Page 121 of The Chain

“Not really. My dad was an agent, my grandfather was Boston PD, so I guess it’s the family business,” Ginger says.

“Are you sure it’s OK that we dump two kids on you?” Rachel asks Marty in private when breakfast is over.

“I talked it over with Ginger. She’d love to have Kylie and her little pal down to her grandfather’s house. It’s a big old fun-packed place on the InnRiver. Kids will go nuts down there. Love it.”

“A lot of those old houses in that part of Massachusetts, on the floodplain, are dangerous. Just be careful, OK?”

“Don’t worry, the house is gorgeous—they’ve spent a lot of dough doing it up.”

“Ginger does come from money, then? Lucky you,” Rachel says.

“Yeah, it must be family money, because you don’t make that much as an FBI agent,” Marty replies.

“Unless she’s one of them corrupt cops,” Rachel jokes.

“Come on, Rach, look at her—she’s from law-and-order central casting.”

Stuart and Kylie are finally ready, and Pete and Rachel walk everyone to the car. “Look after the kids,” Rachel says.

Ginger hugs her. “Don’t worry, they’ll be safe with us,” she promises.

Yeah, family money,Rachel decides, looking at Ginger’s bag, a small but gorgeous Hermès Birkin.

Hugs and kisses all around, and the four of them are off.

Back in the house, Pete places a map of New England on the table.

“Somewhere in here,” he says.

“Now we just have to wait for Erik’s call. I’ll check that the GPS tabs we put in her shoes are working.”

She turns on her phone, and, yup, there is Kylie heading south.

They check the weather. Drizzle, maybe some snow flurries.

Could be worse.

They wait for Erik’s call.

Ten o’clock comes and goes.

Ten fifteen.

Ten thirty.

Eleven o’clock.

Something is wrong.

“What do we do?” Pete asks.

“We just wait, I guess,” Rachel replies. But something terrible has happened, she knows it.

Pete knows it too. It’s that feeling you get a minute before the alarms go off and the ordnance comes raining down.

Eleven fifteen.

Eleven thirty.

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