Page 2 of Rescuing Sara

“We don’t know for certain traffickers have Sara,” Leo warned, but Danni recognized the familiar doubt in his voice.

“Who else then?” she argued. “No matter that the note Mrs. M., Ed’s housekeeper, found in the mailbox was in Sara’s handwriting. No way she’d write, ‘I’m so out of here!’ willingly.”

“Since you’re her godmother, she would come to you if she had a problem,” Leo affirmed.

“Exactly,” Danni said. “What I can’t understand is why Ed doesn’t want the police involved in finding her? They have far more resources than a private investigator. He didn’t even want to go with us to hang up those flyers!”

“Real Grandfather of the Year material,” Leo snorted. “A peach of a guy.”

“I know.” Danni stirred her coffee needlessly and asked, “When Ed called you, did he say if he’s heard or seen anything at all?”

Leo shook his head. “If he has heard anything, he’s not telling us. But I’ll call him again if you like.”

“That would be great, because he’s sure not talking to me.” Danni drank the last of her coffee and put her cup aside. “So, what are we going to do next?”

“We?” Leo wiggled his eyebrows. “We?”

“I’m in this all the way,” Danni declared. “Even with getting my own threating e-mails–”

“You’ve been getting threats too?” Leo’s dark eyes nailed her to the booth’s Naugahyde seat. “What the hell, Danni. Why haven’t you told me before now? When did that start?”

Crap.Surrendering to the inevitable third degree she was about to receive, Danni braced herself. “Right after the secondarticle was published inExcelsiortwo weeks ago. A few days before Sara went missing.”

“Are these messages going to your work e-mails or at home?” Leo’s voice lowered to a menacing bass growl.

“Not at home,” Danni assured hastily as the man she’d called “uncle” all her life continued to glare at her. “To the paper and my office at the university. But anyone could easily find those.”

“And what did the messages say?” Leo bit off the words, one by one.

“‘Stop scaring the community, bitch,’” Danni recited. “And ‘Better stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, or just ‘you’ll be more than sorry if you don’t stop writing.’ After the other kidnappings and now with Sara gone, people are scared for their kids. Someone’s just letting off steam–”

“Like hell.” Leo slid out of the booth. “We’re going to go talk to Haggerty, and then with Stanley Harris about your continuing to write this series. Let’s go.”

He headed to the door and grabbed her purse, Danni rushed after him. Outside, a cold sleet whipped down from a graying sky, blocking the sun and pre-holiday shoppers crowding the sidewalk fastened their coat collars and adjusted their hats. Two doors down in front ofBella’s Boutique, a man with a standing string trio was playingJingle Bellson a recorder. “Leo–”

“I don’t want to hear it, Danni.” He stopped just past the ensemble and put his hands on her shoulders. “We’re going to keep you safe even if you have to stop writing for the time being.”

“But–”

“I mean it, Danni.” The old sorrow rose in Leo’s eyes. “You’re the daughter I never had and there will be crabgrass growing around Heather’s roses before I let anything happen to you.” Leo had married young and after his wife Heather and their infant daughter died from complications in childbirth, he’d neverlooked at another woman. His care for Heather’s roses bordered on obsession.

As was his lifelong concern for Danni’s safety. Her dad’s scrutiny of her high school boyfriends was nothing compared to Leo’s.

Danni raised her chin. “I’m not going to stop writing the articles, Leo,” she told him. “Not if it helps find Sara.” She knew her editor, Stanley Harris, would back her decision. The thought of Sara held captive, alone and terrified, was like living in her own special hell.

“You’re as stubborn as your dad,” Leo accused.

“Damn right,” Danni agreed. “But I agree we need to tell Captain Haggerty about my e-mails.”

Leo’s stare searched her face and she saw a hesitation enter his eyes. “Did your dad ever tell you about the Larsen case?” he asked.

“The what?”

“Never mind.” He took her arm, and they walked down the sidewalk. The ensemble followed, the recorder player leading, and the music flowed around them. Leo and Danni let them pass and Leo laughed. “Jingle Bellson a recorder? Who’d have thought–”

He turned to stare at her again, his eyes suddenly wide with something between amazement and disbelief. Then he collapsed at her feet.

“Leo!” Danni knelt, unzipped his jacket and began to apply CPR, grateful for the First Aid classes her father had insisted she take. Behind her, a woman was shouting, “Man Down!” into her phone while a man tried to keep the gawkers back.

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