The probability of abduction was growing by the hour.

With these facts in hand, it’d been Ava’s decision to request that headquarters activate the CARD team. They’d agreed with her assessment and put the wheels in motion. Six special agents with unique skills to solve child abductions were on their way to Portland from various FBI offices in the western half of the US.

To the FBI, there was no such thing as over-responding when a child vanished. Whether the child had wandered off or been abducted, they didn’t wait to act. Waiting cost lives. The FBI reacted as if the worst-case scenario had happened. Ninety percent of the Portland office’s special agents were clearing their schedules for the next forty-eight hours to have more feet on the ground for the search. The lines between the official divisions in the office were gone; today, every agent belonged to VCMO, Violent Crimes and Major Offenders. It didn’t matter if an agent was assigned to terrorism, white-collar crime, cybercrime, or art theft. Today everyone was looking for a child.

There’d be tons of grunt work. Interviews of every resident in the neighborhood and each adult at the school. Interviews of children. Leads from citizens to follow. Miles of square footage to search. Surveillance tapes to review. And that was just the beginning.

Ben tipped the eight-by-ten photo in his hand so that Ava could see it. Brown-eyed, blond-haired Henley Fairbanks smiled at her from a school photo. She was missing an upper front tooth. Ava’s heart contracted.

“Any fights with her parents or bad times at school to make her hide or run away?” Ava questioned, even though she knew it’d already been asked a dozen times.

Ben shook his head. “Nothing has indicated that she’s a runner.”

“Where do you want me?” Ava asked Ben.

He frowned as he studied her for a second. “Stay close. I’m going to have you talk to the mothers in a moment. Sanford has been speaking with both of them, but their body language is screaming that they don’t like him.”

Smart women. Sanford was a great agent, but he couldn’t establish a rapport with a woman to save his ass. What he believed he projected as kindness came across as condescension. Ava was surprised Ben had let him talk to the women at all.